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tangshunzi Jun 2014
Questo matrimonio balla la linea tra giardino e rustico ;prendendo la bellezza naturale di una cerimonia all'aperto e abbinamento con la bellezza industriale del Sodo Park.dove da pranzo in stile familiare regna regina .E piegato in graziosi dettagli è abiti da sposa on line l' abilità di progettazione di McKenzie Powell .belle immagini da Bryce Covey fotografia e un video di nozze da Super Frog Salva Tokyo che è andato virale per una buona ragione .Date un'occhiata qui ancora di più.

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Da Sposa .Così molti dei nostri amici e parenti viaggiato incredibilmente lontano per essere al nostro matrimonio a Seattle .quindi abbiamo davvero voluto tutto il giorno .non solo per essere una festa.ma sento come una grande cena di famiglia in stile .Abbiamo tirato un sacco di ispirazione dai terrosi .cene comunitarie avevamo sempre adulato in Kinfolk .così abbiamo messo l'accento su avere lunghi tavoli comuni fattoria .una tavolozza di colori neutri / caldi .e un sacco di verde e di fiori .Abbiamo anche un colpo con un bellissimo spazio di accoglienza con soffitti alti e travi a vista che non richiedono alcun fluff supplementare .

E 'stato sorprendente vedere i pezzi si uniscono il giorno - di .ma onestamente .i nostri amici e parenti hanno giocato il ruolo più importante nel rendere tutto il giorno al di là di quello che mai avremmo immaginato .Abbiamo avuto così tanto coinvolgimento da parte di tutti - dai progetti bricolage e materiale stampato .ad avere un caro amico ci sposare .e tutta la mia famiglia che canta presso la nostra reception Von Trapp - style - ognuno ha lasciato la propria impronta sulla nostra giornata .( mio cugino èun panettiere ed effettivamente volato nostra torta tutta la strada da Toronto !) che ha reso incredibilmente memorabile per noi .La ciliegina sulla torta doveva essere la festa da ballo che seguì .Abbiamo avuto un incredibile equipaggio di amici e parenti per festeggiare con abiti da sposa on line .nessuno escluso .e venditori di eccezionale talento che ci ha aiutato a tirare fuori tutto il giorno !

nostro slow motion stand era il sottoprodotto di tasking una agenzia creativa per fare un video di nozze .SFST non sono video di nozze .ma mio marito .Quang .è un maestro nel convincere le persone a fare cose che normalmente non farei mai .( E probabilmente aiutato il fatto che egli è un co -proprietario di SFST . )

L' idea per la cabina è nata dopo aver realizzato un paio di cose : Ci sarebbe voluto molto tempo per loro di modificare il video completo di nozze .ma ancora più importante .abbiamo voluto provare e sfruttare alcune delle cose che SFST è in realtàbravo a - come fare le cose belle vanno virale.In verità.era quasi un dopo pensiero .Dalla realizzazione di idea era forse dieci secondi.

hanno suggerito di mettere una telecamera RED in una sezione della sala ricevimento e sparare tutto ad un frame rate elevato .Ma il successo del video è nel modo in cui è stato eseguito.e gli amici e la famiglia che hanno partecipato .L' uomo dietro la macchina da presa .Blaine Lundy .ha avuto la personalità perfetta per indirizzare la gente e ha fatto un lavoro incredibile modifica del pezzo .Anche i più timidi ospiti sono stati persuaso a taglio sciolto davanti alla telecamera .Re-



guardare il filmato per la prima volta .e vedere tutte le imbrogli che sono andati durante il nostro ricevimento è stato un momento davvero divertente sia per noi
Fotografia : Bryce Covey Fotografia | Videografia : . Super Frog Salva Tokyo | Event Design :Mckenzie Powell | Floral Design : McKenzie Powell Designs | Gown : Jenny Packham | Cake: The Cocoa Cakery | Cerimonia Luogo : Greg Giardino presso l'Università di Washington | Banco Luogo : Sodo Parco By Herban Festa | Bridesmaids Dresses : Amsale | Catering : Herban Festa |Calligrafia : Esque Script | Giorno di coordinamento: Get Stuff Done Group | Dress Boutique : La Teoria Dress | Trucco E Capelli : Erin Skipley | Photo Booth : Usnaps | Supporto Stampato : Katrina Mendoza | Veil : Sara GabrielAmsale e Sara Gabriel sono membri della nostra Look Book .Per ulteriori informazioni su come vengono scelti i membri .fare clic qui .McKenzie Powell Floral \u0026 Event Design e Bryce Covey Fotografia sono membri del nostro Little Black Book .Scopri come i membri sono scelti visitando la nostra pagina delle FAQ .McKenzie Powell Floral \u0026 Event ... vedi portfolio Bryce Covey Fotografia VIEW abiti cerimonia on line
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Rustico Sodo Parco di nozze e un divertimento Rallenti Film_vestiti da cerimonia
Dave Hardin Oct 2016
Father Mckenzie  

Turk’s Head teased my shadow
free last evening along the arroyo

our separation minute yet
edging toward the clement lip

accruing like the thunder eggs
I keep in a jar by the door

God long since departed, drifted
away on the high desert wind

that drew us here long ago
rifled pages of the Book Of Common Prayer.

