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"marrage" poems
I was told just a bit ago that the woman i love with all my heart said she thinks she loves me and wants to be my wife and wants to start a family with me. she wants to stay single to get her mind clear and i will respect that because i could never imagine my life with anyone else but her. shes the first thing on my mind when i wake she never out of my thoughts ever shes always in my dreams and shes in my nightmares where i loose her and never get her back and then i die alone because if i dont have her i want noone then i wake up and its all a bad dream. all i ever want is her in my life forever. i know in the past i messed up bad but noones perfect and if i ever do get her back and we do work things out i will prove to her that i was the young guy who made mistakes and from them i have become the man who learned the hard way and am willing to do any and everything to prove to her ive changed and will be the man i should have been to her before. (To her) if you ever read this and you will i want you to know i love you and want to be the man i should have been the year we were together and if you can ever find it in your beautiful heart to forgive me for being a blind fool i do love you i do want you to be my wife and i do want you to be the beautiful wonderfull one of a kind mother of our hope to be children. i really do love you. you are my soul mate, my other half, my peace, my one of a kind, beautiful, **** georgious gift that i so blindly pushed away. please forgive me and hopefully one day i will get down on one knee in a crowded place and and when i ask for your hand in marrage you will say yes and when that day comes i will hold you and never ever ever let you go or repeat my mistakes or make new ones.
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Mar 9, 2014
Mar 9, 2014 at 1:59 AM UTC
does she love me?
I was told just a bit ago that the woman i love with all my heart said she thinks she loves me and wants to be my wife and wants to start a family with me. she wants to stay single to get her mind clear and i will respect that because i could never imagine my life with anyone else but her. shes the first thing on my mind when i wake she never out of my thoughts ever shes always in my dreams and shes in my nightmares where i loose her and never get her back and then i die alone because if i dont have her i want noone then i wake up and its all a bad dream. all i ever want is her in my life forever. i know in the past i messed up bad but noones perfect and if i ever do get her back and we do work things out i will prove to her that i was the young guy who made mistakes and from them i have become the man who learned the hard way and am willing to do any and everything to prove to her ive changed and will be the man i should have been to her before. (To her) if you ever read this and you will i want you to know i love you and want to be the man i should have been the year we were together and if you can ever find it in your beautiful heart to forgive me for being a blind fool i do love you i do want you to be my wife and i do want you to be the beautiful wonderfull one of a kind mother of our hope to be children. i really do love you. you are my soul mate, my other half, my peace, my one of a kind, beautiful, **** georgious gift that i so blindly pushed away. please forgive me and hopefully one day i will get down on one knee in a crowded place and and when i ask for your hand in marrage you will say yes and when that day comes i will hold you and never ever ever let you go or repeat my mistakes or make new ones.
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1
He sat with Michaelanglo a stirring butress, a rife old glutton. Seething, the temple may be doomed. And Jude, 'rich' as HELL,   beaming of priesthood.  Cursed him with mired lucher, saying... 'When do you think our work will be done?" The stars that shine about the church over our heads are beauty, in the Cistene Chapel are the same stars that line the apothecary of our souls. How then do we touch a theist? With brooms over our feet, with chicken bones to old to feed to dogs, with lyes that burn the soul. Tremulous attrition, and godless neoteny. All munitions to the decks.  For Jude, the job is never finished.   And to a deity, man is completeness. And the poet says to the unbelieved, 'Why so true?'   "No one will believe in God,...      if no one is in this Church." The Sandbergs, the Blakes, the Jaynes's. Here we have felt poetry, awakened to poetry, and loved every minute of the poet.   What record could democracy create by Judas?  When does the account of men try femine reason? 'Ill tell You',.. says Mr. Sandberg, 'Ill tell You!,...that naught one of us can forgive a great poet.' And Jude, replied,... "Whom then can I believe?" Carl Sandberg leaned way back and answered,   'You can believe the Truth; she is warm to the touch and cold for the feature of treason.'   "Carl why then do we argue in 3rd person?" says Jude. Repling again, the Cistene Chapel is open for marrage, the ceiling is finished because no one can account for all of the stars, but who has to pray with us for forgiveness.   My hands prean lust for wisdom with a pen, my hands pluck keyboards as do Aeolian Flutes.  My heart is a broken sorrow and my life is just a poet. Carl has answered a question, Jude has lies to tell, and a man will finish painting the chapel with the sound of Liberty bells.
