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"meghan" poems
i was told i could be anything, so i chose to be a feminist because when i suggested my father help with the laundry, my mother told me i was crazy. because meghan tranior's "all about that bass" is telling bigger girls to be comfortable in their own skin because skinny girls already do, right? because i'd like to make as much as my male coworkers. because i was laughed at for wanting to be a doctor instead of a housewife. because people look at me strange when i say i don't want kids. because when i gave a speech about feminism in my english class, i was called a man-hater. because "my shoulders distract the boy's education". because my mom shouldn't have to worry about what goes in my drink at concerts. i will be a feminist until i can tell my boyfriend "no babe, i'd rather watch the movie" and i am not told "you're depriving him of his needs". until my body is my body. until i no longer have to carry pepper spray on a keychain. until women in foreign countries can vote and drive. until woman means human. until we understand **** culture and feminism isn't just about women, it's about humans.
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Jan 12, 2015
Jan 12, 2015 at 9:01 PM UTC
feminism
The beautiful girl with the raven hair. A sleeve of pain she doesn’t remember. A past of stolen innocence and growing up too fast. A life of raising her sisters but losing her daughter, because money doesn’t grow on trees and 22 weeks was all the time she could get. A heart of gold but a facade of steel, too scared to let anyone back in. A soul that rages of fire, power, and more grit than anyone I’ve met. A future that my heart wishes for her more than she will ever know. She will get everything she desires. Her sobriety will be the medal around her neck. Her life will be the trophy she won back. And her beautiful children will be the emblem of strength that let them be born.
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Dec 7, 2018
Dec 7, 2018 at 9:44 PM UTC
Meghan
Seven year old Meghan boasted after school that she already knew who she was to marry -- His name was Jack and she had cold, hard facts to back up her theory on why he would be her perfect husband "He's not crazy and we both like legos" Fair enough. *if only we never grew out of our old toys, never stopped building and re-building what got torn down brick by brick maybe then I'd still be hiding in the closet kissing eddie martin with the lights off* But neither of us like legos anymore and I guess we're both slightly crazy Meghan will learn soon enough that after a while you will step on too many legos and you will have had enough
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Apr 3, 2014
Apr 3, 2014 at 12:21 AM UTC
True Story
She draws Crayola green meadows in which she frolics and laughs snuggling up to her imaginary daddy whom she colors in unstraight multi-hued stripes accessorized by a large unselfish heart in brick red proudly erupting from his chest. Her sepia brown-blob puppy is rediculously happy, just like her holding the perfect father she has always dreamed he is. Together they stare at blue construction paper skies and cotton ball clouds discovering sailing ships, famous people heads, and all the animals they will see on the day he comes to take her to the zoo. ~ He labors intently within the lines coloring subdivided spaces in one direction just the way he would teach her if she were here. Pressing into the bold outline on a tiger tail he hears her giggle in his thoughts. He closes the book each page fully given life placing it on the teetering pile of earlier masterpieces filed beside his desk where he and his daughter stored the art they created on regular dates they never had. He rises on the ritual of completion toward his omnipresent closet full of stacked and redundant "if onlys", each one shaped as a 64-count box purchased and purchased again with every book he intended to share on their next wax pencil excursion. On his toes, one more "if only" goes to the top. He still colors. She still dreams. ~ An Orange/Red sun drew itself out of the bleacher tiered palate and hung high betwixt her cottonball clouds 29 years from the start. Daddy holds his daughter in deep embrace while a secret artiste' paints a tiny translucent drop on her quivering cheek. The diligence of construction-paper prayers are answered in the evidence that there is no crayon for clear... it is a tear, and we are really here. (I love you my precious girl, with every color in the box :-))
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Jun 11, 2014
Jun 11, 2014 at 2:32 AM UTC
Color My Wishes (for Meghan)
She draws Crayola green meadows in which she frolics and laughs snuggling up to her imaginary daddy whom she colors in unstraight multi-hued stripes accessorized by a large unselfish heart in brick red proudly erupting from his chest. Her sepia brown-blob puppy is rediculously happy, just like her holding the perfect father she has always dreamed he is. Together they stare at blue construction paper skies and cotton ball clouds discovering sailing ships, famous people heads, and all the animals they will see on the day he comes to take her to the zoo. ~ He labors intently within the lines coloring subdivided spaces in one direction just the way he would teach her if she were here. Pressing into the bold outline on a tiger tail he hears her giggle in his thoughts. He closes the book each page fully given life placing it on the teetering pile of earlier masterpieces filed beside his desk where he and his daughter stored the art they created on regular dates they never had. He rises on the ritual of completion toward his omnipresent closet full of stacked and redundant "if onlys", each one shaped as a 64-count box purchased and purchased again with every book he intended to share on their next wax pencil excursion. On his toes, one more "if only" goes to the top. He still colors. She still dreams. ~ An Orange/Red sun drew itself out of the bleacher tiered palate and hung high betwixt her cottonball clouds 29 years from the start. Daddy holds his daughter in deep embrace while a secret artiste' paints a tiny translucent drop on her quivering cheek. The diligence of construction-paper prayers are answered in the evidence that there is no crayon for clear... it is a tear, and we are really here. (I love you my precious girl, with every color in the box :-))
Continue reading...