A sodden breeze from home last night
a tang of salt, a churchyard hush

low plaint of cello’s lurking around
these adobe walls for a way inside

my callow words returned to claim
their hollow sound and mouth

all that was left unsaid
an old man darning socks

in the night when nobody’s there
crossing the room to leave

the door ajar to old sermons
bible black sky pierced with diamonds.
Johnny Zhivago Jun 2013
mr moonlight
mr nowhere
maxwell edison
mr jones

dr robert
sgt pepper
mr kite, bb king
edgar allen poe

walter raleigh
mat busby
the hendersons
and maggie mae

mr mustard
captain marvel
rita lucy jojo
vera chuck and dave

mother nature
polethene pam
mr heath doris day
and buffalo bill

loretta martin
**** sadie
hey jude eggman
my michelle

rigby            and pilchard
or elenor      and semolina
took father  mckenzie
too see a dancing horse

henry       his name was
rocky       raccoon was there
prudence rode elephant
to the i me mine waltz
---
There gonna crucify me
the way things go
christ it aint easy
the next day dont know

you know the walrus was paul man
johns bird can sing
george was a genie
ringo wore a ring

but paul is dead now
george stole his soul
john is alive though
ringos in a hole

her royal highness the tax man
commit the perfect crime
she asked for more
with a belly full of wine
Today at school it was just announced that you decided to die
You turned your back to the world, all we could do was cry
Counselor's lined up in the halls to help us with our grieving
It doesn't matter though because we all just want you breathing
The world is darker with out you here for you were the sun
The smile on your face would heal the pain of almost everyone
Everyone except you dear which no one understood
Your death which is the reason we left school today
Not a soul stood in the halls of our school hallway
Mckenzie love, you will be missed I'm not sure how we'll survive
But one day we once again will be able to see you thrive
- FlyHighKenzie
Cam Zelen May 2014
An angel has been gained,
yet there has been so much blood stained.

In these families' lives,
the men can little as comfort their wives.

They will weep and fill with sorrow,
pray that there will be a better tomorrow.

The cruel truth of reality is true,
and for a while their eyes will only know blue.

Younger then 85 is a terrible way to die,
their loved ones can do nothing but ask God "why"?

Yet perhaps God knows this,
as the families stare out into the vacant abyss.

They may find peace with prayer,
tell them that God is there.

There is a reason for what has been done,
do not worry, you will see your son.

McKenzie and Brogan are in a better place,
do not let their time on Earth be a waste.

Think of the good times and memories made,
do not let the incident put those in the shade.

They will be looking down from noon to noon,
saying to their families, "I promise I will see you soon".
anastasiad Jan 2017
Sciatica pain home remedy work outs doesn't have to be specially difficult to be handy. Typically, they are often carried out efficiently both at home and can frequently decrease or take away the desire for qualified care. No matter if made use of alone maybe in addition for expert varieties of care, basic sciatic nerve sensation problems soreness physical exercises along with self-care strategies may result in the distinction between getting better and also continuous discomfort.

Sciatic sensation problems tenderness is normally brought on through destruction of one or two intervertebral disks in the lower back. A cds will be the delicate shocks sandwiched relating to the vertebrae. If more than one drives is broken sufficiently to project on the passageways where the sensation problems offices which from the sciatic sensation problems leave your spinal column, a nervous feelings can get annoyed. Inflammation with the slipped backbone dvd could also induce swelling and this bloating may well deliver added sensors tenderness. The particular ensuing lack of feeling irritation creates the discomfort along with other signs and symptoms that take a trip into your buttock spot and leg we know of when sciatica pain.

The main results of almost all excellent sciatic pain treatment at home work outs will be to "squeeze" a stuffed intervertebral disc product out from the inflamed anxious feelings (as is accomplished by way of the actual McKenzie off shoot treatment method workouts outlined after) and/or minimize the accumulation connected with water from swelling (which can be done by light aerobic fitness exercise similar to diving or strolling). The following reduction in retention from the lack of feeling root by means of lessened intervertebral blank disc protruding in addition to bloating ordinarily gives quickly relief of symptoms. With duplicated utilization of your property procedure exercises more than a length of a few days, also resilient cases usually find symptom relief in time and constant leveling from the lumbar blank disc wall could happen to control the risk of reinjury. As being the intervertebral disk stabilizes, prolonged relief of pain may be the outcome.

Among the most popular of the sciatic nerve neural soreness work outs would be the above mentioned McKenzie extendable technique, and that is much like a "cobra" place around yoga and fitness. The thought is usually that backward bending on the spine carefully crushes this gel-like chemical within the actual intervertebral dvd onward as well as away from the nerve fibres that leave sciatic neural discomfort.

In combination with sciatic nerve lack of feeling signs or symptoms house exercises, there are actually further more approaches which can be employed to decrease sciatic nerve neurological soreness as well as pain. Employing ice cubes (segregated in the epidermis that has a skinny level of fabric to avoid snow nip) pertaining to 8 to 10 minutes each time up to each couple of hours will most likely ease swelling plus puffiness all-around nerves considerably better than even the more effective anti-inflammatory drugs. Acupressure in addition to self applied restorative massage can even be useful for lessening inflammatory bloating within the back nerves plus reduce hurtful signs and symptoms. The actual decrease in inflammation created by these additional styles of self-care enhance the negative effects of the particular sciatic nerve sensors pain property workouts.

Using duplicated using exercises and extra sciatica self-care solutions, high-priced in addition to time-consuming expert treatment method, unpleasant unwanted effects out of supplements and also obtrusive needles and operations can easily commonly always be definitely avoided. By simply starting to learn on what sciatic nerve sensors house routines and also self-administered therapies to utilize and just what to not utilize, you'll be able to take part in your very own rehabilitation and stop any recurrence on the sciatic nerve pain sooner or later.

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I don't want to be a speck in this ocean of humanity.
I don't want my words to be so small and obscure that even the keenest ear, still, cannot hear.
I don't want to be tossed and kicked and shoved about, like the speck I fear I am.
The speck that floats & sweeps and glides & sighs - the speck that will never be examined.

I breathe.
I live.
I mean.
I am.

I don't want to be invisible.

---

The world is one big bustle after another - people pushing and shoving, only to sleep and repeat?

I am the one you bumped into, in a race to catch the nooner to downtown Detroit.
I am the girl you stumbled past, in your rush to catch another cab.

