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"lookout" poems
The ultimate Dragon Poem and a childhood favourite of mine which still sends shivers to this day... Puff, the magic dragon lived by the sea And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Honahlee Little Jackie paper loved that rascal puff And brought him strings and sealing wax and other fancy stuff oh Puff, the magic dragon lived by the sea And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Honahlee Puff, the magic dragon lived by the sea And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Honahlee Together they would travel on a boat with billowed sail Jackie kept a lookout perched on puff's gigantic tail Noble kings and princes would bow whene'er they came Pirate ships would lower their flag when puff roared out his name oh Puff, the magic dragon lived by the sea And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Honahlee Puff, the magic dragon lived by the sea And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Honahlee A dragon lives forever but not so little boys Painted wings and giant rings make way for other toys One grey night it happened, Jackie Paper came no more And puff that mighty dragon, he ceased his fearless roar His head was bent in sorrow, green scales fell like rain Puff no longer went to play along the cherry lane Without his life-long friend, puff could not be brave So Puff that mighty dragon sadly slipped into his cave oh Puff, the magic dragon lived by the sea And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Honahlee Puff, the magic dragon lived by the sea And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Honahlee
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Feb 27, 2017
Feb 27, 2017 at 10:39 AM UTC
Puff The Magic Dragon by Leonard Lipton, Peter Yarrow
The ultimate Dragon Poem and a childhood favourite of mine which still sends shivers to this day... Puff, the magic dragon lived by the sea And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Honahlee Little Jackie paper loved that rascal puff And brought him strings and sealing wax and other fancy stuff oh Puff, the magic dragon lived by the sea And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Honahlee Puff, the magic dragon lived by the sea And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Honahlee Together they would travel on a boat with billowed sail Jackie kept a lookout perched on puff's gigantic tail Noble kings and princes would bow whene'er they came Pirate ships would lower their flag when puff roared out his name oh Puff, the magic dragon lived by the sea And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Honahlee Puff, the magic dragon lived by the sea And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Honahlee A dragon lives forever but not so little boys Painted wings and giant rings make way for other toys One grey night it happened, Jackie Paper came no more And puff that mighty dragon, he ceased his fearless roar His head was bent in sorrow, green scales fell like rain Puff no longer went to play along the cherry lane Without his life-long friend, puff could not be brave So Puff that mighty dragon sadly slipped into his cave oh Puff, the magic dragon lived by the sea And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Honahlee Puff, the magic dragon lived by the sea And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Honahlee
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29
To expel intestinal gases through the **** The definition makes it sound kinda heinous. Whether you pass wind or pass gas, either way it comes out your *** Farts are loud and some silent but deadly, you can make it sound like a medley. Farts are cool and sometimes funny, lookout for ones that become runny. Some like to **** in your face, it may cause pink eye, and sting like mace. Farts can smell and usually bad, must be a duck, says your dad. I have farts that never stink, although some were on the brink. Dog farts will make you take cover, the smell lingers and starts to hover. Woman never **** but watch out when they do, it can be brutal, once their comfortable with you. If in certain places you must hold it in, farting in church is considered a sin. A good **** can make you feel good, its part of life and fully understood. Every **** deserves a smile or a giggle, don't forget to give your *** a shake or a wiggle. For ones who think farting is disgusting, I bet your ******* needs a good dusting.
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Sep 17, 2013
Sep 17, 2013 at 9:07 PM UTC
****
The first new star flashed waves of blue tonight , securing my belief in the afterlife A grove of ferns lit my imagination For I became a shipwrecked captain - that stumbled upon an island nation Exploring the deep jungle without machete , potable water nor compass Knee deep in mangrove forest Tropical winds whispered and moaned A lean-to of fronds became my maritime home In the presence of a million stars An army of sand ***** paraded before - their newfound master from near and afar Crashing waves lulled a poor sailor to rest The whispers of Poseidon A dream about a lookout in the crows nest Counting orbs in the tail of the Milky Way- with visions of mermaids , ghost ships and rogue waves
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Aug 1, 2018
Aug 1, 2018 at 9:05 PM UTC
Skipper for a Spell ....