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The secret’s out – Hip! Hip! Horray! Meghan Markle has had her way: no papparazzi just a note to state.. ..gold framed upon the palace gate.. a baby born to her and Prince Harry. It was a very private affair - narry a Home Secretary  was there to see the birth - a custom ended by decree: though historically meant as inclusion t’was deemed at last a male intrusion. Now in an age where all is bi- ethnic black and white tie parently neat and true with the royal blood line’s red, white,  and blue. By George! To Will and Kate in poetry  - I must relate there is no comparison other than that word rhymes with Harrison. Hey. Nonny. Nay. Alack a day - I must away, for this verse done and said I could withall lose my head. Tobias
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May 15, 2019
May 15, 2019 at 6:54 AM UTC
HARRY'S Son - The Court Jester writes..
Edit I will not ring the bell! by Meghan RakChazak Gibbs on Wednesday, 17 August 2011 at 12:10 · It's not to late, I will not ring the bell! God, I give you my all, I will not ring the bell! I have not given into temptation, I will not ring the bell! Teaching has fallen on deaf ears, I will not ring the bell! My God has not forsaken me, I will not ring the bell! The Lord has given me strength, I will not ring the bell! Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will not ring the bell! Though the cords of death entangle me, I will not ring the bell! Though the anguish of the grave came upon me, I will not ring the bell! In the time to die and to weep, I will not ring the bell! When I feel alone, lost and confused, I will not ring the bell! I will not ring the bell! I WILL NOT RING THE BELL!!!!!!
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Jun 15, 2012
Jun 15, 2012 at 1:17 PM UTC
I Will Not Ring The Bell
now that the duchess of Sussex has been incorporated into the firm she must wear regulation tights which will make her legs squirm before she wed Harry she'd show an excessive bit of shin skin this is no longer possible at garden parties inside the palace's inn a strict dress code was imposed on every component of attire for queen Betty wants Meghan properly decked out to admire we can expect more formal kit being part of her wardrobe when she travels around the world representing England's finest lobe
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May 30, 2018
May 30, 2018 at 7:39 PM UTC
Regulation Tights
Dear future husband, Here's a few things You'll need to know if you wanna be My one and only all my life Take me on a date I deserve a break And don't forget the flowers every anniversary 'Cause if you'll treat me right I'll be the perfect wife Buying groceries Buy-buying what you need You got that 9 to 5 But, baby, so do I So don't be thinking I'll be home and baking apple pies I never learned to cook But I can find a hook Sing along with me Sing-sing along with me (hey) You gotta know how to treat me like a lady Even when I'm acting crazy Tell me everything's alright Dear future husband, Here's a few things you'll need to know if you want to be My one and only all my life Dear future husband, If you wanna get that special lovin' Tell me I'm beautiful each and every night After every fight Just apologize And maybe then I'll let you try and rock my body right Even if I was wrong You know I'm never wrong Why disagree? Why, why disagree? You gotta know how to treat me like a lady Even when I'm acting crazy Tell me everything's alright Dear future husband, Here's a few things You'll need to know if you want to be My one and only all my life (hey, baby) Dear future husband, Make time for me Don't leave me lonely And know we'll never see your family more than mine I'll be sleeping on the left side of the bed (hey) Open doors for me and you might get some kisses Don't have a ***** mind Just be a classy guy Buy me a ring Buy-buy me a ring, babe You gotta know how to treat me like a lady Even when I'm acting crazy Tell me everything's alright Dear future husband, Here's a few things You'll need to know if you want to be My one and only all my life Dear future husband, If you wanna get that special loving Tell me I'm beautiful each and every night Future husband, better love me right
