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"kristina" poems
I have a blue blanket, it looks corduroy but it's synthetic polynesian cotton. Considered by some to be polyester. After the ninth year of ownership I started Telling house guests it had always been mine; but secretly knowing it came from my Ex Kristina who left it with some of her other things in 2005 in my grand deluxe Evanston Apartment. In like some really awesome way, I could fold the corners together to see little blocks Of the Universe form cubes in the fourth dimension and gain a better understanding of my own Little black shmata. Top drawer, white dresser, in the back with the leftover girlfriend underwear between My first ever stuffed animal dog/rabbit. Amazing how these thinned and frayed azure threads had held so many midnight conversations Together- maybe fifteen other girls had nuzzled with Kristina's blanket. Last year the guilt set in. You Watch a girlfriend, say, ratchet through your room naked for something soft to put over her to listen to Some half-stanza from the new Yeats critical and that, do-I-tell-her feeling comes over you. Blue Polyester really had a way with women. My last serious crush, the one of six months, the one from the place that was close to where I worked six days a week, would you believe, she had not interest in that heap of thread, under my pillows spying on us sleep for twenty-four long weeks. "Drop in the bucket" the sixty-year-olds say. I say, bring me my ******* fourth dimension blocks and cubes ************ I want to visit the existential, I want to experience the hoo-ra and Ga-Ga those kids throw around on Milwaukee waiting for $150 NBA slippers. Wednesday is my day for telling the truth. 2:00p.m. sitting in the front of her alizarin El Dorado. "I have something I have to tell you," I said, my mouth practically filled with marbles as I barely could Utter the words: it's not going to work out.
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Apr 26, 2014
Apr 26, 2014 at 5:51 AM UTC
Blue Polyester
I have a blue blanket, it looks corduroy but it's synthetic polynesian cotton. Considered by some to be polyester. After the ninth year of ownership I started Telling house guests it had always been mine; but secretly knowing it came from my Ex Kristina who left it with some of her other things in 2005 in my grand deluxe Evanston Apartment. In like some really awesome way, I could fold the corners together to see little blocks Of the Universe form cubes in the fourth dimension and gain a better understanding of my own Little black shmata. Top drawer, white dresser, in the back with the leftover girlfriend underwear between My first ever stuffed animal dog/rabbit. Amazing how these thinned and frayed azure threads had held so many midnight conversations Together- maybe fifteen other girls had nuzzled with Kristina's blanket. Last year the guilt set in. You Watch a girlfriend, say, ratchet through your room naked for something soft to put over her to listen to Some half-stanza from the new Yeats critical and that, do-I-tell-her feeling comes over you. Blue Polyester really had a way with women. My last serious crush, the one of six months, the one from the place that was close to where I worked six days a week, would you believe, she had not interest in that heap of thread, under my pillows spying on us sleep for twenty-four long weeks. "Drop in the bucket" the sixty-year-olds say. I say, bring me my ******* fourth dimension blocks and cubes ************ I want to visit the existential, I want to experience the hoo-ra and Ga-Ga those kids throw around on Milwaukee waiting for $150 NBA slippers. Wednesday is my day for telling the truth. 2:00p.m. sitting in the front of her alizarin El Dorado. "I have something I have to tell you," I said, my mouth practically filled with marbles as I barely could Utter the words: it's not going to work out.
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14
Kristina, my friend that I adore. Kristina, you smiling bubbly joy. In the dark hours we talked and talked. When the summer came the world we walked. I held you close when times we tough. You held me back, strong but not rough. Your eyes glisten a deep dark brown. A face to beautiful to know a frown. And then he came. You speak with him, while I wait in the rain. My hopes and dreams circling the drains. But still I'm happy that you are too. Because that is love if the love is true. I hope he makes you happy, stays loyal through thick and thin. But we both know that’s not the case. So why did you choose him?