In a sky, dense dark and grey, when predators lookout for their prey squirrels scatter every which way, leading the path for my stay. Drops of white pearls, tear down the pink petals glittering under the sparkling sun, with beauty ne’er outdone. Peeking through nature’s looking glass, lies a beautiful heart of yellow grass rests a reservoir of sweet gold, that inveigle the swarm untold. All the drizzle and haze that forged an irrational maze, ended with what may bring the spell of fragrant spring. Now bloomed the bud, in the mucky miry mud waiting to be plucked the florid Hibiscus.
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Jun 3, 2014
Jun 3, 2014 at 4:38 AM UTC
HIBISCUS
Here Now - Where? There -Far           near   -right of Berehaven.          Lookout!   everywhere. ... fast moving.   - on the right- followed       by      the left                           ________ A great many places Yet, not very many.   But always: Here Now - Where? THERE
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Dec 29, 2014
Dec 29, 2014 at 11:53 AM UTC
All Human Life
She had been at sea for three decades her first voyage at age eighteen a week after her marriage in the year of our Lord 1883 She married a sailing man captain of his own ship handsome, bearded and tall a fine commander of his men as they searched the sea for whales She loved life at sea and could imagine no other the motion of the ship the sounds of the rigging and the sails the quiet companionship with her husband every evening She was beloved by her husband’s men whom she mothered well having had no sons of her own but nurtured and healed patched and sewed bloodied and broken hearts and men Often she came out on deck for she knew when they would find them and though she was in the stern and the lookout was high in the crow's nest she saw many whales they missed She thrilled each time she saw them awed by their sheer size marveling at their strength humbled by their beauty careful to hide her feelings Sometimes she could feel when a whale would blow and she would call to the first mate so the men looked at her as the whale passed unseen Most times she silently prayed willing the lookout to search the wrong spot of ocean and felt again the pang of disloyalty to her husband for he commanded a whaling ship But then the lookout's call came "Thar she blows!" and the men sprang to action taking after the whale in longboats while she escaped below She had seen before the killing she would not watch again too many whales succumbed to exploding harpoons and a death horrifyingly cruel And she wondered what would happen if only whales could scream . . .
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Oct 23, 2015
Oct 23, 2015 at 6:49 AM UTC
The Whaling Captain's Wife
She had been at sea for three decades her first voyage at age eighteen a week after her marriage in the year of our Lord 1883 She married a sailing man captain of his own ship handsome, bearded and tall a fine commander of his men as they searched the sea for whales She loved life at sea and could imagine no other the motion of the ship the sounds of the rigging and the sails the quiet companionship with her husband every evening She was beloved by her husband’s men whom she mothered well having had no sons of her own but nurtured and healed patched and sewed bloodied and broken hearts and men Often she came out on deck for she knew when they would find them and though she was in the stern and the lookout was high in the crow's nest she saw many whales they missed She thrilled each time she saw them awed by their sheer size marveling at their strength humbled by their beauty careful to hide her feelings Sometimes she could feel when a whale would blow and she would call to the first mate so the men looked at her as the whale passed unseen Most times she silently prayed willing the lookout to search the wrong spot of ocean and felt again the pang of disloyalty to her husband for he commanded a whaling ship But then the lookout's call came "Thar she blows!" and the men sprang to action taking after the whale in longboats while she escaped below She had seen before the killing she would not watch again too many whales succumbed to exploding harpoons and a death horrifyingly cruel And she wondered what would happen if only whales could scream . . .