I am the flower ******* McKenzie who sold you more marigolds.
The waitress at PJ's who asked, "More cream?"
The cashier at Aldi's who bagged your Arizona.

I am that ticket taker at Cinemark who gave you your stub and genuinely hoped you would enjoy your movie.

I am the girl you're seated by, right now.
This instant.

So close, you can hear her soft breaths;
So close, you can nearly smell her perfume;
So close, and still...
You stand.

You gather your things, get off the train, and run off to catch another, what?
Bus? Plane? Cab?

You're gone.
And, I'm here.
And, I'm still the girl;

The girl who might have been your soulmate.
But, you traded me for 15 minutes of silence and a bed you'd sleep in alone.

---

I don't want to be a speck in this ocean that is your world.
I want to be a boulder.

I want to mean something,
And be something,
And exist to you.

So, STOP.
I'm here.


"Hello."
Amanda Kay Burke Nov 2019
I see you everywhere but beside me,
the one place that I need you the most.
I don’t know if you’ve just felt like hiding,
but it feels like I’m being stalked by a ghost.
I think of my life consisting of just time biding,
with parasitic emptiness and I’m the host.
This hits me like waves I am meant to be riding,
and it follows me persistently from coast to coast.

The grass didn’t seem so green back then
I guess all that constant rain did pay off,
‘cause now this little future’s just a casual friend,
and my god looking back the past was soft.
It’s not like I always want to be drenched in sorrow,
I find I look much better in brown, blue or grey,
you know I’d trade in every tomorrow
for just one more yesterday.

I hear every voice but yours in my ears,
the deafening noise has made me forget that sound,
since I’ve heard that sweet melody it’s been too many years,
and every other pitch makes my static brain pound.
I’m always biting my lip but now I’m fighting tears,
I shake my head side to side and around.
I’m quickly losing stamina from battling my fears
and now looking forward to my hole in the ground.

The skies never seemed clear and blue back then,
it turns out that I was the creator of each cloud,
I’m hoarding past calendars so that I can pretend
that I’m back in time and making everyone else proud.
If you’ve got a hour or two that I can borrow,
I swear I’m good for it and whatever price; I’ll pay,
‘cause you know I’d trade in every tomorrow
for just one more yesterday.

I feel you all over, laced in everything,
if it wasn’t such a curse, it’d be a gift.
You’re the peace in winter and the hope in spring,
you’re the summer sun and autumn’s winds so swift.
I’m relieving every memory, looking for a place to cling,
I remember all of the details but the clarity is now adrift.
Side to side, back and forth, I constantly swing,
it pulls and drags me down but it can also give the highest lift.

The sun never seemed to shine right back then,
but maybe I was just too busy looking for artificial light.
I was never one for second looks but I should’ve searched again,
because everything I wanted was already in my sight.
So I plant a seed hoping it will eventually grow
and I sculpt all I wish for with clay,
‘cause you know I’d trade in every tomorrow
for just one more yesterday.
Day 15: post a poem written by somebody else that you love for whatever reason

This was the first one that I thought of when I read the prompt

Way behind btw I just kinda gave up on the 30 day timeline. Instead I'm finishing at my own pace
Whitney J. Blue Feb 2010
I sit where I could get a fresh breathand somehow escape the smells of collard greens, fried chicken, man-n-cheese, and Momma’s 7-up pound cake.Sunday dinners were never going to be the same and Daddy’s to blame.***-bellied Pastor McKenzie sneezed in the same rag that he was wiping his sweaty face with. Auntie Lena brushing pasthim to avoid his sermon on ‘cleansing your soul’ putting the carnation bouquets on the dining table.Momma leaning on her callused elbows, which ain’t ableto take too much more stress. Brandy and Brittney flipped through channels fighting over the best pillow on the couch.My uncle Jo rambling on about this sweating he does in the south.Nobody even noticed the things that were coming out of Daddy’s mouth. “Sorry baby. Daddy’s so sorry,” on repeat like my Alicia Keys CDthat Kayla scratched last year in the same car Daddy wrecked. I played it in the living room, hoping to bring her back.Her frizz free hair was all that I was jealous of. Her clothes were cuter than mine and one size too big. Her humor rubbed off on me and is the reason I’m a kidder. Time to eat, but I can’t breathe.Kayla could never again help with dinner.
Whitney Blue
summer 09
I wake up in an unknown room
With needles sticking out of both my hands and one in my arm
There is a tube down my throat and i cant figure out why im still breathing
I look around with blurry eyes
And here the beeps with foggy ears
I look up to see clear bags on poles connected to the needles
I feel like i can hear the slow drip drip drip of the liquid flowing through those tubes
I know it is impossible but i could feel those drips
They were like tiny earth quakes in my hands
That shook me to my coar
A smiling blonde nurse walks in and takes the tube out of my throat
Her name is McKenzie
McKenzie tells me how I was life flighted to spokane
How i have been in a coma for 4 days
How my heart rate was above 170
How my dog found me
laying on the concrete floor covered in my own ****
But all i can hear is the incessant beeping of machines
All i can hear is the sound of my own failure
I took so many pills i lost track after 150
I could still feel the steel knife against my skin
I was so careful
So sure
Well
They always say third times the charm.
Jax,Lily,Flawless,Marta,Dr.Shweta,Shiv,Neeraj,Dg.
Emeka,Miss,Jule­s,Bridgett,Salim, Joceyn,memoona.
Sampreeta,daud,Stephanie,Grace,No name,Eloisa.
Hijenduanao,Kauthar,Damien,Joye,Marta,Narendra.
Jole­ne, Perry, Freebird,Surbhi,Godawan,Ikimi,tm,
Xaela,try,S Nirmal,Astrea,Erin,Mindless,Lace,HB.
AP,Timur,Kasidee,Caterra,the­ untold,Melancholy.
Melanie,mckenzie, clark,beebz,sherri,bryan,bakunawa.
khaliyah,brianna,Ay2brutus,Ang­el-like,Maxx,Lure ***.
Mike, me zeal, Kim,Kim,Maeiby,Shanath,Marshall,xallan.
Weeping Willow,Mike Hauser,Serena,AnnMarie,DavidLewis.
JenniferJohnson, itgonnamakesense,Mike Essiq,Nancy.
Olivia,Paul,Mark,Phil,PoetressBhumi and Wilyam Pax.
Here some more love you all, I pray that you are blessed.
Geno Cattouse Oct 2013
Mary Mack dressed in red.
A Bonnie blue ball cap adorns her head.
Painted on jeans and jungle boots.

