"kristin" poems
In toasting Mike I recollect
His steady watching gaze,
I recollect his calm
On a thousand stormy days.
I recall his jaunty humour
In his funny cockney style,
And the rationale behind it
And the pleasure of his smile.
And the quiet determination
In the steeliness within
And the love that emanated
When his Jules laughed loud with him.
When he held her hand and strolled
In the life they shared as one,
In the racket of the grand kids
As they shout and leap and run.
Through the years of hardy seamanship
From England's chalky reach,
Across the ocean's vastness
To far antipodean beach,
To the soft greens of New Zealand
And the promise of this land
And the shining eyes of Jules
When he offered her his hand.
And the life they shared together
Through the joy, the strain the tears
The utter joy of baby Kristin
And her beauty through the years.
The seamlessness of craftmanship
In tradesman's art supreme
And the pride of his achievement
In a sweet successful dream.
A chasm has appeared in life
Where old Mike used to be.
Dreadfull death has exercised
It's right to set him free.
But I can't feel bad for Micheal
For the brilliance of it all
Is celebration of his life well lived
And my toast to judgement's call.
Marshalg
@theBach
Mangere Bridge
10 January 2010.
Jan 10, 2010
Jan 10, 2010 at 6:51 AM UTC
Her voice poors out of her mouth
She is able to stand on that stage and share her talent
She is talented
That voice is thick and strong and loud enough to reach hundreds of ears
That voice is smooth and gentle and soft enough to please hundreds of hearts
What good is a second-rate piano player compared to a voice like that?
Her skirt will always be longer, more flirty
Her teeth with always be straighter, tucked further away with the pensive look she has
It is my love for Victor Hugo against her love for Victor Hugo
My love for Broadway versus her love for Broadway
But all I have is 10 stubby fingers to tickle the worn Baldwin in my living room
She has that voice in a room full of red velvet seats
It is my interest in Kristin Chenoweth against her interest in Kristin Chenoweth
We both like to read
We both like the theatre
We both like you
But what can compare to a voice like that?
Apr 16, 2013
Apr 16, 2013 at 10:03 PM UTC
Growing up as a guy I have something to admit
Its that theres so many girls that i'll never forget
So i'll jump right in and go right from the start
and tell you about all these girls that have affected my heart
So lets start with the As there is two that first come to mind
and thats Ambrea and Ashley, their each one of a kind
Now those are my sisters so their first to be said
but lets continue on to who else pops in my head
lets see...there's 2 Ashley As, but only one Ashley G
can't forget Amanda K, or all 7 Amys
There are so many As that we'd have to stay way long
let me wrap it up quick with the cutest one "akon"
You should see all these B's their so pretty it scares me
theres Beth and theres B thou, theres Bee and B. Barry
In the C's we have Crepeele with her pretty long blonde hur
and then we have Cameo, thats right, Mama Burr
On to the Ds they would never be meana
theres danielle carey, and then there is dreena
though im sure there are Es-Hs to do
i'm skipping to Js starting with J. Gubbes
Janelle, Jolene, or Jocelyn B.
Jordan, and Jen, and Jill L. you see
Jamie, and jasmine, or J. Allen
Jaylene, and Jessica, and then jen again
Oh God now the Ks, not sure where to begin...
I'll start with the departed R.I.P. Kristin
On to the girls that are more than alive,
Lets take, Keilyn, Kayla, and Karmen on a test drive
Three other K's must get named out for sure
And that's Kaley, Kansas, and Kristjana Schure
Two Girls in the Ls that are way way to awesome
And thats Lauren Borsheim, and of course, Laura Klassen
On to the Ms there is no time to spare
Just one, Maryke, and she cuts my hair
...I'm just kidding MOM you know your up there!
