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"mingle" poems
O'er the midnight moorlands crying, Thro' the cypress forests sighing, In the night-wind madly flying, Hellish forms with streaming hair; In the barren branches creaking, By the stagnant swamp-pools speaking, Past the shore-cliffs ever shrieking, Damn'd demons of despair. Once, I think I half remember, Ere the grey skies of November Quench'd my youth's aspiring ember, Liv'd there such a thing as bliss; Skies that now are dark were beaming, Bold and azure, splendid seeming Till I learn'd it all was dreaming — Deadly drowsiness of Dis. But the stream of Time, swift flowing, Brings the torment of half-knowing — Dimly rushing, blindly going Past the never-trodden lea; And the voyager, repining, Sees the wicked death-fires shining, Hears the wicked petrel's whining As he helpless drifts to sea. Evil wings in ether beating; Vultures at the spirit eating; Things unseen forever fleeting Black against the leering sky. Ghastly shades of bygone gladness, Clawing fiends of future sadness, Mingle in a cloud of madness Ever on the soul to lie. Thus the living, lone and sobbing, In the throes of anguish throbbing, With the loathsome Furies robbing Night and noon of peace and rest. But beyond the groans and grating Of abhorrent Life, is waiting Sweet Oblivion, culminating All the years of fruitless quest.
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26k
Despair
You were born of oceans, glacial upheavals melting a temperate forest of raining seas I climbed your stair step moss to see night stars mingle with fir trees I watched through the night only sleeping when stars did, when birds came echoing through your woods, at first light, in mists of fog verily I slept in forest song
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Jul 4, 2012
Jul 4, 2012 at 12:33 PM UTC
Rainforest
looking at sedona red rock layered majesties against bright, cerulean sky and marshmallow clouds droplets dripping, pecking our cheeks sitting on the balcony of a casita holding hands with my peace surrounded by forest green and buzzing honey bees they mingle with the flowers and i mingle with my peace
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Jul 11, 2018
Jul 11, 2018 at 1:30 AM UTC
on the casita balcony
Here in the desert it's been raining on and off             for days making the succulents and cacti glisten with wetness their thick skin sparkles and catches nature's ironic eye flowers and plants shine so much better in the half-grey Here in the prehistoric depths Of rocky whitewash and silt              flash floods rush through flushing out all guilt          And inside a raging storm commences and I feel so blessed to be a part of this celebration my lungs expanding in my chest I breathe in deep that fresh purity of air let it cleanse right through me from my toes up to my hair It rushes in my body taking no prisoners in its force flows through every vein cleansing poisons in its course its power flows into me washing out this stubborn pain Turning the confusion                      into clarity again From inside subconscious thoughts            realization thunders rinsing from my mind                  the emotional strain and replacing it with euphoric wonders Come, my raging desert tempest Bathe me        penetrate me with wet restore and purify my being take over and disinfect let me feel my own strength until it pours out from my cells into the space inside my heart where love and lust still dwell My tears mingle with the sweet drops                 as I fling arms open to the sky releasing strikes of lightening for every word I cry as I summon, pray for lightness mixed with the sturdiness of earth Let joy rise up and bubble within my being as rebirth
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Apr 13, 2016
Apr 13, 2016 at 11:02 AM UTC
Desert Tempest
Here in the desert it's been raining on and off             for days making the succulents and cacti glisten with wetness their thick skin sparkles and catches nature's ironic eye flowers and plants shine so much better in the half-grey Here in the prehistoric depths Of rocky whitewash and silt              flash floods rush through flushing out all guilt          And inside a raging storm commences and I feel so blessed to be a part of this celebration my lungs expanding in my chest I breathe in deep that fresh purity of air let it cleanse right through me from my toes up to my hair It rushes in my body taking no prisoners in its force flows through every vein cleansing poisons in its course its power flows into me washing out this stubborn pain Turning the confusion                      into clarity again From inside subconscious thoughts            realization thunders rinsing from my mind                  the emotional strain and replacing it with euphoric wonders Come, my raging desert tempest Bathe me        penetrate me with wet restore and purify my being take over and disinfect let me feel my own strength until it pours out from my cells into the space inside my heart where love and lust still dwell My tears mingle with the sweet drops                 as I fling arms open to the sky releasing strikes of lightening for every word I cry as I summon, pray for lightness mixed with the sturdiness of earth Let joy rise up and bubble within my being as rebirth
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55
Live in the shadows And flee from the sun, An army of rebels Marching as one. Mingle your voice With the other outcasts, Your single goal Is to simply outlast.
