Il n'est pas un secret que nous sommes rejets totaux pour un bon bouquet de la mariée .Grands.petits .nous les aimons tous et les motifs floraux de Marti est là pour briser la jolie .Elle partage sa recette robes demoiselles d honneur pour le faisceau ultime de fleurs et grâce à Lexi Vornberg Photographie vous pouvez voir les clichés ici .Pssst : les gagnants .les rappels et quelques réductions d'amusement sont juste un rouleau de suite.Week-end heureux!\u003cp\u003e

BOUQUET RECIPEAgonisStockAnemonesRanunculusItalian RuscusLisianthusUhle CurlsEucalyptusGarden Roses

Astuce: Toute fleur est belle en soi .Mettre un superbe anémone blanche sur la texture sombre de la Agonis bordeaux rend plus perceptible.Les verts donnent à ce bouquet l'aspect dramatique que faire de la pop .Beaucoup de fois la verdure a une mauvaise réputation .Insérer photo mentale de la feuille de cuir de l'épicerie avec des roses rouges et le souffle du bébé .Il est tout à l'application des fleurs et la façon dont ils sont placés ensemble .Un bon truc est de commencer avec chaque fleur individuelle et en les faisant tourner dans le placement jusqu'à ce que le bouquet est plein .De

les motifs floraux de Marti .Beaucoup de fleurs entrent dans la fabrication d'un bouquet de mariée.Chaque fleur est choisi pour une raison précise .Pour représenter une couleur .une texture .un style .Une fleur peut être pris et fait pour ressembler moderne .romantique .classique ou rustique .Tout est dans le regard que la jeune mariée tente de réaliser pour son mariage .Je suis un grand défenseur de la vente des jeunes mariées sur le style et pas une fleur particulière .Mère Nature ne donne jamais le même produit chaque semaine et chaque mariée n'est pas le même non plus!Toutes les fleurs en dehors frappent sur leur propre .mais quand vous voyez le produit tiré ensemble la dernière pièce est tout aussi magnifique .Je voulais apporter un regard derrière la fabrication d'un bouquet .

Apporter des talents particuliers de toute la nation fait ce possible avec un ruban de teint à la main et effiloché soie de Froufrou Chic .lettrage organique de Signora a Mare .et capturé par Lexi Vornberg Photographie Photographie

: . Lexi Vornberg Photographie | Calligraphie: madame E Mare | robes demoiselles d honneur Fleurs : les motifs floraux de Marti | ruban : FrouFrou Chic

cadeaux COURS500 1500

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Alexandra Grecco $ en certificat cadeau de Arcs -N- Cravates MariposaEnter Pin It To Win It concours
remises cette semaine .

Fattie PieAlexandra Grecco

Pour nos épouses Californie .Réductions de Evangeline Photographie .

Pour nos robe de soirée grande taille épouses Midwest .Participez pour gagner une séance d'engagement de soirée de Cristina G Photographie .

Pour nos épouses Nouvelle-Angleterre.Une offre spéciale de Hyatt Regency Cambridge .

et les gagnants .

Big Félicitations à la Bretagne .Krista .et Shannon pour gagner $ 250 de mariage de papier Divas .

Félicitations .félicitations à Katie qui a remporté une séance d'engagement de Julian Ribinik Photographie .

Enfin .félicitations aux gagnants multiples de l' échantillon d'impression sans lunatiques imprime !Les motifs floraux de Marti est un membre de notre Little Black Book .Découvrez comment les membres sont choisis en visitant notre page de FAQ .Floral Designs Marti voir le

Prometheus ignites to spark this
Molotov to make his Marxist
On swine Fuhrer's Faux News tweet
Hashtag it #GorbachevWallStreet
'Cuz Putin's puppet Pinochet's
Whipped Creme de Kremlin's CIA  
From JFK to Allende
Like Russian roulette ricochet
I'll Trotsky through McCarthy's brains
Leave slain these ****** sugar Keynes   
Discred' the Fed’s six-figureheads
With strikes at dawn more red than Debs  
Still breakin' breads with Mulan Bouges
Makin' men of Khmer Stooges
Seein’ Rouge when Al Spans Greens
Potemkin loan wolf ponzi schemes
Who count the sheep like Philippines
Then Black Pearl Harbor GRANMA’s dreams...

