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"neared" poems
“T'was the night before Christmas ...” and Santa was busy. The reindeer were antsy the elves in a tizzy. The missus was tending the ovens like mad And turning out cookies to make children glad. The wood chips were flying the sawdust was thick The workshop was bulging with toys from St. Nick. Contractors from Sega, Nintendo and Sony Were working on games (and a robotic pony). Iphones and Ipads (with virus removal) Were packed in their boxes and stamped "Elf Approval". Last minute touches were added with flair While elf stylists tended to Santa's white hair. Elf tailors were making some last alterations To Santa's red coat and his waist tribulations. The weather was fair as the weather-elf stated The routes were approved and departure was slated. Bells had been polished and harnesses buffed While repairs were addressed for the hoofs that were scuffed. The antlers were festooned with ribbons and bells And the reindeer were covered with elf flying spells. The clock approached midnight as Santa was seated. The countdown began as the flight crew was greeted. H-hour neared and the tension was growing. Outside it grew cloudy and then, began snowing. But Santa just grinned as the weather-elf winced. "Don't worry, my friend.   Our time has commenced." For the weather was nothing to Santa's conveyance. His reindeer and sleigh were immune to"delay-ance". With a whirl of his whiskers and a flick of his wrist The reindeer were launched in a flash of white mist. And I heard him exclaim through his teleport ray: "ALERT TSA. Tell 'em I'm on my WAY!"
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Dec 22, 2017
Dec 22, 2017 at 9:27 AM UTC
T’was The Night Before Christmas
“T'was the night before Christmas ...” and Santa was busy. The reindeer were antsy the elves in a tizzy. The missus was tending the ovens like mad And turning out cookies to make children glad. The wood chips were flying the sawdust was thick The workshop was bulging with toys from St. Nick. Contractors from Sega, Nintendo and Sony Were working on games (and a robotic pony). Iphones and Ipads (with virus removal) Were packed in their boxes and stamped "Elf Approval". Last minute touches were added with flair While elf stylists tended to Santa's white hair. Elf tailors were making some last alterations To Santa's red coat and his waist tribulations. The weather was fair as the weather-elf stated The routes were approved and departure was slated. Bells had been polished and harnesses buffed While repairs were addressed for the hoofs that were scuffed. The antlers were festooned with ribbons and bells And the reindeer were covered with elf flying spells. The clock approached midnight as Santa was seated. The countdown began as the flight crew was greeted. H-hour neared and the tension was growing. Outside it grew cloudy and then, began snowing. But Santa just grinned as the weather-elf winced. "Don't worry, my friend.   Our time has commenced." For the weather was nothing to Santa's conveyance. His reindeer and sleigh were immune to"delay-ance". With a whirl of his whiskers and a flick of his wrist The reindeer were launched in a flash of white mist. And I heard him exclaim through his teleport ray: "ALERT TSA. Tell 'em I'm on my WAY!"
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64
there was a little cheetah he had a dream one day to run in the olympics in a land so far away he boarded on a plane and flew across the sea to a place in russia where the games would be he went to the track a runner he would be running in a marathon a sporty cat was he then the time had come for the cheetahs race he stood in a line and cheetah took his place now the race was on cheetah took it slow took it nice and easy with a steady flow they ran for quite a while the race was very long cheetah had a finish that was so very strong as the finish neared he come to the front then stepped us his speed like being on a hunt he went like a train like the speed of light and flew across the finish line with no one else in sight his mission it was over and his race one won he enjoyed his holiday that gave him so much fun
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Feb 7, 2014
Feb 7, 2014 at 5:23 PM UTC
olympic cheetah
O Thou who at Love’s hour ecstatically Unto my lips dost evermore present The body and blood of Love in sacrament; Whom I have neared and felt thy breath to be The inmost incense of his sanctuary; Who without speech hast owned him, and intent Upon his will, thy life with mine hast blent, And murmured o’er the cup, Remember me!— 0 what from thee the grace, for me the prize, And what to Love the glory,—when the whole Of the deep stair thou tread’st to the dim shoal And weary water of the place of sighs, And there dost work deliverance, as thine eyes Draw up my prisoned spirit to thy soul!
