I watched you live a life full of happiness.
Singing karaoke with the family in the living room,
Laughing as you tell stories of your life,
Bringing bibingka to every family party,
Embracing your grandchildren with love,
Giving my mother manicures,
Being loved by anyone you had come across.

I watched you live a life in pain.
Being diagnosed with cervical cancer,
Going through the straining effects of radiation,
Losing your body to the disease,
Suffering as the cancer spread to your lungs,
Struggling to stay awake in fear of not waking up,
Battling to conquer the disgusting sickness,
Laying in bed covered in tubes,
Fighting until you could not fight anymore.

I watched you live your life until the end.
Walking into hospital room,
Seeing your lifeless body,
Crying to know that you were gone,
Clinging to my brother and sister,
Feeling an emptiness that could not be filled,
Weeping with my grandmother over your casket,
Saying my final goodbye.

Now you watch over me.
And I cannot wait until I can live with you again.

Under a new night sky,
Wondering if my past is a life that I didn't let die,
Or a reason to remind me how to feel alive,
Is it the gear that lets me drive,
Or is it a parking brake,
A new night sky,
With the same twinkle,
A new cup and different wrinkles,
Still the goofy smile,
And the anticlimactic trial,
That the jury is still oot,
Long days are long days,
And what they say are still what they says,
The night sky hasn't changed,
And the writing still feels a little deranged,
It's still the past stars,
And the flashing lights of karaoke bars,
Just more cowboy hats,
I'm still adjusting to my same night sky,
And the past is a story that is a disastrously beautiful lie,
That I didn't let die,
Because my future depends on it

My mother had a thing about locking me in the bathroom. She’d force an audience out of me to her bearing all to pat benatar through her tears. I buried my ears so deep into that karaoke machine because I swore I could hear her secrets. My ears would bleed so I could feel her pain. As if that could help any. It would keep her sane. In those years I learned it’s not ladylike to look someone in the eyes while they cry.

My mother never told me about emo boys. The kinds that would draw me in by bearing all in screams and strumming strings. I buried my ears so deep into the voices of these, telling secrets I’d again make my ears bleed to feel his pain. As if that could help any. I’d still try. It was a good thing I learned  it wasn’t ladylike to look someone in the eyes while you cry.

c.1999/5000 1 air, and a glittering steel guitar,          guitar but not a letter
through the private window of the pictures appearing early on the walls
we are enjoyable,    the heat that can not see the dream as a child is worth changing the glass to the rock and Russia's councils,
like the brain of people who love the tricks of paper,
keep all the Jews in the garden of Christ,
the ****** field recently said at the French companies stockholder's meeting,
Superior athletes are as a huge sandwich, says Social society
and the coordinator; to be rich, the fighters for their blind guides have died, Bob is well-known in the field of knowledge;
his finger of the ancient hundredth century leaders of the wind
and the evening that sat in his memory;
1 Revolution a dance, dance with John
make color colors colorful clouds of radio;
To the mountains, 'to eat your body's fleshly body
with a child hiding a baby robot to turn them into pain';
In the Christian books, newspapers and in the air
on the ninth day, and Maria was wise in the morning,
at least; owned by fighters, and dressed in white *******;
policemen,         playing the second time,
We played a *******, waiting for Betty
to hear the Lord's words, cut off the sweet tongue
of Eve as an angelic tree on the waters
of the Einstein-Lucius wall, to the Goshen,
Venenatis Museum of Loyola, his other feet
on the corner of a righteous man buried
in the grave of Maecenas, who had been dropped
down to heaven; upon the head, and fat, nothing,
nothing; and in the garden of the founder
to understand the beach, and make it desolate,
and the restricted kingdom of their decision
states in color all the lines of the smoke of the city's smoke
in the wilderness, and is called according to the number
of prostitutes in public, the light in the middle,
warmly hot, such as the load of loafy artists
lost and standing in the woods of The supplier,
where the incredible Asian flag with the pitch problem
is not love, and I do not listen to their music;
Until the day you speak Online when the opposite screen is displayed. || |
Of the wind, 1 Leave a Kiss to come to ***** her sweet gay body
not of this writing, the windows of the secret of being is filled with the lot
of the image of the morning, children of the Wall, we are Alchemists,
the heat of the invisible things of his dreams
changes a kid to pieces,       to play inwardly,
'mirror of the rock', the Russian guy feels the passage of a pit,
he wanted the brain of the guys on the friendship
with the cat is the school of his lips,
as wet with the whole of the Jews as the garden of the Christ,
a ****** field wearing the arms of interest,
lately talking ground French Mountain Roast;
Pinky deserves to get high smoking sand for free,
bad and ugly Society says paint, prophet,
get rich; hire strippers with their blind dog sense,
Bob died in the science park perfectly unknown;
asking that his fingers' century of language's
center of knowledge of Angels, keep remembering
sitting modern dance floors and clubs; 1 move that
brought revolution dance, dancing with John
in this *****'s silver colored shades of radio;
Pregnant eating meat is no friend of the child
to turn the table in bed watching robot Hills plastic guns;
Christian writings in newspapers, at noon in Heaven,
Mary eyes the mothers' genius in the morning,
certainly; by eating strippers the cops were written
into the machine of *******, she was playing
the second ******* and waiting for Bettie
to hear the happy; cut the lights, her tongue produces angels
and tree smells, Eve waves her flanks under Einstein's Ivan walls,
her Loyola teething Football Muses begin to picture
sterilized legs' natural Orisha in a corner of the burial tomb,
what has been given has fallen to Maecenas his sleep,
upon his head of fat they lay, of vanity, they the garden
of developers understand the shore, and will take hold of her
to **** her **** and madly alter their clothing reading
of the whole singing songs of the glory of the smoke
of the wilderness of the town, almost all of you are called,
both digits of the ******* in the public light, yellow,
hot water taking her away in the middle
of it to go off and live on plunder;
the image to take hold of the flame
of the eyes of a messenger to become
acquainted with the course of the UFO's,
the price of a pulsing floral teenager's
cold beginning to talk about ***
to the corporation's newcomer the Devil,
simply looking bright;
****'s income ruins his already sweaty socks
as he stands at the bar drinking
with Providence where the Asian died
without new motion to move a song lover
to leave without a state they met
singing Karaoke together when they
would not listen to each other;
She lived to die enough and as they talked |
the Goddess Online opposite their screens appeared. |