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Apr 22, 2014
Apr 22, 2014 at 12:29 PM UTC
Shadow Orphans
. And her arms enfold me, I lay my cheek against her breast. The shaking starts, the tears fall, as sobs emerge unhindered. Cries from way down deep, and I hear her heart, slow, steady, metronomic. So I follow its rhythm along a path richly bathed in warm sunlight. Through an archway and across a threshold shrine, the cemetery of the Ancients. A hundred thousand names, carved in marble, adorned with statues and plinths. Holding knowledge of old, and the sound of silence, like an abandoned library. The shadow of love hovers close, driving through midnight mists and leading me on. Practising narrative necromancy, reanimating old words, giving them life newly born, upon the first carved marbles, its names burnished with wisdom, and the anonymity of obscurity. There glows one name in forgotten script and I know my deepest identity, the weight of the aeons flows free into my mind, histories of the millennia. I know my Forest Lady holds secrets that belong to me. And she gestates them all, a coveted pregnancy. A path-working, an etherical dream, and her heart skips a beat, as another part of me crumbles and dies, to mingle with the dust of ancient knowledge. © Pagan Paul (11/07/18)
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Jul 12, 2018
Jul 12, 2018 at 2:51 PM UTC
My Forest Lady Holds Secrets
All these kids, They cry, Scream, And ***** "I WANT FREEDOM FROM MY PARENTS!" That simple freedom does not concern me. I want freedom, but not just from my parents so I can stay out late. I want freedom, From my peers, From my family, From the government, And from myself. I want to be free to walk down the halls, Hand in hand with a girl, Who I'm in love with. I want to be able to do that, With no fear in my heart. No worries or names called, Or punches thrown. I want that freedom. I want the freedom to be able to bring a girl home, And show her to my parents, And tell her how much I love her, In front of them. I want to be able to talk to my mom, About relationship problems, About the GIRL who broke my heart, But I cant. I want the freedom to marry. To marry any person I choose, No matter the gender. Male, Or female, It should not matter. My happiness, And the way I spend my life, Is not something that should be voted on, By those with half a brain. I want freedom from myself, To accept me, And be who I am, Without any shame. But I can't do that, Unless I have the freedom from others, To be me, And be happy with that. I want the freedom to be gay. Some may complain, That the gays are already free, Too much maybe. But that is not the case. We're not persecuted, But we're not free. All throughout history there has been movements for freedom. There was one of religious freedom, When puritans came to the New World from Britain. A war was started, And freedom came out with a victory. There was one of freedom for slaves, So that they could live the lives they wanted, And not have to be owned, And treated like property, By another human being. Once again, A war was started, And the slaves were freed. There was one of freedom for women, So that women could be the same as men, Equals. There were marches, And protests, And women rights came out on top. There was one of freedom for those of color, So that they can mix, And mingle, With the race that whites thought was superior. There were marches, And sit ins, Protests, And brawls, But guess who won in the end? We are working towards freedom of LGBTQ, lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, questioning/queer, And one way or another, We will eventually get our freedom. Look at all these past freedom movements, There were always two sides to it. Which side are you on? Is it the right one? This is not the land of the free and the home of the brave. This is the land of the *** ******* cowards, And the home of the "You can be free, if we allow it." I think its about time we either lived up to our motto, Or changed it.