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7.2k
Redemption
Budging the sluggard ripples of the Somme, A barge round old Cérisy slowly slewed. Softly her engines down the current ******* And chuckled softly with contented hum, Till fairy tinklings struck their croonings dumb. The waters rumpling at the stern subdued; The lock-gate took her bulging amplitude; Gently from out the gurgling lock she swum. One reading by that calm bank shaded eyes To watch her lessening westward quietly. Then, as she neared the bend, her funnel screamed. And that long lamentation made him wise How unto Avalon, in agony, Kings passed in the dark barge, which Merlin dreamed.
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4.3k
Hospital Barge
I remember the little men in big boots. The ones who sat at the edge of roof tops in a city called Loneliness, and cut their teeth while chewing jagged glass and angry truths. They parachuted down to earth and hit their heads on desperation. Hollowed out hearts with tree trunks serving as legs, they marched across the stratosphere until their existences neared zero. Nothing more to disappearing than popping some pills, falling asleep, and dreaming that the whole world had gone mad. The interesting part is when you wake up and you can still hear the echo of unfilled boots.
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Apr 12, 2014
Apr 12, 2014 at 12:59 AM UTC
xanax
I once was on an endless journey Of turning left and right, There was bramble all around me, only Nothing not alike. Though none were up above me I could not see the sky, All except my inner strength, I had been left alone to die. Deserted by the moon and stars, I was even without light, But desperate to be free again, I braved the endless night. Time escaped me, also I traveled a day, a week, a year, But my body never weakened, Nor hunger did I fear. Even if I neared the end I had no way to be sure, So, I promised myself it was close ahead, Just one more set of turns. But the exit never greeted me And disappointment, it grew strong I had broken so many promises, My credibility was gone. I could no longer reassure my mind, So I faced the truth instead, I prepared myself for eternity – And an endless path ahead.
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Jul 20, 2013
Jul 20, 2013 at 9:40 PM UTC
I Dreamt of Mazes
We laid eye to eye, a thousand thoughts raging through my head. Should I? I'd been waiting for so long to finally do it. Will I? I'd been building up the courage to finally do it. Can I? I'd tried to read you and see if you were finally ready. Am I? I hadn't thought about it before my lips finally neared yours. I will. And I finally did.
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Jun 10, 2014
Jun 10, 2014 at 9:44 PM UTC
Finally
She thought her outfit was beautiful when she put it on this morning. And it was. She donned the skirt with care, Kitten heels polished and perfect. Adjusting the turquoise blouse in the mirror, She brushed her hair, Put on her makeup, And left her apartment early for a stroll. She walked down the city street, Head up, shoulders back, A faint smile on her fresh face. But as she neared the crosswalk, She noticed the looks. First came the looks from the men. "Hey there, beautiful," one said. "Nice *** said another. She ignored them all, Choosing to cross to the other side of the street So that they couldn't try to touch her. Then came the looks from the women. **** she couldn't fit her fat *** into a minivan," said one. "Who does that ***** think she is, Walking around in that outfit?" Said another. She ignored them all, Choosing to keep her head down, So that they wouldn't think she was promiscuous. Finally, she noticed the looks from her co-workers. "Does that violate dress code?" Asked one. "If we had a dress code, it would," said another. She ignored them all, Choosing to head home early So that they wouldn't laugh at her. When she got back to the apartment, She took off the skirt, The polished kitten heels, And the turquoise blouse. She pulled on a pair of sweats, And decided to watch Netflix instead of Facing the cruel outside world.
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May 5, 2014
May 5, 2014 at 5:36 PM UTC
Kitten Heels
"Now when we had discovered Cyprus, we left it on the left hand."--Acts xxi. 3. "We sailed under Cyprus, because the winds were contrary."--Acts xxvii. 4. St. Barnabas, with John his sister's son, Set sail for Cyprus; leaving in their wake That chosen Vessel, who for Jesus' sake Proclaimed the Gentiles and the Jews at one. Divided while united, each must run His mighty course not hell should overtake; And pressing toward the mark must own the ache Of love, and sigh for heaven not yet begun. For saints in life-long exile yearn to touch Warm human hands, and commune face to face; But these we know not ever met again: Yet once St. Paul at distance overmuch Just sighted Cyprus; and once more in vain Neared it and passed;--not there his landing-place.