1 air polished on the guitar,
the guitar but not the letters
through the private window,
the pictures shown in the morning
on the walls are enjoyable
and the summer does not seem to be a dream
that a child is converted to through the glass
of rock and Russia planted within the brain,
and those who love it deceitfully wrapped up in paper,
so all the Jews in the garden of Christ,
the ****** farmer recently said French companies
had an elevator at a huge tasting,
says Social Society and the coordinator
may be rich blind guides, who have died
at a crash, they and Bob well known
in the science field; wind in the evening,
a session of the old's of old age,
memory of yourself to be in your
hundreds; 1 Dance dance, dance,
color, color, color, color, and color on the radio;
At the top, it becomes part of the children's interlocking robot's body
that will relieve their pain; In the Christian books,
newspapers and in the air, on the ninth day of the sea
and the morning of the wise, at least, will have its enemies,
dressed for a rally, the police, playing the second playing
or impending waiting for Marcus
to hear the words cut off the sweet tongue
of Einstein's Eve an angel companion of a piece of wood,
L. to the Goshen sterilized the Museum of Loyola,
the others' feet buried in a tomb
just around the corner from Maecenas',
which that could have been sent
to the heavens; upon the fat thing;
in the garden, the founder of the people
understands the heights, and to protect it,
and for between the kingdoms
of the design of the state of the colors
of all the borders of the smoke of the city,
and the smoke of the wilderness, which is said,
according to the number of prostitutes
in the republic, the light of the middle
is the very hottest, such as the loafy artificers
to lose weight, the forests where a lot stands in the yard,
where are the incredible things who are Asian,
posters, and those who do not want to listen to music
are online today to tell you it has been
displayed on the opposite screen. ||| ||      ||||       |
|
1 air and a polished gita, guitar but not letters
through the private window, the pictures appearing
in the morning on the wall in the summer
and summer did not see the way this young man
was converted through a glass of rock and Russia
decided as a brain, and he loved by her tricks,
so all Jews in the garden of Christ, the ****** girl
soon said that the French councils seemed to be the largest,
said the Social Society and the leader could be rich,
blind guides, who had died in a casual accident, Bob
was well-known in the field of knowledge;
the wind in the evening, times of old age,
memory of itself to be a hundred; 1 Dance,
dance, color, color, color, color, and color
on the radio; At the top, it becomes a part
of the robotic mind of children who will experience their pain;
In Christian literature, newspapers and in the air,
on the ninth day of the morning and the morning of the wise,
at least, will have his enemies, dressed as a council,
policemen, playing at a second accident or a stop;
waiting for Marcus to hear the words in Einstein's native language
and the design of an angelic shape, L. to Ga-in, the Loyola city,
other graves buried in a tomb by the Maecenas corners,
which can be transmitted to the sky upon, oh,
one united nation; in the garden, the founder of the people
to understand the high places, and to defend it,
and for the governments of the shape of the state
the colors of all the smoke of the smoke in the smoke of the wilderness, which is said, such as number of prostitution in the city,
the light of the middle-class, such as skilled workers to lose weight,
forests where many have stayed in the yard,
where Asian wonders, posters, and people
who do not want to hear music on the internet today
tell you it has been displayed when the screen is opposite. ||||
| || |      
Annie polished up on her study of guitar,
but it is not in writing, deprived of a window
in the image of the remains of the wall,
summer, autumn, and they can see just
what a young man had recently amended
by the mirror out of the rock, in Russia
it was decided with the culture and loved,
through a mistake, out of all the Jews
which were in the garden of 1, Mary, the
dancer, the color, of color, of color, of color,
of the color of the letter, speaking of the rays
in the many regions of the privatization
of to do them wrong, however, you will not,
or still feel the pain of the air, of the
newspapers from the 9 in the morning,
in the morning; in the morning, by which
time the Council of the mind is upon
rats, Annie, the garment, or the enemy. | 1 |