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Jan 2, 2014
Jan 2, 2014 at 11:14 PM UTC
Freedom
All these kids, They cry, Scream, And ***** "I WANT FREEDOM FROM MY PARENTS!" That simple freedom does not concern me. I want freedom, but not just from my parents so I can stay out late. I want freedom, From my peers, From my family, From the government, And from myself. I want to be free to walk down the halls, Hand in hand with a girl, Who I'm in love with. I want to be able to do that, With no fear in my heart. No worries or names called, Or punches thrown. I want that freedom. I want the freedom to be able to bring a girl home, And show her to my parents, And tell her how much I love her, In front of them. I want to be able to talk to my mom, About relationship problems, About the GIRL who broke my heart, But I cant. I want the freedom to marry. To marry any person I choose, No matter the gender. Male, Or female, It should not matter. My happiness, And the way I spend my life, Is not something that should be voted on, By those with half a brain. I want freedom from myself, To accept me, And be who I am, Without any shame. But I can't do that, Unless I have the freedom from others, To be me, And be happy with that. I want the freedom to be gay. Some may complain, That the gays are already free, Too much maybe. But that is not the case. We're not persecuted, But we're not free. All throughout history there has been movements for freedom. There was one of religious freedom, When puritans came to the New World from Britain. A war was started, And freedom came out with a victory. There was one of freedom for slaves, So that they could live the lives they wanted, And not have to be owned, And treated like property, By another human being. Once again, A war was started, And the slaves were freed. There was one of freedom for women, So that women could be the same as men, Equals. There were marches, And protests, And women rights came out on top. There was one of freedom for those of color, So that they can mix, And mingle, With the race that whites thought was superior. There were marches, And sit ins, Protests, And brawls, But guess who won in the end? We are working towards freedom of LGBTQ, lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, questioning/queer, And one way or another, We will eventually get our freedom. Look at all these past freedom movements, There were always two sides to it. Which side are you on? Is it the right one? This is not the land of the free and the home of the brave. This is the land of the *** ******* cowards, And the home of the "You can be free, if we allow it." I think its about time we either lived up to our motto, Or changed it.
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94
my girl loves a girl they kiss all the time candy melts an sugar **** oh god it's sublime glitter pink feet arched sometimes its a show they do it all night mouths ******* tongues fire and light wet drool kisses sweet voices tingle **** brushing lips voluptuous mingle butter and ***** coos and weeping ***** tears they dance and they wiggle im the king of Siam both come to me im the luckiest man the god of ****
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Jan 14, 2017
Jan 14, 2017 at 11:00 AM UTC
The Second Girl
You were born of oceans, glacial upheavals melting a temperate forest of raining seas I climbed your stair step moss to see night stars mingle with fir trees I watched through the night only sleeping when stars did, when birds came echoing through your woods, at first light, in mists of fog I slept dreamily in forest song
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Nov 17, 2014
Nov 17, 2014 at 9:06 AM UTC
Rainforest
let's you and I mingle with the tantalizing Sirens their Song, so seductive, will distract you while I lead Odysseus to our spacious secret cave which-- I have newly prepared with Calypso's blessing [I dare say she seems to have a crush on my Odysseus!]
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Sep 25, 2014
Sep 25, 2014 at 12:10 AM UTC
Swingers
Flickering light, images flow by of cats and vamps and wolves on the sly the undead tango with the dead oh.. the books I have not read. When something happens, something small turns the whole place withall popcorn doesn't pop no more it's all a matter of blood and gore. For when in the jungle, the quiet jungle the lion roars tonight the baser beasts fail to mingle and move out of MY sight!
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Jul 24, 2015
Jul 24, 2015 at 12:11 PM UTC
The Quiet Jungle
I have studied the tight curls on the back of your neck moving away from me beyond anger or failure your face in the evening schools of longing through mornings of wish and ripen we were always saying goodbye in the blood in the bone over coffee before dashing for elevators going in opposite directions without goodbyes. Do not remember me as a bridge nor a roof as the maker of legends nor as a trap door to that world where black and white clericals hang on the edge of beauty in five oclock elevators twitching their shoulders to avoid other flesh and now there is someone to speak for them moving away from me into tomorrows morning of wish and ripen your goodbye is a promise of lightning in the last angels hand unwelcome and warning the sands have run out against us we were rewarded by journeys into desire into mornings alone where excuse and endurance mingle conceiving decision. Do not remember me as disaster nor as the keeper of secrets I am a fellow rider in the cattle cars watching you move slowly out of my bed saying we cannot waste time only ourselves.