Of Marilyn Monroes in store
Just off-shore ****** who **** the poor
A Glass of Steagall's broken trust
Half emptier than bowls of dust
In rust beltways still spewin’ fumes
As factories become Khartoums
No carbon footprint tax the hint
Of Amazon decays in Flint
Just pop the caps and drown in debt
Like Kent State drinkin' to forget
That cuttin’ class engenders race
Leaves glory, gold and God's disgrace
To slaughter Moor than Reconquista  
From Marti to Sandinista     
With Zapata sharin’ crops  
Till my Mexica heartbeat stops

I'm Pancho infiltratin’ villas
The Magilla of guerillas
In the midst of Congolese  
Same colonies, just different thieves
To me, my breed’s of landless deeds
So how you like ‘dem Appleseeds?
FReeducatin’ caves of youth
Fed Citizen’s United Fruit
‘Cuz now my open eye of Horus
Battle cries Grito de Lares
Che is centered in these veins
So my Ashoka takes the reigns
These Iron paci-Fists pack hits
Like Jimi on some Malcolm ****
Still Hajj mirages I barrage
The Raj with sheer Cong camouflage

Deployin' Sepoys on viceroys
And pol desPots’ in the employs
Of Tweedledums who run the slums
With country clubs of loaded guns
These Betsy Deez bear arms to school
Till no kids fly kites in Kabul
So gas-mask your Sharia flaw
I'll Genghis Khan Sheikoun it raw  
'Cuz refugees are rising
And we're anti-socializing
Subsidizing private party plans
Who take commands from ***** hands
These grand old klans coup klux control
Your diamond minds with mines of coal
An oil Standardized existence
Solar powers my resistance

******* sun of Liberty  
My fear itself is history  
Rewriting wrongs of Leo’s creed
In culture’s blood and vulture’s greed
An alt-right/all-white cockpile   
Stockpilin' human capital
In tricklin’ contests over spoils
Of the cotton-ceded soils
Jingos chained to Cruci-fictions
Swallowin' good Christian dictions
I spit Spanish Inquisition
Trippin' Socrates sedition
Droppin' Oppen's fission quest
For "now I am become death"
'Cuz G-bay pigs in-Fidel's sites
Flew U-2's into my last rites

These Saddamites, I smite Assad
Then spread 'em like Islamabad
Convert for-profit prison tsars
From Escobars to Bolivars 
Like currency in Venezuela
Current police-state favela
Where 9/10th's of your possession's
Worth less than your Great Depression’s
Upscale bail ‘em outs of jail
With Dodd-Frank banks too big to fail
Your FDA-approved psychosis
From Campos’ daily dose of
More defense? Here’s my two cents
These slave wages ain’t excrements
So just say no to Reaganomics    
Got us hooked, but not on phonics

Just that Noriega strain
Of Contras stackin' crack contain
Like MAD dogs who trade weapons-grades  
For Ayatollah hate tirades
On “don’t ask, don’t tell” plague ebonics
Drug crusAID Jim Crow narcotics     
Warsaw rats injected, tested,
Quarantined, and then arrested
Guess the J. Arbenz' lens
Still Tet offends their ethnic cleanse
Still Wounding Knees of Standing Sioux
Till Crazy Horses stampede you   
For Mother Nature’s common ground
My Martin Luther’s gather ‘round
Is hellbound sounds of Nero’s crown  
Let's burn this Third World Reichstag down

Vox populyin’ to remove ‘ya
Like Lumumba then Nkrumah
So some Pumbaa kleptocrat
Declares himself the next Sadat
To hide supply-side Apartheid
Increase demand for genocide
So check your factions in Uganda  
Tune into Hotel Rwanda
Come play pirates with Somalis
Then desert ‘em like Benghazis
Thirst for blood so French Algiers  
It boils mine in Trails of Tears  
My destiny unManifest-
Oppressive Adam-Smitten West
So pay your overdues to Mao
I’ll Mussolini Chairman Dow

Then flood this 9th ward Watergate
With killing fields of glyphosate
I'll redistribute IMF’s
With leftist depth so deft it’s theft
I’ll My Lai massacre these lines
With sweet Satsuma samurhymes
I'll make these Madoff Hitlers squeal
With that Bastille New Deal cold steel
Now feel that Shining Pathos wrath
Drop Nagasaki aftermath
On Nanjing kings and dragon’s Diems
With ****** bodhisattva zens
To show you how I pledge allegiance
With razed flags still rapt in Jesus  
Laosy liars pogrom psalms
Can’t Uncle Phnom my Penh’s truth bombs

On heroes shootin' ******
My fix is un-American
Tiananmen democracies
To Syngman Rhee hypocrisies  
Theocracies drive me Hussein
With Bush league’s mass destruction claim
So I dig laissez pharaohs graves
With pyramids of Abu Ghraibs
Then nail their coffers closed like Vlad
I AM THE GHOST OF STALINGRAD
My hammer forged in winters past
My sickle reaps the shadows caste
By pantheons of penta-cons
Whose Exxons lead to autobahns
When liberal Arts of War and Peace in
Free speech teach my voice of treason