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Feb 28, 2015
Feb 28, 2015 at 11:03 AM UTC
Love
Dear Kristina, Your name is still tattooed on my left *** cheek. I remember how it curled your lips like the cursive script it's written it. You called me an idiot every time I made you look at it My mother said the same thing, except without the smile. I guess somebody should have explained to me the permanace of drunken whims or ****** friends who giggle too much, but **** it. And **** you. I burned your birthday cards and ticket stubs to bands that haven't sounded good since October 25. I loved you. I threw away your black high school track team sweatshirt and those little ducky magnets with Italian words coming out of their beaks. I pretended they were funny just because I knew you felt lame buying them for yourself. But I'm still looking for pieces, thinking in circles, wasting hours trying to dream of anything but you. See you never, Michael Dear Kristina, You spent a lot of time on your knees for me. I liked that. But we started falling apart when you started standing up. God gave us with voices that yell in permanant ink. I forget what straightened your knees and made you pick up a pen, but I do remember how tall you became. I admire you now. You learned far earlier than I that the hardest thing in the world is to stand up to those we love and I couldnt deal with change. You were a handful of quarters when I had holes in my pockets. Maybe I let you slip away but maybe I never should have put you there in the first place. It's safe to say I'm over you, so I feel safe saying I'm sorry. Sincerely, Michael Dear Kristina, I lost your address a long time ago. This letter will never leave the spiral of this diary. I couldn't remember what you looked like today, and have forgotten most of the things you ever said but I still hold on to the things you taught me. I've worn a ring for many years now, and though my aging arms have long embraced another woman, and waved goodbye this year to a son standing on the steps of a college dormitory, your name is still tattooed on my left *** cheek: living, ******** proof that no matter how hard we scrub, the fingerprints of those that touch our souls can never be erased. Love, Michael
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Jul 7, 2013
Jul 7, 2013 at 10:03 PM UTC
Dear Kristina
Dear Kristina, Your name is still tattooed on my left *** cheek. I remember how it curled your lips like the cursive script it's written it. You called me an idiot every time I made you look at it My mother said the same thing, except without the smile. I guess somebody should have explained to me the permanace of drunken whims or ****** friends who giggle too much, but **** it. And **** you. I burned your birthday cards and ticket stubs to bands that haven't sounded good since October 25. I loved you. I threw away your black high school track team sweatshirt and those little ducky magnets with Italian words coming out of their beaks. I pretended they were funny just because I knew you felt lame buying them for yourself. But I'm still looking for pieces, thinking in circles, wasting hours trying to dream of anything but you. See you never, Michael Dear Kristina, You spent a lot of time on your knees for me. I liked that. But we started falling apart when you started standing up. God gave us with voices that yell in permanant ink. I forget what straightened your knees and made you pick up a pen, but I do remember how tall you became. I admire you now. You learned far earlier than I that the hardest thing in the world is to stand up to those we love and I couldnt deal with change. You were a handful of quarters when I had holes in my pockets. Maybe I let you slip away but maybe I never should have put you there in the first place. It's safe to say I'm over you, so I feel safe saying I'm sorry. Sincerely, Michael Dear Kristina, I lost your address a long time ago. This letter will never leave the spiral of this diary. I couldn't remember what you looked like today, and have forgotten most of the things you ever said but I still hold on to the things you taught me. I've worn a ring for many years now, and though my aging arms have long embraced another woman, and waved goodbye this year to a son standing on the steps of a college dormitory, your name is still tattooed on my left *** cheek: living, ******** proof that no matter how hard we scrub, the fingerprints of those that touch our souls can never be erased. Love, Michael
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74
Kristina my lady with a heart made of gold Courage in abundance, kindness in mould There with a hug or a kind word in need Never strays from her duties, never changes her creed Beautiful inside and out I'm trying to find her equal One of a kind i'm afraid, ne'er a sequel. Spending time with me is a gift on its own Looking over the past seeing how much we've both grown Best friends for ever, GET ON MY LEVEL She's got a level all her own, everyone sits there and revels. I love Stina, best friend of mine So happy that you are one of a kind.