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3.4k
St. Barnabas
"Shh," she hushes me. I watch her close her mouth, then her eyes. But her very soul, she exposed to everyone, to me, in the auditorium. The music begins, and I literally see the intro of the song sink into her skin. I notice her shiver; not that i didn't want to put my arm around her to warm her up because it wasn't the temperature of the room. It was the music. She was feeling it. She is it. Her breathing to the piano's notes, her heart beat rhythmic to the dancing fingers on the keys: I can see it all. Her shoulders rising and falling-- "Oh," she softly speaks, pulling me out of my melodic reverie. "Did i just-- A tear, how silly of me to cry." But before she could wipe her cheek, I took her hand in mine and kissed the tear away. She had this confused look, but it soon melted as I neared her. She was not only music, she was a symphony. And every fiber of me was in tune with her, and there wasn't anything else in the room which I payed attention to.
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Mar 17, 2016
Mar 17, 2016 at 11:41 AM UTC
The Conductor's Orchestra
Gold shed upon suckling gold, The time of the bole blackens, Of the dark mounted through dapple, While in the sealed apple The seed cradled toward cold. A gold on gold spent, Put by from an elm in its years Now its gilded of days, Over turf’s dishevelment; Where all which is green sickens, All the fresh shall be sere. All which is green sickens, And it is but for a time Those embered veinings blaze A year’s delirium; Or neared of other space, Unportioned azure shall close One of more, and which is, One which goes. Let the little pupils that will, Of vision, gaze for salt To whet their gazing, wit In one weather is high From burrow and lair, by Nether providences’ default An all’s accrued. And apposite, beyond Such primer beholdings, has Its long accounting known The beetle’s morsel thus Was rich, and the slug’s bed on The oak’s generations, deep Over the lark’s bones. In slough of Edens fast Wit in one weather shall stand, While millennia nibble at The sensual apple Toppled it net, Plenty in the palm of the hand, And the fallen not fallen, not lost From out its certitude— For our unbeggaring Has been gross. Few and late To cherish an immoderate Wish, hope’s calculus, Love’s hope; few to miss, From natural tally ****** In the lime-girdled space Of choice, where alone Man can abandon what Is only his own; And in cold and tarrying Their rearisers sleep: While to the granite cheek Light’s purples bring Infinite their ministering, And past our finial And ragged crests, to keep Time’s ambient stood, Propose horizons from Their shadowy quarries; while, In an unwandered wood, Or under the indifferent foot, Is let fall, let fall a fruit, Through eternal leisures down, For but time’s unravelling.
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2.9k
Dirge At The Edge Of Woods
Gold shed upon suckling gold, The time of the bole blackens, Of the dark mounted through dapple, While in the sealed apple The seed cradled toward cold. A gold on gold spent, Put by from an elm in its years Now its gilded of days, Over turf’s dishevelment; Where all which is green sickens, All the fresh shall be sere. All which is green sickens, And it is but for a time Those embered veinings blaze A year’s delirium; Or neared of other space, Unportioned azure shall close One of more, and which is, One which goes. Let the little pupils that will, Of vision, gaze for salt To whet their gazing, wit In one weather is high From burrow and lair, by Nether providences’ default An all’s accrued. And apposite, beyond Such primer beholdings, has Its long accounting known The beetle’s morsel thus Was rich, and the slug’s bed on The oak’s generations, deep Over the lark’s bones. In slough of Edens fast Wit in one weather shall stand, While millennia nibble at The sensual apple Toppled it net, Plenty in the palm of the hand, And the fallen not fallen, not lost From out its certitude— For our unbeggaring Has been gross. Few and late To cherish an immoderate Wish, hope’s calculus, Love’s hope; few to miss, From natural tally ****** In the lime-girdled space Of choice, where alone Man can abandon what Is only his own; And in cold and tarrying Their rearisers sleep: While to the granite cheek Light’s purples bring Infinite their ministering, And past our finial And ragged crests, to keep Time’s ambient stood, Propose horizons from Their shadowy quarries; while, In an unwandered wood, Or under the indifferent foot, Is let fall, let fall a fruit, Through eternal leisures down, For but time’s unravelling.
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66
I got on the bus alone today and almost no one else was on it. As it neared our campus the setting sun hit the window so right, sending a golden corona across the dusty seats, bathing us all in this brilliant golden light. Brown eyes turned to honey, blue ones to oceans— a handful of minor gods and goddesses on their way to class, in sweatpants and backpacks. It was one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen. None of us wanted to pull the cord to stop, but finally, someone did, and I had to get off. I feel alive on the bus, I feel alone at midnight. I am the princess of the bus. I make my boyfriend Aiden worse without intending to. I make a lot of things worse without intending to. I think that if I just spent a lifetime on the bus, circling round and round at around 6:30 p.m. I would cause a lot less harm on this planet. But someone always pulls the cord, even if I don’t. Aidan won’t pull the cord and neither will I. We might be riding this bus for a long time yet.