I cursed His name in vain
As my cousins had in the past
Exalting a new formation
Based upon the new caste
Our dividends made us dry
Allowing floodgates to open
The ephemeral pleasure of power
Giving us an unjustifiable position
As heads were laid in order
Our serpents knew their place
Beneath the Head Dominion
Shooting out more sons
In walls of Green Umber
A regal hypocrisy
Not to be admired
Nor taken for granted
Just for blue profit
In just, for the reason
The Lord told us to do it, upon thee
Leading us to oblivious matrimony
Sights and sounds drowned all out
As we made our double fantasy escape
Forever feeling the post-effects
Of our timely duality
In perpetuum
Donec oblivio

Kyun sham thaharti nahi tab tak,
K tu aa na jaye kareeb jab tak,
Kyu raat dhalti nahi tab tak,
K tu meri ** na jaye jab tak,
Ab to bina wajah hi kai baar dil dhadakta hai,
Lekin kyun saanse meri rukti nahi tab tak,
K tujhe khud me mahsoos na kar loo jab tak.....
k banjar hua ja raha  hu mai bina tere,
ku akhiri ehsaas tootne se ruk jata nahi tab tak,
k akhiri armaan poora mera hi na jaye jab tak,
kyu jindagi me tofaan koi aata rahta hai,
kyu baki nahi rah jaati jan mujh me tab tak,
k tu har pal mujhme na simat jaye jab tak......
bojhil mera dil ku thak jata hai,
rota hai,
ghabrata hai,
aansoo bahata hai,
kyu jindagi thokar mujhe marti nahi tab tak,
k koi mera mujhko samet le aoni bahon me jab tak,
bekhabar bejubaan dil mera ku dard bayan karta nahi  tab tak,
k koi aayat khuda ki tujhse roobaru hoti nahi jab tak.......
kyu gair koi mujhe dard de jata hai,
kyun mere liye khuda sab bhool jata hai,
kyu har kisi k rooth jane par tu pyar mujhe karta nahi tab tak,
k aankhen band ** jaye meri par ehsaaas tera mujhme rah jaye jab tak,
k saanse agar na bhi chale,
par jikr tera chala rah jaye jab tak........

Tum bhi na bhoologe,
Kabhi mai bhi na bhooloonga,
Kabhi tum yaad aaoge,
Kabhi mai tumko yaad aaunga,
Jindagi yun hi gujar jayegi,
Shayad intjaar ji karta rah jaunga,
Pyar mai umse karta hu,
Tum bhi to mujhpe marti **,
Kabhi tum lautkar aana,
Tumhe har pal mai chahunga,
Kabhi khamosh hota hu,
Kabhi tum chup rahti **,
Bina tere mera ye dil har pal rota hai,
Ab intjaar nahi hota,
Kabhi to paas aa jao,
Pyar kar lo tum mujhse,
Mai bhi khud ko bhula doonga,
Tumhe har pal mai chahunga,
Tumhe har pal mai chahunga,
Bina tere kabhi khud ko khush na rakh paunga,
Jab teri yaad aati hai,
Aanso bahne lagte hai,
Aankhen dukhne lagti hai,
Saanse rukne lagti hai,
Dil me toofan uthta hai,
Khud ko mai khine lagta hu,
Kabhi to paas aa jao,
Mera kya haal hai dekho,
Tumhare bina shayad ab aur na rah paunga,
Tumhe mai pyar karta hu,
Tumhe mai har pal chahunga....
I love u

Havana, I arrive
in the sweaty thickness of July
caliente y picante
steamy sidewalks, steamy women
chocolate brown, tan and
black against the lemon-yellow walls
strolling through La Plaza de Armas
slurping thick café through weathered lips
in La Plaza de Francisco de Asis
dancing on the pregnant gray stones in La Plaza Vieja
timba, rumba, salsa and son
Cristo, Maria, Yemaya and Obatalá

Havana, I arrive
in the intoxication of your breath
between the acrid fumes
of insecticides and 1957 Chevy's
stepping past the dark grime of your slums
streets plush with tight round bodies
beautiful and sensuously swaying

I arrive snaking past the converted palaces
con las turistas ricos
and the buy-me-a-dress-and-a-ring ******
with their enchanting full-tooth smiles
and undulating earthquake-tremor hips
I hear your beat
the machine-gun laughter of your feet
on the hot cobblestones
with the jinateros and street musicians
chants of Santería drifting from pane-less windows
 
Havana, I smell your heat
under salty faded sheets
smell the long, tobacco-stained nights
with your hips swaying
to the pale drops of ***
spilt from red lips
and the red drops of blood
spilt from your revolutionaries
spilt from the gorging of Machado and Baptista
and 500 years of foreign dominion