We're told to look here ---------------> .
Meanwhile {this} is happening
& the media says (insert 'official' story here)
& repeats repeats repeats
a thousand times
until we're all singing
karaoke

                   *

or you decide to wake up.

loud music, karaoke,
barbecue on the balcony,
smirnoffs and local beers,

zoom in on me holding
the mic, trying to have
a good time.

watch as everyone
loses themselves or falls
apart, some into laughter,

others into tears. it's time
to leave and i'm wondering
why do boys only call me

pretty when they're drunk?
they wrap their arms around
me and whisper in my ear,

tell me i'm special when
i've never felt less. it's hard
to be believable with alcohol

on your breath. so i just fall
into bed, more alone than
exhausted.

Here come
pairs   of   legs
   riddled with cellulite
   accents
     stuff the air
Neuwcassul
   Burmingum
stores     reek
of cheap   tat
   bargain   last-few-quid   items
Irish music
no-one gives a     jig     about
    Mr. Whippy's
for sale every seven/six
   make that     five     cafés
women   packed
   like bubblewrap
     into denim shorts
     middle-aged men
plagued with     tattoos
   Irn Bru tans

back at the chalet
     kids thwack
   plastic     *****
with plastic racquets
   next-door neighbours
   puff on their nineteenth
*** before midday
come   night
karaoke floods towards us
   like a murky tsunami
don't stop believin'
     hold   on   to   that   feelin'

but the   girl
in the museum
   had a ponytail
   another one
dipped in gold
   like a fancy chess piece
and I walk   around
in a   Norwich   shirt
lick sea-breeze
     and know
   this isn't
home

Nights like this I just want to be in your embrace, our skin colliding with each other, the smooth friction between our hands and with you as my lullaby. Nights like this I just want to go out with an aimless destination with you. Driving through the dark alleys, with our favourite song on repeat. With you and only you. Nights like this I just want to hear you ranting about life and you endlessly flirting with me. Nights like this I just want you.
Nights like this I just want you to hurt me. Fighting over things simple. Nights like this I just wanna cry over you and mourn over the ‘old’ you. Nights like this I just want to miss you and hate you over and over again. Nights like this I just want to write about you and with all the memories with you, I just want to hold them tight. Nights like this, I just want to find you.
Nights like this I just want to hang out with my friends, talking about everyone and everything. Laughing about every joke that would pop up among us. Nights like this I just want to enjoy my youth with my friends. Barefoot adventures and late night karaoke. Nights like I just want to find my friends.
Nights like this I just want to reminisce about me. Reminisce about all the things I’ve. Those that I regret and those that I’d do over and over again. Nights like this, this feeling, this bloom in my heart. I don’t want it to end.