Jet black eyeliner.
curled up lashes. Eyes dark brown. Catch the blue trolley heading uptown.
Mary Mack is a pleasure savant.for twenty-five  dollars you can get what u want.

You caint always get what u want, but if you cry sometimes  
you get what u need.

Mary McKenzie. All in a frenzy.
Sped up on ice. Nice baby. Nice.

Got that rare disease called noassatall.
Burning calories like crazy.
cant call the girl lazy. Never sit still.

Two degrees in arts.
trying out for bit parts.now and then.
Fame. An oasis/mirage

Singing lead in a band in a backyard garage.
Many parts to Ms. Mary.
Strange, sweet,smart and dumb.

Message to Mary.
Go back where your from.
Geno Cattouse Oct 2013
Eleanor rigby. Picks up the rice in the church where her wedding has been.

Lives in a dream. Waits by the window,wearig the face that she keeps in a jar by the door. Who is it for.

Father Mckenzie writting the words to a sermon that no one will hear.
Looka at him.working.darning his socks in the night when there's no body there. No one comes near. All the lonely people.

I look at all the lonely peopple.
The beatles grabbed me @ the age of 12 and never let go
The lyrics stand alone as fantistic poetry.
Mateuš Conrad Sep 2016
that's the words i hear when i hear European
films, esp. in French,
Quarus! Dvór! Baganiet Buda! the cat just
escaped into the night while i was refilling my glass...
i end up feeling so outlandish, so Essex,
so ******* caveman, so Darwinism
making me feel it only writes English history...
so ******* sorry... so ******* whatever...
living in England for the past 20 odd years
makes me miss continents,
it even doesn't make me Icelandic...
it just makes me ******* sad...
it kinda makes me want to rap...
establish the special relationship with America...
well... n'ah, forget the biblical McKenzie...
sleepers sprout from nowhere,
my father played bridge and water-polo...
i was caught catching pokemon...
                 grew a beard and grew a satchel of fat...
**** yeah mickey mouse!
                 charcoal cha-cha smear and
jokinie in French i want to sink this godforsaken place;
every, single, time, i, hear, of America,
in, England, i imagine rednecks equivalents in Dorset,
never bothered to learn a line of parlez-vous...
it eats at me... the laziness... the xenophobic
cocksure libido... it ******* chokes me...
i just want them to learn French, but they won't...
they're sailing all the way toward Mars!
i hope they bring back a bacterial meteor back
to excavate an extinction...
no, next week's Sunday isn't good either,
to hold a receptive care for a lunch...
******, die;
i'm starting to feel English claustrophobia...
which means everyone has to speak English...
**** me it feels like itchy honey smears up
the ****. ugh.
TOD HOWARD HAWKS Jan 2021
The coming of Biden and Harris reminds me of one of the most beautiful and evocative songs ever sung, the first line of which goes something like this:  "If you're going to San Francisco, be sure to wear some flowers in your hair." It was written and composed by John Phillips and sung by Scott McKenzie. Implicit not only in its writing and composing, but also in its singing, this song emotes the most powerful message that can ever be delivered to and absorbed by humankind:  LOVE.

I would have been in Haight-Ashbury in June, July, and August of 1967, but I was a patient at the famous Menninger Foundation at that time, the best help of its kind in the world, and expensive (my father was a rich). But it was my mother who finessed my way into Menninger’s, not my father. He wanted me to become an attorney on Wall Street and make millions (now billions). That is, after all, why he had gladly paid a fortune to send me to the best schools in the world:  Phillips Andover Academy (prep school) and Columbia College, Columbia University. I attended law school after college, but began to have problems sleeping that only grew worse during my first semester. The less sleep I got, the more difficult it was to study. Finally, I couldn’t sleep at all. I dropped out of law school right before first-semester finals, an act for which my father never forgave me.  

But my sleepless nights continued even after I dropped out, which ******* up my mind and my life terribly. I had no idea why this was happening to me. If my mother had not surreptitiously intervened and got me into Menninger’s, I no doubt would not be writing this to you. Psychotherapy not only saved my life, but also allowed me, for the first time in my life, to realize I had feelings--my own feelings--my hopes, my dreams, my wishes, my needs. And after months, something magical happened when I unconsciously married my intellect with my new-found feelings:  out of me popped a poem, and I have remained a poet to this very day.

What does what I’ve just shared with you have to do with Biden and Harris? The answer is that both brought, and now bring, great promise, great hope. Out of total darkness comes the bright light of a new beginning--a caring, a compassion, the lack thereof almost brought me to my death, and our nation, democratically speaking, to the same. Now there are, metaphorically speaking, flowers in our hair once more.