We do have an N there's nothing to fear
Her name is Niki, she lives in Red Deer
No Os, or Ps, or Qs to discuss
we'll move on to R's cause this next ones a must
Rachael K the Australian Wonder
Rebecca's art is so good she draws lightning and thunder
Theres a couple of shellys, and Sam 1 and 2
Tara looks like a model, and Tia does too
Don't know any Us, the Vs go in order
Vanessa M, V. Young, and VJ the reporter
If your name wasn't mentioned no need to be sour
this poem was rushed, took me less than an hour
Aug 30, 2010
Aug 30, 2010 at 10:04 PM UTC
Wishing a very Happy Birthday
To the sweetest girl I’ve ever known.
My muse, my soulmate, my best friend.
Just for a moment would you loan me
An ear to show you I’m glad you know me.
I could give you every gift under the sun
And remind you every minute of every day,
You’re The One!
But nothing I say or do will ever be enough
To share my gratitude for your love.
To show you, no stars burn so brightly
As your eyes in mine, Dearest Dove.
The first time I saw you, stunned as you twirled,
It was plain to see, You’re The Gift To The World!
Kristin Bianca Garcia - I Love You ❤️💙💛
Sep 21, 2021
Sep 21, 2021 at 9:30 PM UTC
My friends are dropping like flies,
and by dropping, I mean dying.
I mean no longer trying to
fly in a world that wanted
them grounded.
Perry drowned,
and Greg was
found on Highway 6 hit by a
minivan—vodka in hand.
They say the best laid
plans of mice and men oft go
astray—that’s an understatement.
My life plays out like
a scene from Dante’s Inferno.
Abandon all hope.
A month back, Kristin dies from
too much dope.
Tibbs goes out from a
stroke
or some kind of strange brain
malfunction.
I did C.P.R. at the
great wall,
the junction where
the drunks drink and the
dreamers scheme.
It doesn’t work—he goes into a coma.
No more roaming the streets with
my Sancho,
no more
beating the heat with
stolen wine in the
summer slick shade by
the river,
trying to save the
last sliver of our
humanity—only to walk head
long into a ****** up
destiny.
Providence can be a
punk *** ***** when it
wants to be.
See,
I’m not fooled by
life’s strong arm tactics,
one day my friends are fine;
the next,
they’re in caskets—and I’ll
be a basket case when it’s
all said and done.
****
standing still and
****
the sun.
**** the
moon and the stars
and the ******
and the bars.
****
This silly world
I’m done.
Feb 28, 2023
Feb 28, 2023 at 7:10 AM UTC
I'm walking down a country road just west
of Silver Lake with my dog, Cinder. Just east
is the Kansas River, woods between it and me.
I'm not alone exactly. With me are Sherry,
Stephani, Kathleen, Susan, Cara, Anne, Cynthia,
Nancy, Kristin, and Patricia--at least in memory.
As I amble, I'm in a trance. Moments of laughter.
Afternoons of picnics--hotdogs, potato salad,
lemonade. Trips to the Rockies. Steamboat Springs
was my favorite destination. When you got high
enough in the mountains, not only could you see
their majesty, but even better, you could smell
the fragrance of the evergreens, the ultimate high.
Rafting down the Arkansas River sometimes,
down the Colorado other times. A melange of
memories. Decades of intimacy, nights of passion.
Some tears, but more kisses than tears. Cinder
kept up with me as I would occasionally kick up
dust as I continued my country walk. If was as if
I were walking through my past. I guess that's
exactly what I was doing, remembering the mountain
air, the tender touches, the silence lying side by side.
I was taking a walk down a country road with Cinder,
but we were not alone.
TOD HOWARD HAWKS
May 5, 2023
May 5, 2023 at 7:21 AM UTC
“…where a kelpie lived”
“A little below the bridge was a pool where a kelpie lived.”