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Jun 6, 2014
Jun 6, 2014 at 8:31 PM UTC
Carl and Jude
He sat with Michaelanglo a stirring butress, a rife old glutton. Seething, the temple may be doomed. And Jude, 'rich' as HELL,   beaming of priesthood.  Cursed him with mired lucher, saying... 'When do you think our work will be done?" The stars that shine about the church over our heads are beauty, in the Cistene Chapel are the same stars that line the apothecary of our souls. How then do we touch a theist? With brooms over our feet, with chicken bones to old to feed to dogs, with lyes that burn the soul. Tremulous attrition, and godless neoteny. All munitions to the decks.  For Jude, the job is never finished.   And to a deity, man is completeness. And the poet says to the unbelieved, 'Why so true?'   "No one will believe in God,...      if no one is in this Church." The Sandbergs, the Blakes, the Jaynes's. Here we have felt poetry, awakened to poetry, and loved every minute of the poet.   What record could democracy create by Judas?  When does the account of men try femine reason? 'Ill tell You',.. says Mr. Sandberg, 'Ill tell You!,...that naught one of us can forgive a great poet.' And Jude, replied,... "Whom then can I believe?" Carl Sandberg leaned way back and answered,   'You can believe the Truth; she is warm to the touch and cold for the feature of treason.'   "Carl why then do we argue in 3rd person?" says Jude. Repling again, the Cistene Chapel is open for marrage, the ceiling is finished because no one can account for all of the stars, but who has to pray with us for forgiveness.   My hands prean lust for wisdom with a pen, my hands pluck keyboards as do Aeolian Flutes.  My heart is a broken sorrow and my life is just a poet. Carl has answered a question, Jude has lies to tell, and a man will finish painting the chapel with the sound of Liberty bells.
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51
Never did i know she would come on to me. A married woman and married man how could this be. It started out as a kind gester to take her out never did i know it was I and not her husband she was thinging about She threw herself at me not thinking with my mind but with my **** to me it was ****** up but to her it was all a game just a trick to get me trapped. My marrage going up in flames but my wife doesnt want to leave me unlike this crazy woman who see's herself replacing my wife like im her gains She told me if i cant have you no one will. Not wanting or ready yo leave my faithful wife the crazy one caught onto the deal. Dime me out and tell the public hit me with adultry these days are dwendling down my times coming to a end quick. What am I to do now take my life nah thats too serous not even something to think about. She wants to end my life end my career she is txting me now it her or me choose wisely and not out of fear.
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Apr 3, 2017
Apr 3, 2017 at 2:11 PM UTC
The Set Up
I feel an emotion one i dont feel often Most of the time wishing i was in a coffin But the feeling has finally soften Looking around the room What if your my groom Marrage is a my wish Something i want to acomplish But with who? My result is overdue Looking and waiting Drawing writing and painting All things i do to pass time While i just wait in this line Secretly i want it to be arranged Most people think its strange But judgement plays a big role My legs take the toll I have no say I live happy until this day The day i have to choose The one i hope to never loose Stay by my side Lay with me by the tide Your cowboy **** Makes me got nuts But is it you i choose What about your friend with the tattoos? We all have diffferent veiws My husband i shall choose I like him with the bruise Tall and handsome And looks fairly wholesom Marry me I plea And we will live happily
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Feb 12, 2014
Feb 12, 2014 at 5:23 AM UTC
happily
All of the fancy they could every love. As let as love as nothing yet. No secret kept. No dream to service as a bet. No cold dream to forget. They have desired to regret. Love, as nothing as everything untold. No rythm to listen to of an old drum. Just drunken spirits without the ***   Oh, these morbid and fickle les zen lei' bold. They speak to french kiss the dead undead reading the poetry of our life in dote. They do not know why New Orleans sells spicy sea food. Oh, the marrage proposal. To many lovers no children to hold. The children leave as Luke's dreams of sky walking to freedom lands. They chide the child and know no REN.   Chide ren, as do children know parenthesis. Due trust is to hold the option of freedom. The job 40 years, demented posthumously. The award of state hood for mental posterity.   Just chill and watch the sunset. I just wrote the "The better is left unsaid." Ode to the frenchless kiss, I... will... knot... lie... for the benefit.
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May 15, 2014
May 15, 2014 at 8:41 PM UTC
Untitled
Dear reader have you ever wondered where the bogey man lives ? In the hall Under the bed In your head ? Well when I was small  , a sleeper train , to Scotland in the cupboard  as I lay awake that night , through rattle and hum , clunkerty clack of that rail road track . The over night sleeper to Scotland Then from the cover of a paper back book  , Came Paper face . Have you ever wondered of Mr Barney ? Who when rent was due would call on you , and in return ask for your daughters hand in Marrage ? To the little pigs he would go , With a huff and a puff , eat pork for tea. beside you Or the toy maker , If half an our late would make you stay late , and doc your pay for talking . Or little bow peep who lost her sheep , Only to marry Tom Thumb only when her good friends had found them . Now the bogey man rings and rings in my little toy town , and when I pick it up goes zzzzzzz. Just a few questions today , I am sure we can help you ? We're PpI We're a computer glitch . a style in your eye , we have many questions to ask you . Then the Raven master who clipped the wings , so his birds could never leave the tower , So the Kingdom won't. Fall , God save us all , the day a Raven flys by and the toy castle walls are broken , For Tom and Bow to fairy land must go , and leave this crazy world behind them .
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May 21, 2017
May 21, 2017 at 1:08 PM UTC
The Raven Master