In Paseo de Marti
banners of Che Guevara
flapping in the moist tear-laden breeze
Fidel, cigar in hand
tirelessly raging in black and white
on a Russian 1960's TV

Cuba, I can see the green in your eyes
the peeling-paint bedroom dreams and
dirt-poor joy of your richness
laughing out the despair and desperation
dancing out the oppression and the paucity
the aching of your past
the battles of Castillo De Los Tres Santos
of  the revolution
of living
and as I stand on the steps of El Capitolio
looking out at the decaying grandeur
I understand why
I will be back

Cultivo una rosa blanca en junio como en enero para el amigo sincero que me da su mano franca.. y para el cruel que me aranca el corazon cardos ni ortigas, cultivo una rosa blanca

jose marti

To be a better devil
Good son, to a best son, on the road son
The “pariah” of simplicity we sell son
Half off decently to a width in dimension to a coped, a lost, but not wished for.
Gone son, to be a better devil.
To be a softer more pliable horned helix on a dirt road son.
The sin of the mix drink son
On the onset of the Onsen to do re me sun sit something soft and sold some.
Story taketh mo and fo froyo fo shizz in the mizz of apathetic misery…son.
Battle me you cap in ten in a twist of less miss the le mis ripple off a tin can hand soaping fire hydrants exploding. Steeling and showing with body armor, but a row of ropes I could drive up and off of more than you could ever know.
To be a better devil takes the shoulder cold.
Knees of the apple make a boulder fold.
Find it.
Not a casket but a mothers hold-ing
Bit placard Bacardi but like Doc brown, we all be saying MARTI MARTI MARTI!
MY safety felt like an option, when for when we all could be better devils.
Horns to the ***** and halves to the best of introspections of identity.
You both left me at but a mere age of seven along a highway of sovereignty
Simple soothing sovereign ****** simply
In it intuitive if I imply “to my own death do I abide” and these rulers ****** out the joy and love and life from such a wealthy golden child.
I will never again let you see me smile. It's the choice and an anvil of steel and grate but no fires to we make a claim to stake.
I wanted to be loved.
I wanted to be held and told I was worth it.
Because I was.
I am.
I want to be loved without exception, but exception they have always made.
1. I love you but I love ***** more
2. I love you but you aren’t worth the time or energy or effort
3. I love you but my parents don’t approve
4. I love you but I can’t handle my depression
5. I love you but I’m gay
It was here I drew a perfect line, a post-it note I will carry as no one will ever marry me.
To be a perfect devil.
To be a perfect devil…
…To be a perfect devil…

Tu nombre es como el crisol
donde se funde la hazaña
tu nombre es como la caña
que endulza con lluvia y sol
de su destino naciente
sólo tu pueblo es el dueño
cual figuraban en tus sueño
por fin es libre tu gente

josé marti pregonero
no moriste en tu pregón
tus versos viven y son
pregones de un pueblo entero

tu isla exporta el verano
y hay flambollán y justicia
la buena tierra nutricia
da frutos para el cubano
tu nombre es como el crisol
donde se funde la hazaña
tu nombre es como la caña
que endulza con lluvia y sol
tan sobrio y tan desbordante
tan bueno y tan orgulloso
tan firme y tan generoso
tan pequeño y tan gigante

tan profundamente isleño
tan claramente cubano
tan latinoamericano
en tu suelo y en tu sueño

siempre nos tienes despierto
con tu constante mirada
con tu suerte despejada
y con tu fe de ojos abiertos

tu nombre es como el crisol
donde se funde la hazaña
tu nombre es como la caña
que endulza con lluvia y sol.

Pelytė Zita nukurmėjo po šluota
Mano meilė sūriui saugi
Nom nom
Aš ir vėl likau vieniša marti

Been making a statement
Since chalk on the pavement
Erasing complacent
Content in my basement
Been searching for famous
Since pen hit the paper
A COINTELPRO
Expose’ prose’n muckraker
No stake in your stockholder
Meeting this evening
Just cuttin’ deals laced with
A little left-leaning
Obscene acts of terror
Each letter a crime
A defacement of privatized
Property swine
Dispossessed but of rhyme
Like the spirit of Marti
Till I’m callin’ party boss
Shots of Bacardi

Like a father needs a son
A son needs a mother
If we part can you tell me
How are you my son?
Standing on the Marti Gras parade
Do you love us and live in the trees without us
Come down and be with our folks
The trees will live
The sun will come
Soon, the prodigal son will return
The evening will pass and your mother awaits your return
The sky will fold into a cloud
All things shall come to pass
All you need are the wings to fly
Let the skies unfurl your glorious heart
My phoenix haired boy in red toga
Standing on the sea shells and floating in the evil breeze
Singing the blues with the flapping waters