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7.9k
Movement Song
Gatsby, Gatsby, oh you protagonist young man; To work for a millionaire and be a soldier. To do criminal activity just for a single girl Who once did love you but never will again. With all your fabulous wealth and fame; In that mansion you live in filled with Goth Having lavishing parties on late Saturday nights; Not to mingle but to look, to look for her. Living in the West Egg with a distant view Of a lake in front to separate you and your love. Only a light of green to comfort your loneliness; With a friend as your only connection to them. You are the mysterious type of man that you are. A person whom no one knows where he is from, What he does in life or how he makes his fortune. But in reality you are from a farm in North Dakota. You are also a flawed, dishonest, and ****** man; Lie about your past and the name that people know. Left your farm life at age 17 to change who you were; Forgot your name as Jimmy Gatz to become Jay Gatsby. Jay Gatsby, Jimmy Gatz, you did this for your love; For the love you had for Miss Daisy Buchanan, for her. As a man, you were known to be extraordinary optimism; For you were determine to take your dream and make it a reality. The dream that you had of only you and her. A dream that was too far from reality; So far that it blinded you from true reality. This dream is what brought death upon you. For Jay Gatsby and Jimmy Gatz are one and the same. Both blinded by love for Miss Daisy Buchanan. Both determine to change their social status Both dreamt a dream that would not come true. But yet both denied the truth of themselves. For this brought the death and the heartache Of a father who knew so little of his only son. For a friend who truly knew nothing of him at all.
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Dec 2, 2018
Dec 2, 2018 at 3:49 PM UTC
Gatsby : The Man
Gatsby, Gatsby, oh you protagonist young man; To work for a millionaire and be a soldier. To do criminal activity just for a single girl Who once did love you but never will again. With all your fabulous wealth and fame; In that mansion you live in filled with Goth Having lavishing parties on late Saturday nights; Not to mingle but to look, to look for her. Living in the West Egg with a distant view Of a lake in front to separate you and your love. Only a light of green to comfort your loneliness; With a friend as your only connection to them. You are the mysterious type of man that you are. A person whom no one knows where he is from, What he does in life or how he makes his fortune. But in reality you are from a farm in North Dakota. You are also a flawed, dishonest, and ****** man; Lie about your past and the name that people know. Left your farm life at age 17 to change who you were; Forgot your name as Jimmy Gatz to become Jay Gatsby. Jay Gatsby, Jimmy Gatz, you did this for your love; For the love you had for Miss Daisy Buchanan, for her. As a man, you were known to be extraordinary optimism; For you were determine to take your dream and make it a reality. The dream that you had of only you and her. A dream that was too far from reality; So far that it blinded you from true reality. This dream is what brought death upon you. For Jay Gatsby and Jimmy Gatz are one and the same. Both blinded by love for Miss Daisy Buchanan. Both determine to change their social status Both dreamt a dream that would not come true. But yet both denied the truth of themselves. For this brought the death and the heartache Of a father who knew so little of his only son. For a friend who truly knew nothing of him at all.
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36
Come let’s squeeze in while the sphere’s moon-lit cheek turns her other sunny-cheek. Come let’s mingle in the splash   while the sunup basks in swims across the dewy green.   Come let’s try it again while we are alive and breathing   there is a time for everything. Come let’s be creative no ocean is deep while a pearl shines in the seashell. A handful of earth is wrapped in the midst of a colossal airy space,   there is still a wonder in ****** green!
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Jun 12, 2017
Jun 12, 2017 at 10:38 AM UTC
****** Green
Pervert I'm a womanizer and a pervert, love to mingle, love to flirt. Like Fonzi, all chicks flock, they like the size of my clock. Ever since I was born, loved naked women and **** Nothing like playing with my favorite toy, with the newest edition of ******* Sorry I have a ***** little mind, all men do, women don't be blind. Lots of women have tried to convert me, but a fun loving pervert, I will always be. Been with a **** been with a ***** only difference is, the **** wants more. Been with singers, actresses and models, done it underwater, with a snorkel and goggles. Been with a doctor, lawyer and a crook, each time, I somehow got took. I'm a pervert it a good way, just some innocent ****** foreplay. If you ever see me, I'm not threat, they haven't invented x-ray glasses yet. I now have a woman I really love, all other women, I got rid of, Gave my black book to a kid named Bieber, now he's in jail and feeling very eager.