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Oct 29, 2024
Oct 29, 2024 at 10:51 PM UTC
Princess of the Bus
This is the Fisherman's tale With a rod in hand and live bait in a pale, Of a day spent out on the beach And fish just a cast out of reach. The day started as any fisherman would Before the sun was up, when the fishing was good. He hopped on his bike and road the old trail Till he could smell the tides from the ocean gale. Today was the day, he could feel it in his bones He would bring food to his loved ones at home This was his day, he was so sure, With a brand new rod and a homemade lure. Cast after cast, hour by hour Time moved by until he started to sour All that time and not a single bite; Now clouds rolled in, black as night. The wind started whipping the sand all around Still the old fisherman stood his ground The storm was coming, in just a matter of time "I can't leave" he thought, "until that fish is mine." As the thunder boomed and lightning crashed, He decided to give just one more cast As the rain came down, soaking him through This was the one, he swore it was true. Waiting there patiently, slowly he'd reel Even if his legs he could no longer feel. When all of a sudden with a great flash he was able to tell that this was the cast. The line went tight as he threw back the rod  He was hooking this fish, he thought with a nod. The battle that followed was one terrible fight Fish verses man all through the night. And as the sunlight rose, marking the dawn, The fisherman still fought as the battle raged on. He wouldn't give up, he wouldn't let it go The fish was his, and he would soon let it know. The fish neared the shore jumping clear through the sky Only to get robbed off the hook by a seal passing by. The fisherman stood there, staring in awe "The seal stole my fish!" He thought dropping his jaw. "The fish it was huge, six feet at least," he would say "I fought it all day and night till that beast took it away" Yet no one believed him, they just called him a goof And scoffed, "how convenient it is, that you don't have any proof." Still this is The Fisherman's story After fishing all day and night on the beach One filled with unseen glories How he was one cast away from the catch of the week.
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Nov 19, 2015
Nov 19, 2015 at 12:37 PM UTC
The Fisherman's Story
This is the Fisherman's tale With a rod in hand and live bait in a pale, Of a day spent out on the beach And fish just a cast out of reach. The day started as any fisherman would Before the sun was up, when the fishing was good. He hopped on his bike and road the old trail Till he could smell the tides from the ocean gale. Today was the day, he could feel it in his bones He would bring food to his loved ones at home This was his day, he was so sure, With a brand new rod and a homemade lure. Cast after cast, hour by hour Time moved by until he started to sour All that time and not a single bite; Now clouds rolled in, black as night. The wind started whipping the sand all around Still the old fisherman stood his ground The storm was coming, in just a matter of time "I can't leave" he thought, "until that fish is mine." As the thunder boomed and lightning crashed, He decided to give just one more cast As the rain came down, soaking him through This was the one, he swore it was true. Waiting there patiently, slowly he'd reel Even if his legs he could no longer feel. When all of a sudden with a great flash he was able to tell that this was the cast. The line went tight as he threw back the rod  He was hooking this fish, he thought with a nod. The battle that followed was one terrible fight Fish verses man all through the night. And as the sunlight rose, marking the dawn, The fisherman still fought as the battle raged on. He wouldn't give up, he wouldn't let it go The fish was his, and he would soon let it know. The fish neared the shore jumping clear through the sky Only to get robbed off the hook by a seal passing by. The fisherman stood there, staring in awe "The seal stole my fish!" He thought dropping his jaw. "The fish it was huge, six feet at least," he would say "I fought it all day and night till that beast took it away" Yet no one believed him, they just called him a goof And scoffed, "how convenient it is, that you don't have any proof." Still this is The Fisherman's story After fishing all day and night on the beach One filled with unseen glories How he was one cast away from the catch of the week.