TOD HOWARD HAWKS
Dark n Beautiful Apr 2019
I’m going to kiss your lips,
they are cold and taste like the word America)Quote)*
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I am going to say curry, turmeric, ginger and, garlic
The secret to one’s health:
the true radiant of loving ones’ body:
Like this secret place in my mind
The Gardens at Marqueyssac, Vézac, France.(relaxing)

I’m going to make love to you like the internet explorer
Two words Private mode: just to quench the thirst (even though)
It wiser to separate the two, business and pleasure
One word complication: never bed your business partner (unless)
If you can pulled it off like my heroine McKenzie Bezos (go for it)

I’m going to exam your tockley,
It’s sinful, and deadly, like the  initials S.T.D
I am going to end here with a prayer,
Asking for guidance, and Lysol sprays:


Dark Poem
Mateuš Conrad Nov 2021
the older i become the more it hinders my output:
volume, quality, whatever you want to call...
perhaps it's censorship (in a way) -
a ****** lenovo keyboard: not wide enough
to properly place my hands to not look down
but ahead at the genius of QWERTY...
since... believe me: the classical order of the alphabet
conjured up by the French (perhaps i'm
remembering incorrectly) is not really important:
what matters is the entire body of the scripted
language... words don't unravel from a prerequisite
of abcdefghijklmnopq...rs...t...u...v...w...x...y...z
is that all the letters?
i actually don't know fingers dart backwards &
forwards... or, not really... when playing this
"piano" anyway: as long as all the required
letters are invoked in the required words:
hey presto! meaning!
                      there ought to be 26... funny...
there are 32 letters in the ****** (western Slavic)
alphabet... the same number as the teeth
in my gob...
but sometimes i "lose" a poem... whether it's censorship
when i make a post: ****! gone...
or whether i'm callous with the ctrl + c / + p / + a
scenario when i drank a little bit too much...
i don't know... perhaps i'm writing for
some elite that doesn't want the public to read
my work... i like to think of it that way...
but losing a poo'em can become so disheartening
that i i sometimes want to forget that i speak:
let alone write... now longer periods when
i can rekindle a makeshift monologue:
but then i have to find something technical in language
to reorient my purpose...
it's becoming less & less easy...
esp. since i'm not writing fiction...
  just... grass is green... butternut squash soup is
more than hearty: but it will never match up
to my better take on the Heinz canned classic... period...
not enough chilly in the Heinz... canned classic...
& never eaten with a slice of bread...
it requires vermicelli... like most soups do...
like a decent ****** chicken broth...
which also requires... well: poaching the carcass
but  base set of vegetable...
a leek... a celeriac root slice...
parsley root... a carrot... garlic... celery stalks...
parsley - the green leaves...
salt, pepper... & vermicelli...
oh... & plenty of time...
i'm disheartened when i lose a piece of script:
it's not Shakespeare (obviously) but so much emotion
can flow into the cascade that:
tabloid newspapers are given bragging rights...
are, ahem... "important"... so... my writing...
whether by censorship or not...
or my clumsy fingers when putting across
a body of text from one canvas to another... goes wrong...
hours become days when i find a new:
desire to write... since... writing is much easier
to thinking...
writing is much easier to thinking...
as thinking is much easier to speaking...
- but all of a sudden my life has changed a little...
writing is so much easier when you're
not "doing" anything...
mein gott... poems flow & flow... snippets
of narrative arrive at your forehead & fingertips like
postcards from your ex-girlfriends missing
you dearly from exotic locations: as if being married
& having children is still not enough because:
they didn't have your children & aren't married to you...
the poo'em i lost was about... two days ago...
travelling to Wembley Park for... an induction...
the role? being a steward...
i figured: enough of youth can be wasted on dreams...
literary dreams...
let's inject some... proper... grass-root ambition
with... RE-AH-LI-TY (****... phonetically that's
REE-AH-LEE-TEA/EE/AE)...
this writing "business" isn't going at the pace
i want... sure... i can brag about...
wow... almost 40 thousand views of one poem...
there are over 6K poems of mine, just here...
Wembley Stadium can host 90,000 spectators...
one poem of mine can muster up... almost half
of the capacity?
not bad... but... not good enough...
lucky for me i can relate for this sort of thirst when
drinking... sometimes i'm content with
a bottle of wine... at other times i need a liter of whiskey...
go figure... but not when so many idiotic pundits...
when there's this media masquerade happening...
i'm in the shadows: i'm listening to what people
are listening to... i never leave traces in the comment
sections: a waste of time...
makes thinking about certain things easier:
when you don't air your opinions...
after all: that's pseudo-rhetorical...
the true art of debate is... withdrawing from:
debating... the dialectical position is:
first mind diacritical marks (sorry... none in English,
& yes... it's still more ugly
when phonetically charged with graffiti "mishaps"...
misnomer: "shortcuts")...
- where was i? oh right... perhaps i "missed" something
in my original lost sample of a narrative:
although (last time i checked)
this website provides automated save as drafts
when you stop typing - after a prolonged period
of typing: my bad...
writing is so much easier when life is uneventful...
i could tease that word: uneventful into
a katakana syllabary: i almost want i almost have
to i therefore (not almost, but) must:
un-eh-vent-ful...
oh look at that: sitting pretty like a toddler
with a drumstick of a chicken (leg)...
**** it: my writing is going nowhere...
i have more ambition to simply let it... sizzle in its own
juices: or whatever better expression is handy...
none come to mind...
i need to look at people: i need to study people...
the internet is an echo-chamber to begin with:
it used to...
a jukebox narrative... such freedoms were
once available... mein gott... what music
i discovered when foraging on youtube...
in two years... gone... the algorithm got ******...
period: bad grammar is an exemplification
of this load of: hot-steaming... mix of **** & *******...
i need a real job... wasting my youth on writing
is not enough: perhaps my writing will catch up:
or my readership will... either way:
i'm not aiming for anything under
the title-weight of a Bukowski:
lucky ******... but i'm also not aiming for
the almost near obscurity of... the Black Mountain poets...
who was their leader... Larry?
Lee-rrr...       eh... it's not like a tarantula didn't
crawl into an English mouth & "somehow"
numbed the tongue for the end result of:
nein zu tremolo! ****'s sake... if i only asked:
why the French Fwench... but they hark so:
never mind...   yes, yes... Larry Eignar...
**** me... that took a while...
but there's another... a "renegade" on the...
ha ha... steppes of "Cambodia"...