-Sigrid Unset, Kristin Lavransdatter, p. 8
If you are blessed with a little back yard
The smallest of gardens, a bit of grass
Then you have pixies and fairies and sprites
They like you, but they’re awfully shy, you know
If in your garden there is a little pool
Even a dish of water for the cat
Then you have a tiny kelpie or two
(And they are much nicer than you’ve been told)
In flower and leaf and water and soft night air -
Oh, yes, there is sweet magic everywhere
Oct 10, 2019
Oct 10, 2019 at 11:52 AM UTC
Everyone in Australia and Canada,
among men and women, girls and
Asia Southern grass, drought, Russia,
Europe, and let Googie in. Let us
all be sure of Kristin, energy and
lifestyle Imamondo singing whales,
Spanish & Italian magazines, 500
artificial memories, German Memory,
Memory in HD, a fortress, a kiss, a
Memory
Memory of Cicero's lifestyle,
English,
French,
and the Kingdom of Health still
Describes cutting travel to the victory
of the English, to the very Kakajinawa
Saka Farah Alaruk, Mary. Cicero's
brother lies Brown (Mario Cicero),
you cannot do with the fact
that the United States, John
Christian religion to you. a district
on the regions of Asia and Arabia,
and of, 'who sues for unto you the
King of Asia who in Igun is a
gunmaker of witchcraft and the
death of his brother's house: and
he is the one, who has died,
and they can be positioned to cut,
than the fact is that in exchange;
But the most Elijah to use PS.
"The communication wire on
Monique, seven ***** men
& an Ireland Race Track; Kalk
best in bed, bed, Orlando
Gibbons; Jenks Onki; Wanchai,
birds, Amarescava Navar 'Yukuchu"
** Chi Minh Hijira in town,
Canada, Russia, the ring, Canada,
Google that attempts golf stars -
Zymy hostility, China - High School
Drogda Poetariacia new man, salad ...
Thomas Polovie Malani Jagari
Zahulputia soft Mohi Khushi Khost
Patnaia want Color red, bitter 1000 2:
1 McLean's tour of Asia marine baking
car the shopping center Shopping Asia
city Asia Jogieglian Maisel Canada,
Mexico, Yolb mid-June Prize Geo kind
of Helleborus Hannkius with rice,
Chase engagement, "1 am an Hakon
vernulam chili, rice carrier locking -
Innovation - - Carl Jung believed
to be on board, Sangong Gijingu
playlist to check with the robot.
The colors pray for Cheetah
Chrome, sugar and a music player,
a singer and the kids in his memory
and for kids and money and kids:
Yuku and the kid with the kids
from the kids and the kids in other
law 2,500 children, young girls,
children, young people and young
people and those young players
varsity in July diameter of the well.
Then Judas, who has heard from
the Father, and He is not a it is designed
for Puliolio 1000 Young J Steelji
John would seem to be unknown
to the FA, Jududu Maad, other than
A, which is the 8 of FD Nangal,
Ojajo, Siddhi, Vinayak, Janmuna!
Dec 3, 2018
Dec 3, 2018 at 4:18 PM UTC
There's no question about it - married life suits Beth Ditto .
The singer, who fronts the Gossip, stepped out to attend the Jean Paul Gaultier show during Paris Fashion Week on Wednesday.
It marked the opportunity for her to soak up all things style-related, not to mention flaunt her slimmed-down figure.
The songstress appeared to have shed a noticeable amount of weight as she rocked up wearing a black corset and knee-length skirt.
She appeared in very high spirits for the event and was clocked smiling from ear to ear before taking her place on the front row.
Beth is no stranger to the fashion brand, having made her runway debut for Jean Paul Gaultier back in 2010.
Afterwards she would stay clear of the catwalk for several years before making a triumphant return during New York Fashion Week in September .
Beth has continued to lose weight since that high-profile gig, even though in the past she's insisted she'd never want to be slim.
She famously told In Touch: "I have been contemplating as to whether I should go on a diet.
"I cannot ignore the whole world, but I want to accept the way that I am and I don’t want to change. Life is too short for that!"
Whether she's consciously trying to slim down or not, Beth is definitely looking happier and healthier as she enters her second year of marriage.