I miss having you around to say the little things you would say to me, to make it ok. Sweet little lies, perhaps. Perhaps not.

I miss your eyes, with that twinkle inside, with the exclamation points after them, with those crinkles on the edges, especially when you are all vulnerable and cuddly. Funny the weird details that come back up in your memories.

I miss interrupting and correcting you, in the rudest way possible.

I miss you correcting me and then I will pout and give you the saddest eyes and make you laugh at my childishness.

I miss how you looked and pointed at me 2 inches from my face on the bed, and declared, “i LIKE you”.

I miss watching Californication with you, propped up on pillows.

I miss eating junk food and beer while we watch cool youtube videos in the evenings or the mornings.

Or cracking up to a comedy skit.

Sitting with wine at 4am wolfing down tortilla chips, turning over existential ideas in our minds.

I miss you soaping my body in the shower and I miss soaping yours and I miss you making love to me everywhere we did.

On the counter In the closet Against the door On the couch In the shower On the toilet seat down On a mountain downhill Against trees in the forest In your childhood bedroom On the beach In a tent On a log bridge over a brook In the center of a woods clearing

I wanted you to Take me

everywhere.

I miss the forced cigarettes in the cold winter air, or the muggy summer

I miss our trips through this grubby city, trudging through autumn leaves and stopping in clothing stores and markets and city squares, staring at musicians and artists with admiration and jealousy, and bakeries to get your pastry fix and buying hats,pretending we’d last til the winter.

I miss our secret getaways and gossip sessions.

I miss painting and bleeding and dancing and crying and smoking and drinking and singing karaoke and slobbering and running and stopping and stalling and slumping and getting lost.

I miss fantasizing of alternative realities and cities undiscovered. I miss your wisdom-filled advise given to me, and my childlike prudity you brought out of me.

I miss shoving you playfully and skipping down a road together. I miss the smell of Doves men’s soap on your skin and the bristle of your chest hair- the just the right amount of – against mine, smooth.

It was a spectacular Love affair, one for the records for sure. How i miss playing with you>>> How i wish we can play All the time, and keep it quiet so that Reality cant hear us, wild and reckeless, and I’ll grow up on the side of all of it, and you too, if you can, But all the while leaving me behind with you in our eternal playroom, making love in all the ways we did…

One little Two little Three little Indians….

Posing squirrels
Legs crossed
Hands on hips
Chins held high
And a smile to drive
Your mind like
A merry-go-round!

Talking trees
Strong limbs
Thin and thick
******* for more space
Their high and low
Pitched voices
Sending thunders through
The ear-holes  
Of birds
Zigzagging
For escape
Through the branches

Dancing water
Taking form of the
Most beautiful treasures
The eye can behold
Then suddenly transforming
To a most frightening sight!
In one moment
A nymph strumming the
Horse gut strings
Of an oak guitar
An instant later
A giant serpent
All slim and
Venomous goo
With the head of
The death crone
The legs of a
Rooster
It's iguana tongue
Searching for
Your face!

You look at your own
Reflection in the mirror
You try to speak to
Yourself
Only you have
No mouth
No ears
No nose
No taste or voice
No ability to listen
No smell
But what's this!?
You ask...
My reflection has all these things!
And with the
Evil jest of a
Jealous twin
Your mirror self
Mocks you!
Poking out her tongue
Dancing to music
You can't hear
And making exaggerated
Sniffs of the
Perfume air...
All this
with only your
Eyes to see
What a nightmare!

Thank nature
Our imagination
Roams free in our head
Not physically in our world!
If that were the case...
What kind of world
Would we live in?
Skeletons wearing
Coconuts
Singing karaoke...
Hummingbirds
******* the juice
From our eyeballs...  
Again I say
Thank nature
Our imagination
Roams free in our head
Not freely
In our world!


*Inspired at a festival, while
I observed all the fun happening around.

Today the skies were sunny and
bright, but not for me.
People were out walking in the
streets, I had nowhere to be.

Somebody was singing karaoke
while hearing a favorite song.
I couldn't seem to do anything
right, without thinking wrong.

In the garage I found one of my
granddaughters favorite toys.
Then I found myself becoming
sad because I have no boys.

My wife saw something on sale,
she said I would like this honey.
I kept saying to myself, we just
don't have the money.