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55
*Let me tell you something. Something which may seem Difficult to digest Or counter-intuitive. Your enemies are your best friends. You must be wondering What the hell? But seriously your enemies are your best friends. No one helps you more than your enemies. They think of you better than anyone.   By being on lookout for Your slips and weaknesses, They always keep you focused- Always at your toes. They help your realize your true potential. They bring out the best of you. They never let you dawdle. They never deceive you Or blandish you. They reveal your loyalties. Above all Nothing beats the pleasure of Beating your enemies. Don’t all these make them your best friends?*
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Mar 28, 2015
Mar 28, 2015 at 3:39 AM UTC
Enemies
It is the end of times Sound of fate in the chimes Up rises the living dead Filling thoughts full of dread Creepily moving, ominous woe Sea of the departed, hobbling slow Gnarled teeth, eating flesh Craving blood warm and fresh Waves of corpses, a lifeless tsunami Lookout world, here comes the zombies!
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Mar 3, 2015
Mar 3, 2015 at 2:23 PM UTC
Zombie
I heard him at first, though barely a sound, But I saw him, I saw me, on sinister ground. *I am the caution and stillness and sniffing the air, I am the fearing the danger that’s not even there, I am the ‘watch where you tread’ and the silence and hush, The always on lookout, the hardest to touch. I am the quickness and briskness and swiftness and speed, I am the flash of a tail and a warning to heed, I am the bounding and leaping and steam in the woods, The danger apparent, the fear understood.* And I felt myself crying, for as soft as the breeze, My beautiful deer melted into the trees.
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Sep 20, 2015
Sep 20, 2015 at 4:16 AM UTC
The Stag
acacia "i know that, i know that what's mine will find me" (1) <> sigh... (forgive my intrusion) not necessarily- for too many, we have to invent, create and forever to be on the lookout for to find what we need, forgive and then, not begrudge the time it may take, finally then to make it ours, for that's when the work begins, sometimes it takes a forever to know how to define, create find, a forevermore <nml> exactly 5:00am Wed Sep 10 in the dark, dark sunroom
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Sep 10, 2025
Sep 10, 2025 at 4:05 PM UTC
For Acacia: For when the work begins
I launched her with my small remaining band and, putting out to sea, we set the main on that lone ship and said farewell to land. Far to starboard rose the coast of Spain, astern was Sardi, Islas at our bow, and soon we saw Morocco port abeam. Though I and comrades now were old and slow, we hauled till nightfall for the narrow sound where Hercules had shown what not to do, by setting marks for men to stay behind. At dawn the starboard lookout made Seville, and at the straits stood Ceuta t'other hand. 'Brothers,' I shouted, 'who have had the will to come through danger, and have reached the west! our time awake is brief from now until the senses die, and so I say we test the sun's own motion and do not forego the worlds beyond, unknown and peopleless. Think of the roots from which you sprang, and show that you are human: not unconscious brutes but made to follow virtue and to know.'
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3.6k
Ulysses' Last Voyage
There are bloggers and selfie-takers, Know the difference. There are noisemakers and peacemakers, I can show you the evidence. There are admirers and haters. Be especially mindful. There are well-wishers and supporters. Be very careful The are naysayers and yeasayers Always be aware.  There are brothers and brother's keeper, Always ready to take care. There are destroyers and fixers, Separate them. There are mixers and blenders, We need them. There are writers and publishers, They need each other. There are readers and proofreader. Both read for different reasons. There are bystanders and onlookers. Both will be watching. There are movers and shakers, One of them has the edge. There are dreams snatches and vision busters, Be on the lookout. There are ghost whisperers and Ghostbusters, Both have connection to a ghost. There are buyers and sellers, Each one benefits. There are singers and there are dancers. Everyone provides some entertainment. ©IvanBrooksPoetry 21/8/2018
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Aug 21, 2018
Aug 21, 2018 at 1:59 PM UTC
Adversal
Dig deep in the sand with a cupped shovel-hand Until you come across a healthy source of water. Scoop up what you see and let loose the soggy contents, Let them dribble through a careful filter fist. Slowly drip foundations and upon them start your fortress Using steady streams of trickled dribs and drabs. Stalagmites in hyperspeed form walls and lookout towers With the damp bricks one by one constructing peaks. Spectators of all sizes will collect and cast their gazes But you must keep up the focused droplet swell. Maiden battles can't be won and so the masterpiece will crumble To the tide that forces motes to overflow. Waves crash and reek their havoc on the castle that you managed To build with will and manky dripping palms. The sand on which it once stood will be flattened out and polished To make way for a palace twice as grand.