Beth officially wed wife Kristin Ogata in a ceremony held on New Year's Eve 2014 .
The pair had previously held a lavish ceremony 17-months earlier but their union wasn't legally binding.
read more:www.marieaustralia.com/red-carpet-celebrity-dresses
www.marieaustralia.com/long-formal-dresses
Jan 28, 2016
Jan 28, 2016 at 10:06 PM UTC
Kristin says that you’re a ****
At two in the morning I took a drive by myself to The Middle Of Nowhere, Surprise, Arizona, and I’m just sitting in the dark, gazing into the flat black sky. The moon is dulled, hazy, and blurred by the casted smear of clouds, like my current opinion of you. I don’t know what it is that I should feel anymore. I haven’t cried in an extensive stretch of my life, which in real time is actually only a couple of days, but last week feels like a year ago to me.
It’s so quiet in my heart.
There’s no traces of hurt that I can muster enough delving to detect within myself, but I know that if I went back home and fell asleep in my room, I would wake up drenched in sweat under the covers, simultaneously shivering and overheated and silently overwhelmed, daunted by the absence of your love.
But right now, sitting in my car, curing like a taciturn husk of a person in the reticence of the night, I can almost mistake this detachment for serenity. The night wraps me in a blanket infinitely more comfortable than the ones on my bed, and nothing is out here to tie you back to my memory.
I don’t know what it is that I think of you, anymore.
Kristin says that you’re a **** and maybe that’s true. But there was someone else there, too—there was someone of particular interest that I can almost remember, someone that had me feeling deeply every single “I love you”. But it’s been a year in my time, and I’ve forgotten. It doesn’t feel like you had ever been mine, and right now, sitting in my dark car, everything is completely, entirely, serenely fine.
I can’t see the moon anymore.
Feb 8, 2014
Feb 8, 2014 at 4:45 AM UTC
Writing to grow flowers out of my dead thoughts
usually late late dark late at night
the gem hours: red with the tunnel vision of 2am
to fear in avoiding paranoia winter dreaming
and waking up to the world streaming light into the window,
but it’s colder then it looks out there-
deceptive weather keeping things interesting
Weather and this life are strange
like how it would snow in the more southern neighborhoods
by Kristin’s house on Jackson St.
(near where the old german man sold chocolate)
and stay dry by my house
Stay dry by Anthony’s pizza where I went to dinner
when my grades were good
and after the Christmas pageant
when I walked off the wrong side of the stage-
it’s always been a horror- to give my body and attention
to a room full of people with high expectations
I guess that’s why it’s necessary
to continue to try to prove fathers wrong
who stick themselves into bad situations and recording studios
and stay away forever
Now: dead grass the only nature around
and Strattera to numb the high decibel level of the mess-
a loud scream, a reminder of tomorrow tomorrow tomorrow
red tomorrow of having to follow through
I write to find a way out of the quick sand- a reason to get out of bed.
Apr 25, 2014
Apr 25, 2014 at 3:27 PM UTC
Lawrence Hall, HSG
[email protected]
Faces Among the Leaves
At first she thought it was but the rock and the bushes…
But all at once she was aware of a face among the leaves…
-Sigrid Undset, Kristin Lavransdatter
There are curious faces among the leaves
Among the trees and sometimes in the trees
Along the road a little old man appears
Looking at me from the trunk of a rotting pine
He seems to be a little bit annoyed
But not dangerous; he’s become used to me
Tapping along with my shiny hiker’s stick
Searching the winter sky for something of truth
And there are bare feet dancing in the underbrush
And faces in the trees I must not see
Feb 20, 2024
Feb 20, 2024 at 1:39 PM UTC
You think you're cool
I think you're a fool
Too pretty for me?
Evil comes in threes
Just like your chins
and none of your wins
I hate you
today's a day you'll always rue
You're a *****
I'll leave you in a ditch
Mar 1, 2016
Mar 1, 2016 at 12:48 AM UTC