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Feb 4, 2012
Feb 4, 2012 at 6:50 PM UTC
Kristina
Despite your sorrow, your grief, your smile stayed sweet giving warmth as you maneuvered through the world, a solitary, inner orphan since that awful time a few years ago The heavy pain you carried that wouldn't let you be The unanswered conundrums that resisted parsing for one so young Yet all along, there was the inherited voice lying quietly within you like a sleeping bird's awaiting the dawn desiring to sing again in splendorous tones a new day's joyful awakening February 3, 2015
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Feb 5, 2015
Feb 5, 2015 at 9:20 PM UTC
LINES TO HONOR BOBBI KRISTINA BROWN
We'd like to think that we could go Out for an evening and not have to worry That we are going to end up being The helpless victim of a gunman's fury. One would think that mass shootings In which so many lives are lost Might compel lawmakers To stop the killings at any cost. When so many shootings occur On American soil year after year, Don't enough people wonder What the hell is happening here? What are people waiting for? How many more victims will die? Must we sit by helplessly While lawmakers turn a blind eye? Another horrific act of violence Occurred at the Borderline Bar & Grill When a solitary gunman Had one thing on his mind: to **** Eleven young people gunned down. An officer shot dead as well. Only survivors who were present Can talk about their glimpse of hell. The killer, too, lost his life From a wound, possibly self-inflicted. Some say in retrospect His actions could have been predicted. No one can fathom the suffering Of the victims' parents, families and friends-- Their heartache and anguish from knowing that Their loved ones met such violent ends. Just two weeks before Thanksgiving! This year it will be a chore To ask the parents staring at empty Seats what they are thankful for. A call to action is the only response To the horror that this nightmare evokes When twelve innocent victims must Lose their lives in Thousand Oaks. Remember the victims: Sgt. Ron Helus (54) Sean Adler (48) Cody Coffman (22) Blake Dingman (21) Jake Dunham (21) Alaina Housley (18) Daniel Manrique (33) Justin Meek (23) Mark Meza (20) Kristina Morisette (20) Telemachus Orfanos (27) Noel Sparks (21) A mother of one of the victims has said, "Here are my words. I want gun control. I don't want prayers. I don't want thoughts." -by Bob B (11-9-18)
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Nov 9, 2018
Nov 9, 2018 at 10:13 AM UTC
13 Killed in Thousand Oaks
We'd like to think that we could go Out for an evening and not have to worry That we are going to end up being The helpless victim of a gunman's fury. One would think that mass shootings In which so many lives are lost Might compel lawmakers To stop the killings at any cost. When so many shootings occur On American soil year after year, Don't enough people wonder What the hell is happening here? What are people waiting for? How many more victims will die? Must we sit by helplessly While lawmakers turn a blind eye? Another horrific act of violence Occurred at the Borderline Bar & Grill When a solitary gunman Had one thing on his mind: to **** Eleven young people gunned down. An officer shot dead as well. Only survivors who were present Can talk about their glimpse of hell. The killer, too, lost his life From a wound, possibly self-inflicted. Some say in retrospect His actions could have been predicted. No one can fathom the suffering Of the victims' parents, families and friends-- Their heartache and anguish from knowing that Their loved ones met such violent ends. Just two weeks before Thanksgiving! This year it will be a chore To ask the parents staring at empty Seats what they are thankful for. A call to action is the only response To the horror that this nightmare evokes When twelve innocent victims must Lose their lives in Thousand Oaks. Remember the victims: Sgt. Ron Helus (54) Sean Adler (48) Cody Coffman (22) Blake Dingman (21) Jake Dunham (21) Alaina Housley (18) Daniel Manrique (33) Justin Meek (23) Mark Meza (20) Kristina Morisette (20) Telemachus Orfanos (27) Noel Sparks (21) A mother of one of the victims has said, "Here are my words. I want gun control. I don't want prayers. I don't want thoughts." -by Bob B (11-9-18)
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57
Kristina Palten walked ... yes, walked, through the Islamic country of Iran an ancient land & a journey of 1144 miles on foot, day one she cried with fear & yet as day followed day she was met by strangers giving food, water & offers of shelter for the night, she shared breakfast, lunch & dinner with Islamic families from an Islamic country, & Kristina Palten leaves me with a genuine feeling of warmth & sincere respect, Kristina Palten I am in awe & send my very best greetings.
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Apr 4, 2017
Apr 4, 2017 at 6:34 PM UTC
Kristina Palten walked ...
Today is a day to remember, the birthday of my best friend forever. With her courage her strength, to her I must thank. For the impressions she lays, to her friends her loyalty always stays. shes the one in the back, but the lead of the pack. Shes the loudest out of all, shes there when we fall shes been there from the start, with her big ol' heart. she will be there 'till the end, because she's a true best friend.
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Sep 27, 2013
Sep 27, 2013 at 1:40 PM UTC
Kristina Marie September 27th, 2013
Eric Rohmer gave us Claire's Knee and it's irresistible allure Kristina's Thigh is all that and more
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Nov 15, 2016
Nov 15, 2016 at 10:23 PM UTC
Kristina's Thigh
Why? Many probably wonder. Bobby Kristina, why? All we know God holds that answer. For every death that occurs in life. The Lord holds that purpose deeply close to his spiritual awakening. Sometimes, a child without their mother has no guidance. Sure friends, associates and close family's members fill in that slot. But within other minds, you simply was lost. And now you back in the heavenly arms of your closest kin. The one most daughters upon earth call their closest of friends. In a place filled with serenity. In a place filled with guardian angels.
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Jul 26, 2015
Jul 26, 2015 at 9:58 PM UTC
Bobbi Kristina
I want to date Kristina Mladenovic but she has no idea who I am if she knew who I was she would still have no interest this is not encouraging but one never knows...
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Nov 12, 2016
Nov 12, 2016 at 9:48 PM UTC
Hope is that thing...