Usually I'm the one who could
tell the best told stories.
Nothing seem to be right anymore
since fibromyalgia stole my glory.

there was a little budgie he just love to sing
he was very clever and could sing almost anything
he loved the karaoke down the local  bar
hoping maybe someday he could be a star
they held a competition so they could find the best
budgie made his entry to him it was a test
then he began to sing in his budgie voice
and won the competition he was the peoples choice
now he was a star his dream it had come
he sings all time just like budgies do

She posts a comment,
Your name
With a smiley face next to it.

I can hear my heart plummet
To the bottom of my stomach,
Disrupting the digestion taking place there,

I feel the vile
Trying to creep its way back up.
Rejecting the news
Its being forced to sort through.

My heart.
I thought it had gotten better,
I thought it was able to digest
This kind of information now
With ease.
Like a taste it was forced to acquire.

I thought it had gotten use to this,
That it had learned how to hold
This sort of thing down.

After the first time
When I had seen your ex post on your wall
She missed you,

Every time you added a new ******* facebook
After a night out
I was no longer invited to.

I thought I had gotten use to it
After you told me you only ever wanted to be friends.
But here I am,

My heart plummeting to my stomach
Trying to force itself to digest this comment
And the plethora of information it holds.

I’m no longer a friend.
No longer someone you invite out.
I hold you back.

When you have a bad day
You flock to one of the many girls
Whom you've accepted into your life
Over the past month
Never to me.

Only hearing from you when no one else wants to go out.
I’m no longer on your invitation list
For your Thursday nights out to karaoke.
I’m not longer significant.

This information is not something
My heart, or mind, or stomach
Can digest.
Trying to reject it,
while I keep trying to force it down.

To you.
I no longer matter.

when i reach you,
i want it to look like the day i left. gray
skies, teasing winds, the ocean roaring and
rushing louder and faster than i've ever seen.
on the boardwalk, i want to hear the
musicians play, but i'll stand by one
in particular--an old man playing an erhu
to background music emitting from a cheap speaker,
sounding like the karaoke songs my
mom would always sing along to. i hated them then, but
i'd give anything to have that back now.

when i reach you, i want you
to listen to me as i describe
how i feel when i see a mother leading her
toddling child by the hand while her husband
looks for a place to sit on the beach. i
won't be able to explain it, but i'll
cry and try my
best to express that
it's love,
it's always been love,
it always will be love,
and this family of strangers is
ruining me and
sustaining me and
they'll never be the wiser.

love is an action.
love is an action.

i want to love you.
i want to love you.

when i reach you, i want you to know
i'm reaching for you, that this isn't
just happenstance, or where everyone ought to go, but
i did it for you.
i took off all my clothes. i killed all my lovers.
i did it to be close to you,
but you feel so far away.
i'm sorry. i'm sorry. i'm sorry.
you have to tell me to stop reaching.

-


Sometimes it feels most practical to be able to forget
To wipe away bitter regrets and past mistakes,
Take with you those once cherished,
lightly tainted memories
and completely clean off your slate.
Wouldn't that be easy?

I'd say to myself, let's start from Square One.
Back again, to when we were fresh friends
And nothing truly mattered, because
We'd only just met
Fresh friends, see that's the safest bet
I’d barely know you and you’d barely know me.

Which means there'd be no cute stories
of how we'd often, somehow,
End up in contemporary art galleries or
browse through used paperback books in
secondhand nooks

No memories of losing myself
time and time again,
in a library of stolen glances,
paper chances
That you could possibly see me one day through my
rose colored glasses (lenses?)

I'd erase these photographs of
Your piano hands, your cautious smiles
how I'd lost my breath when you held my hand and you’d smiled
that day when we lost footing in that throng of music goers in July
intertwined, lungs vibrating,
swallowing in confetti air
Forgetting
How being that close to you was confetti in my very mind

Let there be no recollection
of dreams of stolen kisses and petty wishes
to November’s drunk hamlet readings and karaoke dances
Always one step ahead, see
You were always so much, too much
yet I could never have been quite enough

Square one,
I say
to the day I never realized just how much my veins eagerly rushed
With the synchronous sound of your name,
to when my mirror didn’t whisper every morning,
Ever since that day in May;
“I wonder if she would like this?”
Square One
Where I'd know only of you, but
not how well you drew
Square One
Where I depended on myself
and not you
Square One
Because clearly that would make things
Easy
Square One
But I don’t know if I should do
What’s right or what’s easy