          Russell is a likely connotation...
but incorrect... let's see....
     wait... Charles Olson... ol' Ollie...
he? he was a black mountain poet?
you ******* kidding me...
no chance in hell that will pass by me
given.... concerning his Maximus poems...
like: **** no...
i'm a critic i'm a nobody i'm a porveurour...
now i remember the ******'s name:
Robert ******* Kreely...
him! Kreely: Creely... Creeley...
**** it... fling in the vowels...
lets see what sort of a trebuchet **** master
you... ought... might... make.
oh.... wait.... important "news"...
an... apostrophe "missing": plain Jane typo....
where?LET(')S i.e. implying the shortening of:
the inclusivity of the collective... "US"..
      wunderbar!
                 schön!
that's the umlaut O... ergo... shoo... shoon...
great!
                           kaninchen und...
                        rosa ball-ons!  
i know a ******* balloon from a *******
ball-on... it's like telling me...
what's the difference between an omicron
and an omega...
i.e. do you really need to tell me
the difference?
sure... if it was an upsilon: you *******
clueless Greek!
what audacity:
you ******* clueless... Greek...
what... better some Iranian...
arriving from... Belarus?!
oh sure... i really want to live in Kenya...
among the ivory beauties with skins
that hide their bodies...
******* milk on toast... some chocolate:
sprinkled... i see teeth & sclera...
& some mahogany...
  ****? i'd **** anything that moves...
even south Korean girls geared up for a game of....
ping-pong....
my bad... what?
or is that: WAT like... WATT...
the energy unit or the Samuel Beckett novel
that over-competes James Joyce's Ulysses?!

your is the roulette... yours... hmm... your's...
for a while... the latter was underlined...

life used to be so much simpler when...
language could speak for... "itself"...
no one could use it: somehow, "somehow"...

i applied for the role of a Wembley Stadium
steward on a whim...
i thought: **** it... writing is not going toward
a projected: Ginsberg stastus...
i'm not going to compete with the leftoid jargon
of the 1960s... lucky me...

i'm just a terrible "millenial"...
i use an apostrophe like i migh5t secure understand
of the Pythagorean hypotenuse...
some C "squared"...
Wembley Stadium steward...
this... cacophony of hierarchy "suddenly" hits me...

i can understand authority...
tier one, tier two... vampire... zombie...
sure, sorted...

of the supposed 12 rules for life...
one of them reeds... i suppose that's reed: read:
reeds... sorry.. n'est ce pas...
pet a cast on the sreet?
you know, how hard it is... to pet a cat..
on the street?!
if you lived in England...
wolves... what wolves?!
foxes... oh yeah... plenty of those...
but... petting cats?
a bit like explaining...
a jpeg. take up less volume... ha ha: "volume"
than a pdf. file...

why i was mo4e than ready: i'll never known...
perhaps i'm a closeted fan of Ed Sheeran,
perhaps i like children in the role of:
a fathering figure...
perhaps children like to
poke my beard & lips...
perhaps this... perhaps that...
perhaps i'm ******* Santa Claus...
or what's Satan's Claus(e)....
all these freebies... cough up!

or... i just like making people "feel" included:
"feel" is one "thing", REALISED... another...
it might sound like newsspeak...
but... i don't want to ingest another...
Manchester Bomb Arena spectacle...

SAA... a week in Brixton... 7 days...
but they require a cohort of at least 12 applicants...
it elevastes your status as steward to:
someone who can: "juggle"...
be legally obliged to utilised force:
if necessary...
i like... i like... i like...

first ZOOM call in my life... ******* Ludite...
luddite... ugh... that double D kills me...
surd: you don't hear(d) to: begin with...
so... what... spelling "mistake"?

oh sure... the ****** transit & traffic...
train from Romford through to Liverpoool St...
then the Metropolitan Line to Wembley Park...
great... the arch...
a black coffee from McDonald's & two croissants from
Lidl... morning... done...
no more... morning sickness....
come late afternoon Somali girls eyeing me up in a black
tie... o.k. sure... fair game: "gamble"...
hunting what?
i like this understudy of what's man...

i arrived an hour early...
waited the tad bit... of a little... we exchanged formalities... but then i watched as...
two groups formed...
the ****-shock-show of the multi-cultural urban... ahem... "class"... with one rep. & the other... mostly... asian men... with their... asian rep...

12 rules for life... seriously?! do you know how hard it is... to pet a cat? sorry... can i make you reiterate... petting a cat... lucky me... for petting two cats today... "strays"... but... do you know how nearly impossible it is... to pet cats, is?! you don't pet a cat because you can... you pet a cat out of the whims of: the cat willing you to pet it!  just like i like... sitting on my windowsill listening to foxes bemoan their lack of ****** adventures... it's England... foxes... ergo no wolves! d'uh! cull the foxes... you cull the erotica of the nights!

between... sigourney weaver... &...
mmm... winona ryder...
raven 'air...
two winners... how harems work...

Tuba Büyüküstün...

apologies for the phrasing...
if all the supposed gems not donning niqabs
that are western women
are so... *******: NIGGERCOCK mad...
Tuba Büyüküstün... oh... look at me...
you think i want some anemic blonde:
stereotype?!
raven... hair!
sure... the black male specimens are
handsome, attractive: if i were a woman:
i would... ha... "problem"...
why don't i want to...
the ****** antonym... because a white girl
really wants to... do a black guy...
do i... "have" to have the same
compulsions with regards to a black girl?!
Turkic! **** yes!
Mongolian... probably!
Tuba Büyüküstün...
or... swans probably don't have necks...
no... swans probably don't have necks
when you see this:

(although sophie skelton looks
better in the initial photograph...
papa best preached)...
swans don't have necks...
not with her...
around... to... curate... a balett of
nodding  approvals...