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Oct 6, 2014
Oct 6, 2014 at 7:34 PM UTC
Future husband (Meghan Trainor)
Dear future husband, Here's a few things You'll need to know if you wanna be My one and only all my life Take me on a date I deserve a break And don't forget the flowers every anniversary 'Cause if you'll treat me right I'll be the perfect wife Buying groceries Buy-buying what you need You got that 9 to 5 But, baby, so do I So don't be thinking I'll be home and baking apple pies I never learned to cook But I can find a hook Sing along with me Sing-sing along with me (hey) You gotta know how to treat me like a lady Even when I'm acting crazy Tell me everything's alright Dear future husband, Here's a few things you'll need to know if you want to be My one and only all my life Dear future husband, If you wanna get that special lovin' Tell me I'm beautiful each and every night After every fight Just apologize And maybe then I'll let you try and rock my body right Even if I was wrong You know I'm never wrong Why disagree? Why, why disagree? You gotta know how to treat me like a lady Even when I'm acting crazy Tell me everything's alright Dear future husband, Here's a few things You'll need to know if you want to be My one and only all my life (hey, baby) Dear future husband, Make time for me Don't leave me lonely And know we'll never see your family more than mine I'll be sleeping on the left side of the bed (hey) Open doors for me and you might get some kisses Don't have a ***** mind Just be a classy guy Buy me a ring Buy-buy me a ring, babe You gotta know how to treat me like a lady Even when I'm acting crazy Tell me everything's alright Dear future husband, Here's a few things You'll need to know if you want to be My one and only all my life Dear future husband, If you wanna get that special loving Tell me I'm beautiful each and every night Future husband, better love me right
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Turn the "M" sideways. Marshal Mathers Marilyn Monroe Marilyn Manson Matthew McConaughey Meghan Markle Mac Miller Melissa McCarthy Mads Mikkelsen Mandy Moore Max Minghella Malcom McDowell M.J (M) 13+(J) 10 = 23 (two threes) 33 Michael Jordan Michael Jackson Michael Johnson Magic Johnson **** Jagger Marc Jacobs Milla Jovovich Montel Jordan C.C (C) 3+(C) 3 = (Two Threes) Chevy Chase Cindy Crawford Chelsea Clinton Courtney *** Chris Cornel Christopher Columbus Charlie Chaplin Camila Cabello Chris Cuomo Chuck Connors B.C or C.B (B) 2+(C) 3 = (Two Threes) Bill Clinton Bill Cosby Bradley Cooper Benedict Cumberbatch Billy Crystal Ben Carson Chadwick Boseman Christian Bale Chris Brown Charles Bronson Chris Benoit Companies Hiding Evil Numbers BBC=223 Skull and bones 322 (biblical) just Google 322 bible. They are trying to become God's. Eat from the tree of life and live forever. What do you think that means? WWE Flip the letters around and you get 333. For 33.3 CNN logo is CW for 33 (C)3 + (W) flipped is a 3 F.O.X in the hebrew alphabet is 666
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Sep 28, 2021
Sep 28, 2021 at 5:51 AM UTC
The cult of 33 (Satanist's) "And a third of the Angels fell"
One: I am born, brown eyed and screaming Two: I am four years old, people compliment my sisters exotic green eyes. Are mine ugly? Three: I am seven, and I am thinner than her. I win. Four: I am eleven and I lie about my weight. I wish I was skinny. Five: I am thirteen, refusing to eat Six: I am fourteen and empty. I cut every inch of my body Seven: I am fifteen and miserable. I contemplate suicide Eight: I am sixteen and medicated. Meghan killed herself. I am bones. Am I alive? Nine: I am seventeen and I ache, but I am healing
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Sep 13, 2014
