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"lowed" poems
Wal, Thanksgivin’ do be comin’ round. With the price of turkeys on the bound, And coal, by gum! Thet were just found, Is surely gettin’ cheaper. The winds will soon begin to howl, And winter, in its yearly growl, Across the medders begin to prowl, And Jack Frost gettin’ deeper. By shucks! It seems to me, That you I orter be Thankful, that our Ted could see A way to operate it. I sez to Mandy, sure, sez I, I’ll bet thet air patch o’ rye Thet he’ll squash ’em by-and-by, And he did, by cricket! No use talkin’, he’s the man— One of the best thet ever ran, Fer didn’t I turn Republican One o’ the fust? I ‘lowed as how he’d beat the rest, But old Si Perkins, he hemmed and guessed, And sed as how it wuzn’t best To meddle with the trust.
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Ezra On The Strike
We rave, and hailed, all hail the King A lord who’s lowed, n’ yet, supreme The savior of wars and of many greed To govern and yield the land of the free For tis clear he knows how we became A root, and a leaf; let’s all hail the king! This is Liberia! A chest to aggress with hunger n’ thirst That fruitfully enjoy climbing the rates And faintly encourage pointing the worst To soak n’ appraise the young's of the freed Whose lost in the land of which they came A branch, and a leaf; a transparent cry! This is Liberia! We rave, and hailed, we want the king A man who’s loved, n’ yet, disesteem The sculptor of deeds, and of many glee To seize n’ dictate the land of undeveloped For tis loud his assets are well developed A leaf, and a root; let’s all boo the king! This is Liberia! A quest to possess the likeness of Christ That truthfully enjoy the gees of versed And skillfully encourage the act of digress To juiced and yield off the land of the free Fo tis clear he don’t know how we became A leaf, and a branch; a transcendent lie! This is Liberia! Inspired by: Falz song- “This is Nigeria” Childish Gambino Song- “This is America” “I can do all things through Christ who strengthen me”
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Sep 12, 2018
Sep 12, 2018 at 6:54 AM UTC
Liberia: a transcendent lie
In the forest of my mind, Few words are ever spoken Sounds are lost in the distances, Thought become so broken Shadows casting daydreams, Which my darkness cannot release Singularity in Sunshine of a future outcome yet to cease Finding only stillness in balance of the off centered night Wondering whether my body, Or my soul, Will catch flight Soaring above the emotions ebbs, Of imaginary flows Trying to avoid absolutes, Inside tumultuous lowed But perfection is elusive, Like a sun that sets in the east Never change to something, That does not call to your inner beast
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Jan 9, 2014
Jan 9, 2014 at 10:45 AM UTC
Feast the crows
They said Frank was lying in his field, While the milk cows lowed, The hungry sows squealed. The midday sun and absorbent dew Aroused the bachelor close to noon. They said Frank was lying in a ditch, His bike was bent, he'd need a stitch, But there he lay in the early morning, The lorries roared by, Frank moaned and snored.. They said Frank was lying in a bed, When two p.m. was still too soon. He has missing teeth and window panes, Lay on a mattress of mortal stains. His papered walls like sun-burnt skin, Peeling away and blistering. His blankets are like stable covers, Shared his thunder mug with his mother. Starlings nest inside his house, Blow flies light where his mother lies.
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Dec 14, 2017
Dec 14, 2017 at 9:40 AM UTC
Frank Was Lying
She did not know what was going on She was confused about the path she would take Did she have to make the decision alone? She has heard that she didn't but where was that other decision-maker She gave everything she had and expected nothing and gained nothing She did not know what was going on Was she really falling in love or just desperate Had she really been so blind was she finally seeing clearly Had she really just lowed herself for an illusion She did not know what was going on How could she not realize the is so young, so ignorant to love She had so much ahead of her and many more problems She did not know what was going on Yet that was no excuse to put on the platter Yet she had much better things to do A guy was no match for the worries in her mind She had a mother brothers fathers* and yet her mind, was only on him She did not know what was going on yet she did she knew why she cared so much she knew why she was so attached to something so pathetic It was not love, or desperation, or even lust it was fear She did not know what was going on She was afraid that she would never really understand love She was afraid that she would never be loved she was afraid that she would end up alone So she fell for the trick of love She fell for a fantasy She pretended she had to make a decision all by herself when she always knew that God was the answer...
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Jan 20, 2016
Jan 20, 2016 at 10:58 PM UTC
Short fantasy
the silence in your voice is like a storm in the cold. when it thunders the sky renders a fidgeted cloud wanting  to rowd away to a bout. it moves random looking to stardom wishing the rain would fall. and when it does the calm traps any remaining  of the stabs the weather had dabbed. the return of the sound a musical found is perfect to  accompany the mind. when you open up and say it is proud all the things you 'lowed.
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Nov 9, 2013
Nov 9, 2013 at 11:38 AM UTC
unsilence
was part man part sky the sky had fallen chunks as large as cars and red and black pain ate at the voice, the chords that made sound all fell flat and silent the fall was stopped by ground startled eyes open to look around and dark- ness swal- lowed me like the ocean does to the drowned your hands held me and rolled me over to see if breath was still in me, and with it said your name and the chill that overcame me was from the cold side of the pillow eyes opened on my, half empty bed
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Mar 16, 2015
Mar 16, 2015 at 1:10 AM UTC
In the end we will all dream
The farm girl sat on the window sill, Overlooking the hill, Looked at the sunset, a tangerine glow, Beautiful,she wanted to draw, But, mummy said,"Time to sleep." "Bleat,bleat, bleated the sheep, In the stable the horses neighed Grandpa sighed, The cows in the barn mooed, The oxen lowed, Little one,time to go to bed, Sweet dreams for you lie ahead, Goodbye most beloved, good night, Sleep tight, And on the farm all was quiet.
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Dec 11, 2018
Dec 11, 2018 at 1:45 PM UTC
Good night
I rose before the sun wore it's mask I sat at the edge of the world Contemplating the task beforehand The fury of winter has gone into annual slumber While the lady of the desert awakens for her summer I removed my shadow Who kept me company throughout the night I lowed my pen for the first time As the flowers began to bloom and write No longer should I find Comfort in the endless night The sun has risen and forever shall stay up Now time to roam with curiosity and an empty cup
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May 2, 2018
May 2, 2018 at 7:15 AM UTC
Spring