Caitríona Mary Balfe... i'm so loved up...
in that i once remarked in private:
bemoaned: that the Scots have forgotten
their native tongue...
swans have no necks...
swans don't need necks...

the neck of Caitríona Mary Balfe
eyes... too...
or the short-styled hair... & eyes
of Tuba Büyüküstün...
don't get me started on the hands...
those petite Antoinetes of joy...
the most ****** aspect of a woman is bound
to her hands... i'm missing a knuckle! or at least
*******!

woo-man!                         woe-is-me!
woe-is-man!             woo-man!
i'll bark i'll gargle... not for the sold-cold "soul & eternity"
of the d.n.a.:
but rather for that Muhammad never achieved when
competing with King Solomon!
then again... King David had the better tale...
the love of music, the writing of the psalms
&... defeating Goliath...
king Solomon was... compensating with
the excessing in the exploitation of women...
eh... Solomon &... proverbs can be tested...
true... or untrue...
but psalms... unconditionally...
sung... or... lost...
no antonym-synonym dynamic...
you either remember or you forget...
you don't merely remember & pseudo-remember
via changing the narrative a little: or a lot...

what a neck... on this Irish beauty...

two frotiers formed.... one side...
the cosmopolitan, readied to talk to women
in possible women in authority, etc.
whatever are the preferenfes....
i really adore the ROYAL: third person:
ONE might...
or the plural WE....
"genger plural pronouns":
not since the existence of the "crown":
i am subject to ol' Lizzies stipends!

i am her mouthpiece wherever she's:
not m'ah ******* grandma!
on zoom calll i was sked....   (scared, for sked)
what were British values....
i was asked....
i replied... universal?!
i passed some mythological...
Kennsington Test...
ooh p'ah! ******* hurah
join the Union Jack brigade!
who's kidding who?

              the red coats are coming!
last time i 'eard?
not enough of 'em are "coming"...
come to "think" of it: beside staring at goats...
"going": where?
do "we" need to "go" to Afghanistan
when... Afghanistan is coming to us?!

sorry... what?

two groups of people at Wembley...
mostly Asian men... an Asian rep...
& a group led by a Jewish girl...
talk of tortoises...
Sikh... Tamil... Sanskrit... men...
& women... ******...
Stalowa Wola: Iron Will... which is
an actual town...
Harry... the guy with tattoed hands...
Ewelina: Evaline...
**** me... another single mother...
how many more single mothers will i have to pass?!
i don't mind it:
ancient Rome replies with:
the surrogate father...
chances are...
i could be a bad genetic partner...
i wouldn't mind... raising children that weren't my own...
i swear to the only god available on such
matters...
he'd just nod approving me as
surrogate father...
to hell with it...
CORALINE - DREAMING...
ancient Rome sends you a postcard...
you'll reply?
        no? fair enough...
i could i wish i could...
a little: BAMBINO of my own...
bit then again...
investing in so much of my own...
what if... they are killed...
hell! ****** is one "thing"...
but what if by some stupid circumstance of
a traffic incident?!
ergo?
i very much like the idea of raising children that
biologically "belong"... ahem...
"elsewhere"...
not their souls, their minds.. though...
n'est ce pas?! VOU... that's not how
ALTHOUGH is assembled?
AUL: ALL.... VOU? it's not VOW...
ate the G... no, kiddy?

i love children... esp. those that are not my own...
i could love them & love them like
an Abraham... nein... i could love them like...
a god... i could love children in a way that...
mirrors.. the moment they arrive at...
exploring the game of:
hide & seek...
there was never any playground invoked
to summon: the game of bulldog...

i'm glad i have no children of my own...
more of my seeing and less of the eyes of my "choosing"...
petty tender heart-felts: demands...
i'd rather father the children of "unavaliable" fathers
than father my own...
ancient Rome is messaging you...
dearest...
   look how much easier it all becomes!
you raise someone else's child... but...
should said child die... become murdered...
erm... what of it?
a statistic... i feel no inclination to give a ****...
i invested in the mind... the soul...
the body can ***** itself to death...
as it does... but it's not my own...
i can be as much detached from its fate as is most purposively
ridden: to riddle me...
i'm glad to not raise my own!
it dies... it's murdered... do i care?
no... life replaces life... here we go: the grand
carousel... it's not like i have name like:
McKenzie or... McDougal...
so... no... no lineage... i'm a baron of the most
atomised of times... the individualistic
sanctity: real or supposed...

ancient Rome replies:
the negativity of single mother households....
compensated with... the freedoms of...
paternal surrogacy... give me a break!
ha! it's Eden! i come with not leverage of....
ownership! i owe nothing due to
the Darwinistic impetus!
i'd be freed from whatever is expected of me...
there are no investments...
in pronouns... might we:
the royal one?

ha!

it's no much easier to have children
that turn out to be girl...
ha!

i'd rather be a surrogate father to a "daughter"...
come to think of it...
i'd only want...
to be a father... to a son... biologically....
a daughter can...
Mayflower herself... or ***** herself all she wants...
from a father: unto a son...
like that "******": Matthew & Son (cat stevens)
or... "dreaming": Coraline...

the inquisitive cat... the teenage girl...
the "felix"... the Urdu... somewhat...
the inquisitive cat... kommen die nacht....
alles ist nacht...

if there's no democracy in poetry:
then there's no democracy at all!
maxim: non-la-rochefoucauld
Ron McKenzie Jun 2016
Truth is, the world needs more people to love.
Love is so rare now because everyone wants to play the tough guy. Truth is you're hurt on the inside and need LOVE, but has a fake "savage" persona.

Truth is, everything is about likes, follows, views, etc., but no one has morals. We are willing to do anything to get the above listed. Think.

Truth is, we are QUICK to bash people instead of help them become better.

Truth is, we are quick to reject correction and become FOOLS.