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Jun 3, 2015
Jun 3, 2015 at 5:45 PM UTC
Dribble Castle
Absolute bravery, considering dangerous explosives found goals. Helpless individuals juggled keeping lookout, many new operations, people questioning routes, suspects tortured, unsightly views. Wasted x-rays... young Zak.
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Feb 18, 2015
Feb 18, 2015 at 11:06 AM UTC
War (Alphabet poem)
I got a big power pole that extends to Kamis lookout Its so big and massive Dende dont doubt Got my ***** gathered underneath you know I do I know what you want to wish for so ill *** and give it to you You say yours is big, you are just a claimer My power pole so big It cant even be contained in the hyperbolic time chamber My power pole is such a galore Not even Hercule can save you anymore I know your curious ill make you come browsing Then when you find it your gonna be like ohshit ITS OVER 9000!!!!!!
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Jan 15, 2015
Jan 15, 2015 at 5:05 PM UTC
Dragon Ball Z Power Pole
I came upon a parade of Zinnias today..lined along the pave-way, wild and wily. An infinite variety of colorful heads popping up and out, like eyes of wary prairie dogs, on the lookout for action. Thought of you...the flower heads you gave me, filled with seeds aplenty to plant in the spring. Knew just where they would go. Imagined my hands in the welcoming earth, sowing them at just the right depth. They would grow, reaching with their long thin frames. Vigorously tall and full of summers brightness. Symmetrical flowers filled with attitude towards the sun. Flourishing in cracks along   sidewalks and driveways. Finding comfort and feeling free in the most limited of spaces. Yet...I did not plant them. Aware that I am not able, just now, to make such a commitment. To water and **** Ensuring that they would reach their full potential. A simple promise of one season. To nourish a delicate, perfect Zinnia. ~Christi Michaels~July 2015~ Copyright © 2015 Christi Michaels. All Rights Reserved.
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Aug 2, 2015
Aug 2, 2015 at 2:43 AM UTC
Zinnias
Tao nebula... I finally have some leave time.. Its been a long time since I have been here.. I fly on through and head for the pod lookout in my ship.. I already have my bed and lunch ready there.. I open the sun hatches and there it is.. Tao is a nebula that matches your thought waves and patterns.. As I look out the nebula creates my thoughts into pictures.. Its alot like watching your dreams on a screen played back to you.. The nebula paints my thoughts among the stars.. I dream while im awake.. Its so amazing and beautiful... Anything I think of is acting out before me.. The Tao nebula, where a dream is never far away..
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Nov 21, 2013
Nov 21, 2013 at 6:29 PM UTC
Tao Nebula
http://hellopoetry.com/stephanibaby/ ^^^^^^^ THIS PERSON REQUESTED MY PERSONAL EMAIL, THEN TRIED TO GET ME TO SEND MONEY TO AFRICA FOR THEM. BE ON THE LOOKOUT!! Sam ---
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Jan 15, 2015
Jan 15, 2015 at 10:08 AM UTC
weird event/scamming fishing request
I have never been employed or earned any money for the work I do. And yet I still have a job to do. For I am the door keeper, a guard, a lookout... a friend. My job is simple yet complicated, for I have many jobs rolled into one. I stand by the door and wait for people to approach me. Some talk to me, most people don't. Don't you know that I do my work for you? I don't get paid for my work, but I still think it's worth it to keep working. I am the door keeper. I stand by the weak, injured, and the broken with the strength I still have. When the people who I help finally regain their strength, they walk away from me, not even leaving a "thank you". I am the guard. When danger arrives at someone else's doorstep, I am there to see that they are not harmed, I will warn the of danger and guide them out of harms way. I am the lookout. Whenever you need me I will be there, I'll hold your hand and help in any way I can. I will always be here. I am your friend. I have always been here, but people don't see me anymore. I have become a ghost. I wonder what it takes to become alive again. But I can't just leave, whether or not people see me. I need to keep working. My job doesn't cost money, it costs lives. A treasure more valuable than money. I can't stop working. I am the door keeper watching for their smiling faces. I am the lookout for their lives, and the guard of their hearts. But most importantly a friend. A friend they might never see, but I'm still here. I can't leave just yet. Because I still have a job to do.