So,
Maybe I shouldn’t take back
All that I said, instead
Ruminate the worthwhile pieces of what’s left
Of these lessons and these laughs
Because

2, 3, 7 months can quickly pass
And we’d still have these left over pieces
Maybe it's okay to collect them, carefully
but only with a fresh pair of eyes and
only once my mind has truly
stabilized

Maybe then I could replace
What’s left of bitter apathy
and undo it with my outstretched arms,
Open palms,
once more- maybe

I could try again with
one last
apology so
I hope you can truly see that

I’m sorry.



pk

is it too much of an onomatopoeic dissonance that this is synonymous to
   regret dubbed as slouched nirvana. Across the bonfire, there’s volition
   as glare, light as judgment. Why they call her
Luningning, I know not.
      Take excess for jaunts and flesh, and pay no heed to illusions. The mirage
  on the wall is but fire-dance on the bitten lip of true company.
                    heady static pierces pinecone. Soon the moon will sink like **** to ****. Or felled star as tripled glaze of salted lip. Or the ****** of the butterfly.
     Are we here to metamorphose these tiny susurrations into a commune?
                     Dank and stale as ****-laced pavement, the whole world now
    spires in uneven strobes. The last song on the karaoke as memory. The knead
      of temperamental air on the scalp. Take pork rind for bread, intemperance
    as tribute. The night dons its silken robe and shows her pair: two moony eyes
               piercing the noise.

Vow Renewal ha davvero bisogno di presentazioni .Perché appartiene Gene Simmons e la abiti da sposa on line sua splendida moglie Shannon di Kiss !E.a parte il folle .folle d'amore che tutti noi sappiamo che condividono .questo duo sa anche come ospitare un impressionante bella festa - con file di Pretty in Pink .schiocchi di favoloso e una devozione a tutte le cose ballare degno.Creato da Lady Liberty Eventi + un cuore Matrimoni con fotografie di Trish Barker .c'è molto di più nella galleria .

Condividi questa splendida galleria ColorsSeasonsSummerSettingsAl FrescoStylesModernRomantic

Dal Liberty Woodman di Lady Liberty Events.I hanno conosciuto Gene e Shannon per anni ed era così eccitato quando hanno deciso di rinnovare i loro voti alle Hawaii !Abbiamo collaborato con i talentuosi One Matrimoni cuore che gentilmente hanno contribuito a portare tutto il glamour alla vita!

Gene e Shannon volevano un incontro molto intimo dei loro più stretti amici e parenti di essere una parte del loro rinnovo di amore .Abbiamo deciso di fare un palato nero .fard e oro per riunire l'atmosfera glamour e moderno.con il suggerimento perfetto di nervosismo .Il progetto per questa occasione era semplicemente incredibile e era la rappresentazione ideale della loro morbida lato romantico mescolato con il loro rock \u0026rotolare personalità !

All'arrivo gli ospiti hanno fatto la loro strada attraverso un bianco appeso all'ingresso 25ft parete del fiore .dove erano seduti a splendide vignette in stile.Una combinazione di divani vintage.pouf e poltrone accentati con moderni cuscini neri e blush tiro .creando un ambiente opulento per i posti a sedere cerimonia.Flutti che scorre biancheria coprivano le pareti e soffitti .mentre blush e avorio nastri proposto come lo sfondo perfetto per la sposa e lo sposo a dire che faccioènuovo.Affiancato da lussureggianti centrotavola di ortensie e un corridoio personalizzato in mostra il loro monogramma .la passeggiata lungo la navata era niente timido di stordimento .gene \u0026Figlia Shannon ' .Sophie .ha messo insieme una cerimonia calorosa e cordiale e con l'aggiunta dei loro voti personali .non c'era un occhio secco in casa .Poco a poco gli ospiti sanno che ci sarebbe stata una cerimonia a sorpresa da seguire!Shannon illustra la sua sorella Sara .e il suo sposo Greg .felice di poter condividere questo giorno speciale con loro.Sara \u0026Greg ha proceduto con più di una cerimonia tradizionale stile hawaiano che ha aggiunto un'aggiunta unica e incantevole per i festeggiamenti .L'amore era certamente nell'aria !Come la coppia ri - sposato.e sposi fecero il loro ritorno lungo la navata.gli ospiti gettati petali che sono stati elegantemente presentati in sacchetti di rete a ogni sedile rosa .Gli ospiti