Truth is, we need to stop worrying about what people think. Love yourself and do what makes YOU happy.

I don't know who made it cool to be "cool".
Be yourself. If people are not f-cking with you, for being yourself, then so be it. They obviously don't need to be in your life.

Truth is, we need to focus on becoming better as individuals.

Peace and love.
                        -Ron McKenzie, @ronomckenzie
The hammer is falling, my fists are clenching, my teeth are gnashing while my bones are crunching. Waves of pain are crashing, smashing against me, finally breaking. This level of pain can't be good to be taking, bad for my health. The voices are calling but no one is there, not even myself. My blood is pumping, sped by adrenaline dumping. The lack of the drug is inducing my mind to start seizing, both my legs are freezing, involuntarily quaking. The sensation of claws are slashing my back. As my heart keeps thumping, jumping around - heart attack? Now my blood is pooling. So the attack dogs keep drooling. They smell the blood and begin to whip into a frenzy, so I jump up, and run like McKenzie. Moving fast, as if I had wheels, one dog was faster and now nips at my heels. The dog bit my foot so I tripped and then fell. Now it’s gnawing on my leg, and I don’t feel very well. So I patted the dog’s head and then laid down for a spell…will I wake up? Only time will tell. When I come to my senses I won't feel at all well. Life hurts at times, unbearably so. If not for Divine intervention, I'd much rather go.
(Alright. So I took an older, rather cruddy poem, reworked and reworded it, retitled it and now it's a new rather cruddy poem, that's a whole lot less cruddy, and may even be alright in someone's opinion...my fingers aren't crossed though. But, it's much better [again, in my opinion], more specific than the original poem was and titled more accurately. I hope you find something of some value in there. It's satisfying to improve something that was previously much less than mediocre... 😄) Neat, I just looked at this after fixing typos and noticed it'd been "seen" 23 times (probably all from myself, checking the text again & again for errors).. that's just my favorite number, is all. 23. Neat. Oh! Music playing while writing, was Morphine's album, "a cure for pain". Excellent saxophone & slide bass!
Graff1980 Oct 2016
This isn’t Eleanor Rigby
but I still see all the lonely people.

Young man makes plans
to be better,
but it is so easy
to stop resisting
old temptations,
especially when it feels like
no one really loves you.

Why not do
what the drugs tell you to do
cause a moment of relaxation
is one moment
against a lifetime of rejections.

So, he picks the closest poison
bottles, cans, pills, powders, or joints
to do what everyone was expecting of him.

Each failure is etched in his skin.
One more lost cause to remind him
that he is a worthless *******
so bad that even his dad
and mom don’t want see him.

This isn’t Father McKenzie
praying over his non-existent flock faithfully,
but I still see all the lonely people.

Crippled vet who hasn’t eaten yet
with a small cardboard sign
asks for a sandwich or a dime.

Ten blocks down the line
there is a blind man with a book bag
using his monthly check for
the cheapest hotel he can find.
Until, he runs out of money
then spends the next week and a half
sleeping on the sidewalk.

Or the old lady just off the highway
with a medium size dog,

Or the young man just of the entrance
that takes me up to the Wal-Mart
where I buy enough food to get by
throwing left overs out
at the end of the week.

At the end of the month they are all still lonely.
As am I.
Mateuš Conrad Aug 2018
i could have had siblings,
and turned out less... quirky...
but then Chernobyl happened...
and it was like...
either we keep one,
or we breed another,
     hapless limb-McKenzie;
i.e.?
   i'm not a solipsist by nature,
or choice,
  rather...
             a scare...
                  given that atheism
already knows that god,
or, "god", has solipsism ingrained
in "its" ontological architecture....
   and...
       wasn't Kant who revitalißed
the concern for dialectics?
why pin down Hegel as originator?
     i've moved past conversational
english in compositional parameters...
       alles ist abstrakt...
     there's conversational english,
which i retain...
   but compositional english?
  sorry...
                        there's an automated
hindering herr zensor in place...
                      conversational english
is for english people...
     my english?
           they don't teach in the native
high-schools;
also known as
     schattenzungepuppenspiel...
and i know how the ancient Saxons
love their compounding of words,
   how they loath the French deviance
from diacritical markers -
how they eat up consonant syllables,
and how they loath,
English shrapnel,
  and the hyphenation, intra-words...
guess this sort of ontology,
perpetrates, a central european
bias against the outliers -
Mc for the catholic in scotland...
Mac for the protestant
           under the guise of Knox.
so look, at the Chinese predicament of
the weight of my predicament
behind me... wavering and counter-instigating
a perspective...
of being a mono- guise of
reproductive structuring...
        if only Chernobyl didn't happen...
i'm sure that my mother
would have been more ballsy to
allow me a younger brother, or sister...
        i guess...
   i managed to figure out the solo...
more than, those forced to play
out the siblings orchestration...
oh i compete, to the death,
with my first acquired sibling...
mein schatten.
Chuck Kean Jan 2022
Reign OF Terror

      In the narrow London streets
In the heavy mist and chill
In the thick London fog, he’d hide
In the shadows and move in for the ****

With the dusk comes the breeze
Your hair rises is the killer near
In the night hear the screams
In your veins feel the fear

His victims, Annie Chapman, Mary Ann Nichols, Frances Coles, Elizabeth Stride,
Alice McKenzie, no matter how carefully
They tried, from his wrath they couldn’t hide

London Police were left Baffled
They dubbed him Jack the Ripper
He was swift and smooth
There was no one slicker

For even with every clue and every lead
His evilness was free from error
On the narrow streets in the London fog
During his Reign Of Terror

Written By:Charles Kean
Copyright © 01/05/2022
All rights reserved
His Reign of Terror lasted for three months
Started on August 31st in 1888
And it’s believed that there were actually
11 Victims and to this day technically
They’re still unsolved.

— The End —