Sep 13, 2014 at 5:44 PM UTC
Nine
You are my sunshine As well as my moonshine With this gaze, intoxicated so full of love that it can only be translated when demonstrated. Fascinated by the waves of patience To you, I'm yours truly dedicated. Syncopated stains will not extinguish the flames, for we soar hand in hand after leaps of faith. In each other we've made a safe place. Putting the om in home lifts the expression on my face, leaving every trace of what was for that sweet, now taste.   We aid each other to chase what we crave.   Exercising limitlessness Our souls have already been saved.   Happy that we took a chance to be brave.   A moment in time is all it took to see your grace.  Crossing paths at last to live in harmony at our own pace I work for us, not just the monetary means, That gentleman we encountered had it right last year in New Orleans Now you lay, head already in dreams. My Sun and my moon, I still feel your bright beams.   I have no worries, because we make an unbreakable team. I'll nuzzle you soon and always be the shoulder on which you can lean.   The kisses are coming, just you wait and see. Thank you for all the times you fixed me up some tea, and reminded me to breathe. I now have enough stillness to take on life with ease. Let's continue to wondrously grow together, and show time our eternity~ I love you Meghan <3
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Oct 27, 2015
Oct 27, 2015 at 2:05 AM UTC
My mirror
They married in the merry month of May at Windsor Castle  - Hey Noney Ney! So, Meghan and Prince Harry decided not to tarry. Now a baby’s on the way. next Spring - they say.. The Queen’s amused The Duke’s bemused Prince Charles enthused: saying to Duchess Camilla, “A Jolly Good Show! Oh Joy!” Said she: “A girl or boy?” Said HRH "Don't tease.   One or the other - no transgender if you please, nor talk of Succession to threaten my Accession.” TOBIAS
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Oct 16, 2018
Oct 16, 2018 at 4:32 AM UTC
Lines on a Royal Babe Expected
Queen for a day. Prisoner for life. Her 'crimes': New mother and wife; A woman of color Thinking for herself; Just leave her be, please, Lest history repeat itself.
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Nov 21, 2019
Nov 21, 2019 at 7:25 AM UTC
Meghan Under the Microscope
I've got my very own Puck and Ash I am their Meghan chase Jose Puck A trickster that takes nothing too seriously a smirk every present a joke always being told But behind that smile behind that joke there is just a boy wanting to love his princess but never able to Matt Ash Silent and brooding as cold as ice hide behind your walls a dark knight in a world so bright Bound by Honor and ever the gentleman But behind the walls behind the darkness there is just boy Loving a princess Who loves him back Nicole Meghan Stuck in her mortal world best friend who will always be in her heart who loves him But not the way he wants who danced with darkness with no fear and fell head over heels Whose best friend and love of her life hate each other with feirce passion her dark Knight vowing to end the others life Uneasy Truce Draw up between them The dark prince and the Trickster Just to keep their princess happy.
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May 1, 2014
May 1, 2014 at 1:43 PM UTC
My Very own Puck & Ash
Isn’t it hard to believe Someone would give their life For you and for me? Leaving behind a husband or wife Maybe they had children A few brothers or sisters At least a million Fallen Mrs. and Mr’s Never again will they see the glow Of a warm, welcoming light Feel the chill of powdery snow For a rare Christmas of white Not even one last goodbye To those in their lives who mattered Just a peaceful sigh From the soldier who is tattered These strangers who lay down their lives Are hidden everywhere So thank he who survives Show them that you care ©Meghan Weatherford
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Nov 6, 2014
Nov 6, 2014 at 9:30 PM UTC
Isn't it strange?