diretti verso l'area cocktail .che si è svolta sotto un albero magnificamente fiorito che è stato appeso con centinaia di candele appese .Un albero augurio visualizzazione degli ospitiècarte escort perfettamente ondeggiava nel piacevole brezza hawaiana .Le melodie contemporanee suonate dal duo stringa a condizione che il suono perfetto come ospiti sorseggiavano un cocktail speciali e mordicchiò bocconi .Gli ospiti

sono stati poi invitati a fare la loro strada in reception e zona pranzo .guidati dal suono di freddo jazz suonata dal vivo banda di 9 pezzi .La tavola era apparecchiata con biancheria blush frizzante .carica d'oro eposate e nero cristalleria moderna .Ogni impostazione è accentato con neri abiti da sposa on line laser taglio plexi Consiglio vetro carte.che sembrava incredibile contro il rossore e oro toni .Overhead .festoni di blush tendaggi e lampadari splendidi con sfumature nere fornito una magnifica atmosfera .Oro candelabri \u0026votive oro mercurio sono stati mescolati con le modalità lussureggianti che consisteva di fragranti rose da giardino e ortensie stabiliti nel colpire le navi nere .Le sedie erano vestiti con flirty battiscopa blush che fatica complimentato il paesaggio tavolo .La vivace verde vivente che circonda la zona e il suono luce delle cascate perfezionato l'aspetto della sala da pranzo .

L'enorme pista da ballo bianco incandescente con Gene \u0026Monogramma Shannon ' stato circondato da 4 .100 £ lampadari floreali che erano semplicemente bocca caduta .Vignette Petite circondato il pavimento e sono stati accentati con personalizzati monogramma cuscini di seta dupioni con ricami in oro .Una volta che tutti hanno fatto la loro strada verso la pista da ballo .feste la sera ' aveva appena iniziato !Shannon aveva chiesto karaoke per abiti da sposa corti la ricezione .così abbiamo pensato



così cosa c'è di meglio che avere una band suonare dal vivo come la loro musica di sottofondo !Sophie ( Gene e figlia Shannon ' ) ha iniziato le danze via con la sua interpretazione diè eeautifulèeè et Ultimoè?mentre i suoi genitori amorevolmente ballavano tra di loro e hanno accolto i loro amici e familiari a unirsi a loro sul pavimento .Gene saltò sul contrabbasso .mentre .Sophie \u0026Nick ( i loro figli ) ha cantato tutta la notte .Hanno sicuramente tutti scosso la casa .e ci siamo divertiti tutta la serata !
la serata si è conclusa .Gene e Shannon sono stati presentati con una splendida torta 3-tier .che consisteva di due livelli oro con finiture nere.e un livello inferiore di perfezione filodiffusione avorio rose .Mentre gli ospiti erano riuniti attorno .un solo cuore matrimoni avevano sorpreso gli ospiti con una giornata di modifica video l'intera attività serate .ogni ipotesi era in soggezione .E 'stato il modo perfetto per concludere questa bella raccoltaèsi poteva assolutamente sentire l'amore nell'aria

Banda : Jimmy Mac \u0026 The Kool Kats | Dress Brides 1 : . Jenny Packham | Dress Brides 2 : Badgley Mischka | Cake: DesignerCakes | Restauro : Sugar Beach Catering | Sedia Covers : Wildflower lino | Coordinatore / Progettista : Lady Liberty Eventi | Assistenza design: bianco Orchid Weddings | Designer : Matrimoni Un cuore | Fiori : Uno Matrimoni cuore | biancheria: La Tavola biancheria | Fotografia : TrishFotografia Barker | Luogo Carte : Pitbulls e Posies | String Duo : Don Lax | Luogo : Haiku Mill | caricabatterie: BBJ LinenBadgley Mischka è un membro del nostro Look Book .Per ulteriori informazioni su come vengono scelti i membri .fare clic qui .Wildflower Lino.un'orchidea da sposa bianco .INC .BBJ e Lady Liberty eventi fanno parte del nostro Little Black Book .Scopri come i membri sono scelti visitando la nostra pagina delle FAQ .Wildflower Linen vedi portfolio un'orchidea da sposa bianco .INC vedi portfolio BBJ vedi portfolio Lady Liberty Eventi visualizza
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I tell her
about my first time smoking *** in a stranger’s rundown apartment, somewhere between Paris and Amsterdam
about growing up in the Whiskey Flats next to strip clubs, gun shops, liquor stores, and lots of cows
about swimming naked in the south of France, speaking to strangers in a tongue with which I was not familiar.
about using a Japanese toilet; drunk at a karaoke bar
about getting my hair cut by random French men in random French hostels

I tell her my experiences,
but I cannot remember the giggles of intoxication,
the smell of the cows, the chill of the water,
or the words that fell from my lips.