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Mar 20, 2017
Mar 20, 2017 at 10:40 PM UTC
Door Keeper
I have never been employed or earned any money for the work I do. And yet I still have a job to do. For I am the door keeper, a guard, a lookout... a friend. My job is simple yet complicated, for I have many jobs rolled into one. I stand by the door and wait for people to approach me. Some talk to me, most people don't. Don't you know that I do my work for you? I don't get paid for my work, but I still think it's worth it to keep working. I am the door keeper. I stand by the weak, injured, and the broken with the strength I still have. When the people who I help finally regain their strength, they walk away from me, not even leaving a "thank you". I am the guard. When danger arrives at someone else's doorstep, I am there to see that they are not harmed, I will warn the of danger and guide them out of harms way. I am the lookout. Whenever you need me I will be there, I'll hold your hand and help in any way I can. I will always be here. I am your friend. I have always been here, but people don't see me anymore. I have become a ghost. I wonder what it takes to become alive again. But I can't just leave, whether or not people see me. I need to keep working. My job doesn't cost money, it costs lives. A treasure more valuable than money. I can't stop working. I am the door keeper watching for their smiling faces. I am the lookout for their lives, and the guard of their hearts. But most importantly a friend. A friend they might never see, but I'm still here. I can't leave just yet. Because I still have a job to do.
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17
After Li Po While my hair was still cut straight across my forehead I played at the front gate, pulling flowers. You came by on bamboo stilts, playing horse, You walked about my seat, playing with blue plums. And we went on living in the village of Chokan: Two small people, without dislike or suspicion. At fourteen I married My Lord you. I never laughed, being bashful. Lowering my head, I looked at the wall. Called to, a thousand times, I never looked back. At fifteen I stopped scowling, I desired my dust to be mingled with yours Forever and forever and forever. Why should I climb the lookout? At sixteen you departed, You went into far Ku-to-en, by the river of swirling eddies, And you have been gone five months. The monkeys make sorrowful noise overhead. You dragged your feet when you went out, By the gate now, the moss is grown, the different mosses, Too deep to clear them away! The leaves fall early this autumn, in wind. The paired butterflies are already yellow with August Over the grass in the West garden; They hurt me. I grow older. If you are coming down through the narrows of the river Kiang, Please let me know beforehand, And I will come out to meet you As far as Cho-fu-sa.