There will be times when the storms in the ocean seem to swell; When the skies above darken and the whispers start to yell When you feel like the only soul left in this world, And the corner is refuge to your weakened body curled I'll tell you now, sweet child of the early and free years, Those rosy cheeks of yours will become home to many tears. And the sad times will seem too big for your little eyes. But whenever you feel lost, just look to the skies. Broken hearts will come and go like the seasons And troubles will come on occasion, lacking reasons. But we come from a long line of strong  hearts, And these bad times and sad times are all beautiful parts Of the astounding and wonderful life you've yet to live. So don't cry now, but think of what you have now to give In a world that sometimes seems a little dark and a little grim, Fill it will love, and hope: happiness stuffed to the brim. So little girl of the past: This world is so vast, And filled with little time So please, remember this rhyme And wipe your tears little child And I'll look back on this day, as one when you smiled. Love Always, Meghan
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Nov 27, 2012
Nov 27, 2012 at 11:15 PM UTC
To a Younger Self
Oh girlie, girlie! Oh Meghan, Meghan! I must confess, I still believe (still believe), That I can crash to the ground! Give me a sign, To give me the clap Meghan one more time! Oh girlie, girlie! Oh Rebecca, Rebecca! I'm addicted to you. Don't you know that you're flamboyant! And I love what you do. Don't you know that you're flamboyant! Oh girlie, girlie! Oh Daniel, Daniel! I think I did it again, I made you believe that I can fly, Oh Daniel! To pet a cat like that is just so typically me. Oh girlie, girlie! **** I did it again! I tried to pet a kitty cat! Oh girlie, girlie! Oh Anna, Anna! I think I made you believe that I can touch the sky. **** You think that I can touch the sky. Oh girlie, girlie! I'm not that cynical ! You see my problem is this, band people, Wishing I had a rainbow mouth . Oh girlie, girlie! Oh Meghan, Meghan! Oh Rebecca, Rebecca! Oh Daniel, Daniel! Oh Anna, Anna! I must confess, I still believe (still believe), That I can crash to the ground! Give me a sign, To give me the clap Meghan one more time!
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Jun 13, 2014
Jun 13, 2014 at 10:50 PM UTC
To Give Me The Clap Meghan One More Time
I hate my memory When it notices the date is a six, Because that's the day we built a love out of sticks. I hate my hair When it's long enough to flutter down to my chest, Because that's when you thought it looked the best. I hate my songs When one that I edited the lyrics of plays, Because it reminds me of those happy days. I hate my words When they remind me of yours, Because they can make a person crawl on all fours. I hate my mood When it reminds me of how I felt dealing with you, Because my face is red with rage but I feel so blue. But before I say adieu, I have one final hate for you. I hate my poems When they're written about you, Miss Meghan Green, Because they're so obscene.
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Jul 26, 2013
Jul 26, 2013 at 2:54 PM UTC
The Truths of Meghan Green
. The Firm. The stiff, the taut and the firm, unyielding unbending uncaring. Maligning of Meghan, Palace escape goat, sins of empire came back to haunt them. Di and Dye, the indelible stains of a royal banner. Remove *The Harp, we want no part of it. Ryan O'Leary. 31st Dec 2022
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Dec 30, 2022
Dec 30, 2022 at 5:20 AM UTC
----New Years Wish*----
please, try me I have nothing left to lose and nothing left to prove ***** I've been bending over backwards all for you **** you I'm through I don't ever want to see another inch of you or hear another word from you you see this? these ******* scars? I've got close to a thousand thanks to you yes you take the ******* blame for once you told me while I was lying on the tracks "I'd be better off" so I took those pills to numb my thoughts and grant your ******* wish for me to be dead and buried deep beneath then you can't even take responsibility for what you ******* said to me you coward you were too busy ******* meghan e to be bothered so **** you I'm through I don't ever want to see another inch of you or hear another word from you
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Mar 5, 2012
Mar 5, 2012 at 9:03 PM UTC
Done
Tucked away in a corner, lay a wooden ruler blending in with the past. Flat as a floorboard and weathered as a dock. There are layers of built-up ink, graphite, marker and paint along one of its long  edges—the side with the incrementation, naturally. As though differentiation demands to be marked. Deep, erratic gouges from the seven and three-quarters to eleven inch mark suggest a moment of frustration—perhaps a project under the gun or a predisposition to flying off the handle. On its back are ten “safety rules” geared towards teaching children how to avoid dangerous missteps with strangers. Things like: “Never Hitchhike—NEVER!”, or “Never Tell Callers That You’re Home Alone” and “Never Accept Toys, Candy, Rides, Money or Medicine From Strangers”. However well-intentioned this small piece of wood may have been, the owner used a thick, black marker to write “MEGhan’s ruler” across them and actually painted over two rules with it—namely: “Always Play or Walk With Friends” and “Never Give Your Name or Address To A Stranger”. Additionally, there is a line etched through the safety in “safety rules” as well as the same blacked-out treatment given to the other end with the two rules. This person was clearly a child and, most probably, was more worried about other kids taking her stuff than getting kidnapped by a stranger. Yet here lies the ruler with no account of Meghan’s current whereabouts or condition. Needless to say, one cannot rule out the intervention of a stranger in her life at some point. On the other hand, maybe she just got tired of measuring things.