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Jan 30, 2014
Jan 30, 2014 at 12:04 PM UTC
Pervert
beautiful towers crescent moon under the bridge we hid from few outlookers who saw us hand in hand oh sue, nevermind next to you, I'll always stand you said, "emily look out" they can't catch us when we're on the periphery of your town flower braids and hazy smiles playing hide and seek up till a peculiar height sue you do a lot of things you say things so lovely the only name ever dancing on your tongue should be "emily" harnessing a lot of love my tongue's still tied, your face is unsure tracing a pattern and making it travel through your moles sue please dont give in my heart's still beating they can't know about us and if they do come with me to the land of cottagecore and if you say no then these all will be my questions, "why would you touch me in a way your touch will linger?" "why would you leave your best friends for a wine and some mingle?" "why would you risk your life when i know your feelings dont fickle?" "why would you gift me that pendant made of gold and covered in nickel?" "why would you choose your abundant hours to teach me how to whistle?" oh Sue, i know you will never say no just know, if you ever say yes its you forever and ever and ever more.
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Mar 27, 2021
Mar 27, 2021 at 7:42 PM UTC
Sue
Our tears touch- They mingle And smear together, Becoming one; Tiny vials of our soul- In the form of tears, Each half empty, Until they meet as one. Our lips kiss, Sparks fly, To and from, joining, Becoming one. Our souls leap To meet each other, To send sparks, To announce the union. Tears we cry, Kisses we give, All are glimpses Of our souls, Finally meeting ever so Slowly but surely They mingle And caress. Yours and mine, That have searched For each other For all time. Let the tears flow, Let the kisses rain, For you have found me And I have found you. For our tears mingle, Our kisses send sparks; They speak to the heart: You and I are Soulmates.
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Jul 3, 2013
Jul 3, 2013 at 9:38 PM UTC
Soulmates
Some Jamie snugly in me hand, A cause for celebration, Today, I found me promised land: The home of Irish nation. I dyed me hair shamrock green, I made me teeth look orange, (A spliff of Carroll's in between) A sliver of Dutch courage. I mingle with the leprechauns (A shamrock on me chest) Not in a thousand years gone, I’m messing with the best. Atop the jolly rainbow, In hand – a *** of gold, Revering, till I find me rest, The stories I’ve been told.
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Mar 18, 2018
Mar 18, 2018 at 2:49 AM UTC
Paddy
Genial poets, pink-faced earnest wits— you have given the world some choice morsels, gobbets of language presented as one presents T-bone steak and Cherries Jubilee. Goodbye, goodbye, I don’t care if I never taste your fine food again, neutral fellows, seers of every side. Tolerance, what crimes are committed in your name. And you, good women, bakers of nicest bread, blood donors. Your crumbs choke me, I would not want a drop of your blood in me, it is pumped by weak hearts, perfect pulses that never falter: irresponsive to nightmare reality. It is my brothers, my sisters, whose blood spurts out and stops forever because you choose to believe it is not your business. Goodbye, goodbye, your poems shut their little mouths, your loaves grow moldy, a gulf has split the ground between us, and you won’t wave, you’re looking another way. We shan’t meet again— unless you leap it, leaving behind you the cherished worms of your dispassion, your pallid ironies, your jovial, murderous, wry-humored balanced judgment, leap over, un- balanced? ... then how our fanatic tears would flow and mingle for joy ...