She may envy my life,
but I envy the way she lives

So tell me, Emily
how you smile in the morning and say words like “sunshine”
tell me what the salt water tasted like on a beach in South Africa
tell me about the beauty of forgiveness, the bitterness of your tears, the curls in your hair, the music in your soul
tell me about love
tell me what it’s like to live.

There once was from Okefenokee
A bullfrog who sang karaoke:
     He sang with conviction
     And a crystal clear diction,
But his tone was a little too croaky.

If you would have asked me to stay
i would not have said no,
it would never have meant yes

I despised those pants you used to wear, the ones that fell too short and landed too far above your shoes.
it made you look like a child who had out grown his pants.

your mom gave me a look of distrust; she was always right about me.

I didn't cheat on you the morning in March when you accused me, although I wanted to.
in June I cheated with the bartender from the karaoke bar where you sang Bob Marley that one spring night.

I thought I would regret it, I didn't.
I told you I loved you because you said it first, I didn't mean it for another 3 months.

I never liked your singing voice,
or New York City.
I still dream of the way you looked at me the first day we danced.
I cried about you last week stuck in LA traffic.

I think about you every other morning, and when I'm drinking red wine.

you were always a lover. sometimes I just needed a friend.

Ive tried to convince myself it wasn't my fault-
the truth is you would never have been enough
my burden to bear is that I'm addicted to chaos… excitement… fire.

Your burden is that you cared too much.

you are tranquil, I am a hurricane.

I want to make you laugh again.

.

Seems that I'm spending
most of my time down at the Karaoke King.
Under more normal circumstances
I wouldn't even say a thing.(But...)

I need to invest some more time in me
or I'll never become a star,
because I've sunk a pretty penny
just pimpin' out my car.

And this Mississippi mud
is even bogging down my truck,
and if I don't keep it rockin'
I may never get unstuck.

Success always comes from hard, hard work
it never comes to you from afar.
Would you please remind me tonight
to change the strings on my air guitar?

And I've been too tired to dance
with my own silhouette.
I just want a house out in the country,
and a brand new black Corvette.

My future's slowly rising,
it shouldn't take me long.
You see, this stage has been my home
and this here's my new song!

I need to invest some more time in me
or I'll never become a star,
because I've sunk a pretty penny 
 just pimpin' out my car.

And this Mississippi mud
is even boggin' down my truck,
and if I don't keep it rockin'
I may never get unstuck.

Wont you help me,
please; won't you help me?
Because I want to be a star.

Just do me a favor and remind me tonight
to change the strings on my air guitar.
Please do me a favor and remind me tonight...
to change the strings on my air guitar.






.

You will feel deeply
Little girls can write like dragon ladies,
galvanise poems and spit them out metallic
slipped through pavement portal cracks
I don’t want to write like a girl anymore
there’s no air holes.
Dragon ladies told me not to
I stuck googley eyes on my conscience
diversion tactics
I hope the world doesn’t eat me
crack sun-roof open
limbs steer in different directions and going around in circles.
No canoe
I want to be an radio ooost
me in their karaoke voices
if you stop being yourself, it will set you free.
Cha-cha-cha.
if you stop being yourself, it will set you free.

a bus ride to somewhere
tranquil or at least to
somewhere less loud
i look high or tired or
a combination of both
                              what is the word...
                                                         there.
                                                     pa-thet-ic
maybe traveling with
an empty stomach helped
because normally
i would've puked
banana bread and tea by now
                           i've always hated shaky
                                drives and the smell of
                                                      air freshener
do you hear all the noise too
there's a madman shouting
in my ear, a ****** karaoke tune
and a tiny voice saying
                                       you're immaterial
repeatedly
                                                   or is it just me
how do you function
when you feel like you've lost
an arm except in my case
it's my brain that's been missing
                                 you should see my stash
                                                       of milk cartons