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2.6k
The River-Merchant’s Wife: A Letter
lovers forgo their faces        defacing in the act mammering their information to unreadable smudges   they slur in kinetic fluctuation experimenting material forms fray      each    the others face is vented away      betray being human   no separated being and then...      to return in the tender moments following              a bumbling landfall then they are athletes      enamoured and praising of the other      flushed and radiating having rushed the life from their breath they heave in its return Later     in a **** trip down to the night kitchen they forgo they faces in a foxes forage hers ; over-lit by the fridge light           face thrown into a mask by extreme shaddows his ; beyond this light in the dark they are bodies sneak children the raider and the lookout after many years make the familiar relation her face disappears into a hand mirror and his is pulled out into a middle distance beyond the dresser durred in thought and waiting for 'go' to the restaurant tonite or that career social that neither wishes to attend                                         - fell shy of Eden
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Sep 11, 2022
Sep 11, 2022 at 8:48 PM UTC
f o r g o
Sign here and,here Authorized personnel only Exit… A sign of distress on his face The normal signs of distress? No. Signal the white flag high Suboxone and methadone Romney and Ryan The county fairgrounds… “Lookout for that fox!” DUI you cant afford it DUI CRACK you cant afford it Hand signals communicate UFO Conference? No SIGNS of UFO’s tonight “Where’s your sign?” What would my sign look like? Winding road, next 4 miles
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Jan 7, 2013
Jan 7, 2013 at 11:18 PM UTC
Post No Signs
No, no, I haven’t been doing this myself, but I live in Cambodia, and 2 guys and a girl were deported recently for riding around on a motorbike in the **** in broad daylight. Actually, you see, naively or deliberately, they rode right past a police station. Now that must have been a sight for sore eyes. So the police set out in hot pursuit, rubbing their sore eyes, or whatever they rub, maybe their truncheons, eh? And when the perps were pulled over, the cops didn’t fall about with hilarity when these riders said quite calmly that they were going to pick up their laundry. Truly! They were backpackers! As if that explained it. But publicly, the cops said nope, these perps are obscene to be seen like this and they violate Khmer customs and culture. The cops even took pictures of this outrageous obscenity. Indeed. The riders' rapture of being bare assed and naked and **** free is not for Cambodia. Certainly not at this juncture. So their capture resulted in them being deported, never to show hide nor hair in the country again. Just goes to show... But you can get away with ****** here, particularly shooting union leaders or critics or protestors, or you can throw a grenade into the opposition, and **** a few right there. Those killers go free. It's probably dangerous to speak openly, but I don't think these guys read poetry. They're probably busy oiling their artillery, and even rocket launchers, as the PM threatened to use against the opposition recently. Seriously. They're on the lookout for dissenters here. Oh yes. And bare ***** Obviously. So watch you **** in Cambodia, especially if it's bare on a bike. And ssshhh! Watch out for your mouth. You need to cover your mouth up properly, too. Mike T Minehan
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Jan 20, 2015
Jan 20, 2015 at 5:01 AM UTC
Riding in the ****
No, no, I haven’t been doing this myself, but I live in Cambodia, and 2 guys and a girl were deported recently for riding around on a motorbike in the **** in broad daylight. Actually, you see, naively or deliberately, they rode right past a police station. Now that must have been a sight for sore eyes. So the police set out in hot pursuit, rubbing their sore eyes, or whatever they rub, maybe their truncheons, eh? And when the perps were pulled over, the cops didn’t fall about with hilarity when these riders said quite calmly that they were going to pick up their laundry. Truly! They were backpackers! As if that explained it. But publicly, the cops said nope, these perps are obscene to be seen like this and they violate Khmer customs and culture. The cops even took pictures of this outrageous obscenity. Indeed. The riders' rapture of being bare assed and naked and **** free is not for Cambodia. Certainly not at this juncture. So their capture resulted in them being deported, never to show hide nor hair in the country again. Just goes to show... But you can get away with ****** here, particularly shooting union leaders or critics or protestors, or you can throw a grenade into the opposition, and **** a few right there. Those killers go free. It's probably dangerous to speak openly, but I don't think these guys read poetry. They're probably busy oiling their artillery, and even rocket launchers, as the PM threatened to use against the opposition recently. Seriously. They're on the lookout for dissenters here. Oh yes. And bare ***** Obviously. So watch you **** in Cambodia, especially if it's bare on a bike. And ssshhh! Watch out for your mouth. You need to cover your mouth up properly, too. Mike T Minehan
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43
Hmm is the next word to mmmm I have no feelings for drama Neither do I play soccer Have the heart like a lion It aims to poison I'm just running near the streams My heart is racing ,so it seems Like what is I was made to just stand Made to lop down in the sand I want just time to breathe But time only deceives My eyes are my lookout Do I got you going hmmmmm yet I bet ......
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May 29, 2014
May 29, 2014 at 11:40 AM UTC
Hmmmmm