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Sep 16, 2025
Sep 16, 2025 at 6:18 PM UTC
stranger ruler
Tucked away in a corner, lay a wooden ruler blending in with the past. Flat as a floorboard and weathered as a dock. There are layers of built-up ink, graphite, marker and paint along one of its long  edges—the side with the incrementation, naturally. As though differentiation demands to be marked. Deep, erratic gouges from the seven and three-quarters to eleven inch mark suggest a moment of frustration—perhaps a project under the gun or a predisposition to flying off the handle. On its back are ten “safety rules” geared towards teaching children how to avoid dangerous missteps with strangers. Things like: “Never Hitchhike—NEVER!”, or “Never Tell Callers That You’re Home Alone” and “Never Accept Toys, Candy, Rides, Money or Medicine From Strangers”. However well-intentioned this small piece of wood may have been, the owner used a thick, black marker to write “MEGhan’s ruler” across them and actually painted over two rules with it—namely: “Always Play or Walk With Friends” and “Never Give Your Name or Address To A Stranger”. Additionally, there is a line etched through the safety in “safety rules” as well as the same blacked-out treatment given to the other end with the two rules. This person was clearly a child and, most probably, was more worried about other kids taking her stuff than getting kidnapped by a stranger. Yet here lies the ruler with no account of Meghan’s current whereabouts or condition. Needless to say, one cannot rule out the intervention of a stranger in her life at some point. On the other hand, maybe she just got tired of measuring things.
Continue reading...
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Rachel and Adrian met at a barbecue Kate and Jake at summer camp Marlin and Samuel have been together since second grade All of this unplanned True love arrives and once there Turns into forever Garrick went to the home of a childhood friend Meghan was there Seven years later they married Amy and Wayne met through mutual friends You just never know where and when it will happen Somehow it always does Then there's Emma and Benjamin, She went on 116 dates, almost a lost cause she thought It was only his third date off the internet, but they took These are announcements in the newspaper on this very day How the married couples met To the world they are now united This is about the get They went all the way Meet Nora and Samuel, who both worked at a sandwich shop They took off in a car to see the states, platonic at the start A first kiss led to many more, now they are of one heart It was a dinner party for Kelly and David Nathalie and Max met at Georgetown U So the only question remaining Is when it will happen to you?
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Sep 14, 2016
Sep 14, 2016 at 10:59 AM UTC
Announcements
Peter (my bf) flew away early this morning, like Shakespeare’s eagle, “leaving no tracks.” Now I lie here, as a leftover or Millais’ drowned ‘Ophelia’. That’s an image ripped from adolescent, female visual culture. Time‘s adversarial magic drags us ever future-wise, eroding sweet moments we would cling to. Shall we poetize? I want a quiet afternoon, on the bright side of the moon. It’s an actual-factual place, convenient, in close outer space, like mythical Elysium, Shangri-La or Valhalla where I’d still be intertwined with my fella, like characters from literature or legend. A place where “I’ll get to it tomorrow,” is, alas, an everlasting pass, because on the dusty, unreeling moon, tomorrow never arrives, our lovers never have to go, and we can relax, ******** clothed, simply enjoying the everlasting earthrise. . . Songs for this: To The Moon by Meghan Trainor Moon River by Frank Ocean
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Oct 6, 2024
Oct 6, 2024 at 3:50 PM UTC
leftover