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"mungo" poems
On this side of the bridge, Between time and eternity, A foothill to the Necropolis, Rises the cathedral. The remains of St. Kentigern Maintain it, the founding Father. The spire tops the cruciform Pointing the way to Glorify. Within, walls are embedded With plagues, standards and swords, Praising foreign campaigns And distant expeditions Of long lost brave hearts. Pilgrims stand silently; Tourists nod quietly, Pointing at remarkable achievements Of Empire, and the young, Beatified on distant lands. The fading banners protest: For this I gave my all, my best. The stones are cold, The windows stained: In the crypt, St. Mungo lies, The foundation of all That died.
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Nov 7, 2015
Nov 7, 2015 at 10:50 AM UTC
Glasgow Cathedral
nana, my love for you is immeasurable. i hold you with fierce love, packed into a brief and firm hug. i try to put all those years of pure love you've had for me and this entire family in a quick brush of my lips to your cheek. i hold you as if it was the last. i've never felt more joy than seeing you at the dinner table, smiling when i gave you some of the hot cocoa i made. hot cocoa, i know. it probably meant nothing to you, just another night at the dinner table. but in that moment, i understood. i made that hot cocoa with love and i understood why you spent all those years on your feet, hunched over a huge *** of tinola. sinigang. mungo. pancit. i understood the love you put into everything you do, paralleling the love you have for this family. i remember your face lighting up after taking that first sip. you're diabetic, believe me, i know. sugar is a privilege and your diet is strict. seeing you, with your hands wrapped around the mug and your smile lighting up your eyes. i saw youth. i saw happiness. you laughed. and i did too. i know i haven't been the greatest granddaughter to you, and i'm sure i'll think of 500 ways i've wronged you in the future. but i just want to immortalize my sentiment, even if you'll never read this. i know i've strayed from tradition. i know i've took the opposite fork in the road. i know i'm not who you hoped i would be. but i also know that regardless you're still proud and that you love me. i just want you to know how much i love you too. and how i hope you understand. i love you.
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Jan 23, 2016
Jan 23, 2016 at 2:41 AM UTC
a letter to my grandmother
nana, my love for you is immeasurable. i hold you with fierce love, packed into a brief and firm hug. i try to put all those years of pure love you've had for me and this entire family in a quick brush of my lips to your cheek. i hold you as if it was the last. i've never felt more joy than seeing you at the dinner table, smiling when i gave you some of the hot cocoa i made. hot cocoa, i know. it probably meant nothing to you, just another night at the dinner table. but in that moment, i understood. i made that hot cocoa with love and i understood why you spent all those years on your feet, hunched over a huge *** of tinola. sinigang. mungo. pancit. i understood the love you put into everything you do, paralleling the love you have for this family. i remember your face lighting up after taking that first sip. you're diabetic, believe me, i know. sugar is a privilege and your diet is strict. seeing you, with your hands wrapped around the mug and your smile lighting up your eyes. i saw youth. i saw happiness. you laughed. and i did too. i know i haven't been the greatest granddaughter to you, and i'm sure i'll think of 500 ways i've wronged you in the future. but i just want to immortalize my sentiment, even if you'll never read this. i know i've strayed from tradition. i know i've took the opposite fork in the road. i know i'm not who you hoped i would be. but i also know that regardless you're still proud and that you love me. i just want you to know how much i love you too. and how i hope you understand. i love you.
Continue reading...
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You spit on the pavement You sit like a seat You walk on your tip toes You latch like a leech You rhyme like a mime You sing like a mute You dance like the legless You glide like a boot You trip over cracks You fail like a stock You fumble words like a drunk Youre as holy as a sock You fit to get in You lie to see truth You disobey like a sin You rot like a tooth You compete for first You come in last You try over and over again You grow up too fast You is you and you You is me and he You is mungo jerry You is James dean You is everyone You construct common mistakes You are he as he is glee You can make what anyone makes You were painted in a picture And we all joined for this cup of tea You are all what we can be as we are all what you can be
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Mar 9, 2012
Mar 9, 2012 at 10:11 PM UTC
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