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5.3k
Goodbye To Tolerance
*She wants to feel the softness of feathers upon the tips of her toes Reaching out for comfort that will surely come Caresses the moments before midnight With suger kisses so sweet Like honey coated forgiveness She smiles into her lovers eyes of crystal dew Beyond Her sences reeling Twirling, dancing Like the figurine within an ancient music box As the music surrounds the childs mind so pure And yet There is more captured within The sweetness is soured only by memories She paints with fingers in the suger To forget There are things so worth forgetting She sees him sleeping and places mirrors where his eyes once looked upon her For now she will see herself The way he see's The blood from the girl child dried as he slept There was to be no more sugered moments No more honey for him to savour she had seen Her worth in his eyes Such a shame sweet child She should of loved herself with toes touching feathers Reaching for a comfort That would only be found in forgiveness of self Far beyond the place he sleeps With mirrored eyes of crystal dew He awakes to find his beloved drenthed in death He reaches for moments which never come Her projection of him so false upon this moment As in a moments seperation She sees with her angel presence The suger he tastes on lips so pure His tears now mingle with the blood As he tears her mirrors from his eyes He understands not The reason Why white feathers are falling from the sky*
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Sep 16, 2011
Sep 16, 2011 at 6:28 PM UTC
She wants to feel the softness of feathers
Walking through woodland, Sunlight dancing through branches, I find myself beside a stream, My mind wandering, wondering, Exploring love on the edge of time. My thoughts tumble over rocks, Caught in water’s swirl and eddy, A leaf that's fallen free, floating by, Carried by flowing water, turning, Searching out my broken dream. I've walked this path for years, Hearing the wind calling my name, Rustling in the sad weeping trees, Tears mingle with the stream, a leaf, Part of me, writhes in a broken dream. © Paul Chafer 2014
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Mar 25, 2014
Mar 25, 2014 at 7:34 AM UTC
Woodland Dream
Surround me now, LOVE, like linkage From beauty to the belly-button of the beast. Umbelli me here my dear, let me feast My eyes on your whole from the inside out. Your flesh and bone, tan-toned complexion Is ******* with my pheromones. I crave your privacy; forbidden zones Between ticklish toes and feather pillows We'll mingle moments and non-moments of Equal weightless ness. A shared glass of milkwith your lips lingering A lazy-fond sofa-based simmering. A clinging a crumpling of breath accidental Harmony undressed by a simple - YES
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Feb 27, 2011
Feb 27, 2011 at 2:03 AM UTC
Of LOVE
I don’t know where you fly to at nite. I’m certain to all that I love. Do you glow with the moonlite? Or float in the heavens up above? Do you hang with the stars in the sky? Or gaze at them from the meadow below? Do you give me a kiss goodbye? Or just in the morning to say hello? Maybe you grow with the tree garden, Or sleep with the lions of my sign, Where is it you go wanderin’ Little soul of mine? I wonder if you go back To the dawning of your days. I wonder when was that? Or were you here always? Maybe you go to my future, Setting it straight for me, You’ve had great judgment so far As the holder of my life’s key Do you mingle with other souls? You must be looking for your perfect mate So you’re not lonely on such twilight strolls Wherever it is that you go so late.
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Jun 24, 2014
Jun 24, 2014 at 2:31 AM UTC
Wandering Soul
Turn da bottles upside down The bingo linggo is right up here No need to estimate Ain't show 'em what you got Coz the feminine swag is right in front of you Hit da spot,break 'em low Erbody's on the floor,hot & cold The center of attraction is here we go Sweat like it's the end of the court Make some noise,the battle is not yet done Here is the piece of my paper Sonnet to Haiku,get 'em yours While i make my lyrics out of it I bet you to sing this song Coz It's you that I crack the most Fly high coz im so high This super legacy of mine Is not yet over,bring me to the court And I'll make you cry while you can run Too fast to drift out of your collateral words ***** bootsy,shakin' ya ***** The tingga ling, bling bling mingle naw to da floor Ain't gonna lose coz this **** got me pumpin' Now I can drop ya to the floor Coz it's fresh like a g6 Now I can flip ma hair to ya gorges face So wassup now! And you can tumblin' down to my feet Look what i've got, Its a brand new style Now spin it while you can And Open ya eyes coz dis ain't a dream Mine is a simple yet i can make you blown out of it From A to Z,the lines are getting ahead Loads of fans while I can make ma audience jump to their seats Scream to the screen,while I can star struck you to my voice Back Off now,while It's not too late
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Jan 24, 2013
Jan 24, 2013 at 1:25 AM UTC
Turn It Up (Gangsta Poet)