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48
now see, once again I write to you the sun wasn't shining and the sky wasn't blue... I met you on the route and feel you shrug carelessly I handshake where I had to hug... and walked beside you till you were fine and all this time, the happiness was all mine... and the next I did was to sit where you sit what do you know, intentionally I came close a bit... and all I did was to sit beside you and think with you in my head, only about you without a blink... the day passed and the evening yearn from all that happened I wish I could learn... that life isn't always what you desire it leaves you lost in flames of fire... you see your day and see it through knowing what I am writing is all so true... you ignore the meaning of all of this thinking I am being childish... but it is you who wished that way I’ll grow a ten years late, that’s what you'd say... I’ve tried to ignore I’ve tried to forget but all I see is the first time we met... I don't know why this happened to me may be its a dream, so pinch me and see... then when I said, the difference in imagination and reality you wished I make it real, do what was right in all its vanity... and I put my arms around you and feel you made it so easy I needed not to kneel... you picked me fine and we ended up holding hands the warmth I felt was beyond all stands... you rubbed them for me thinking it were numb I was so happy and I knew you'd do so if I kept dumb... the journey neared its end in a closing chapter I wasn't ready leaving you and now I wonder... all I want is for you to reflect on whether I lie or is this for fun... hopefully you will find the answer in no that for me this isn't a show... I never will forget the moments we had after leaving you I really was sad... @manauwer
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May 31, 2014
May 31, 2014 at 12:24 PM UTC
An Incomplete Walk
now see, once again I write to you the sun wasn't shining and the sky wasn't blue... I met you on the route and feel you shrug carelessly I handshake where I had to hug... and walked beside you till you were fine and all this time, the happiness was all mine... and the next I did was to sit where you sit what do you know, intentionally I came close a bit... and all I did was to sit beside you and think with you in my head, only about you without a blink... the day passed and the evening yearn from all that happened I wish I could learn... that life isn't always what you desire it leaves you lost in flames of fire... you see your day and see it through knowing what I am writing is all so true... you ignore the meaning of all of this thinking I am being childish... but it is you who wished that way I’ll grow a ten years late, that’s what you'd say... I’ve tried to ignore I’ve tried to forget but all I see is the first time we met... I don't know why this happened to me may be its a dream, so pinch me and see... then when I said, the difference in imagination and reality you wished I make it real, do what was right in all its vanity... and I put my arms around you and feel you made it so easy I needed not to kneel... you picked me fine and we ended up holding hands the warmth I felt was beyond all stands... you rubbed them for me thinking it were numb I was so happy and I knew you'd do so if I kept dumb... the journey neared its end in a closing chapter I wasn't ready leaving you and now I wonder... all I want is for you to reflect on whether I lie or is this for fun... hopefully you will find the answer in no that for me this isn't a show... I never will forget the moments we had after leaving you I really was sad... @manauwer
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41
I dreamed a dream so perfect of white and pureness found Of swimming pools of happiness and creativeness unbound Where I was king forevermore and you could not invade With all my joy in full display and all true feelings laid. You entered not for it was you who feared Me! You feared me and dare not ever neared. So beautiful.  Magnificent. Yet slumber comes to end and soon I found myself returned into your lap again. Until I can once more escape in sleep where truth is gone to places you shall never know nor ever gaze upon
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May 22, 2017
May 22, 2017 at 12:21 AM UTC
Escape
she exiled herself from the atmosphere that ended her in tears and she lay flat on the ground, didn't care, didn't fear. she made an angel by herself she wished was here to banish her griefs and as a snowflake landed on her bare, exposed neck, she fumbled over the word love just as the snowflake melted, her blood cells jumped as the sheer cold drip of water licks the lovebite solemnly. two delinquent angles neared her reeking of alcohol and fresh sins salvaging her with broken thoughts and beer bottles; and another snowflake landed on her bare, exposed neck, but this time, it didn't melt.
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Dec 13, 2013
Dec 13, 2013 at 6:58 AM UTC
a cold day
why do i have to be a dog for my cats? the male one is teasing my neighbour's dog... the dog starts barking, doesn't stop... so i start barking... a dismembered word rough with a range of neared onomatopoeias... i hate barking, it never sounds like a dog... more like a dinosaur... Ra! (a name for a roar), a tongue's trill at the bookie's in-between... i hate barking... or like at the chemists, an old man and me, i had the seat, asked if he wanted it, he said no, we were both waiting for a prescription... 'well, if you're not taking it i'll stand with you in show of solidarity' my arms folded like a pigeon or a crow strutting... well, if he ain't going to sit i'm not going to sit either.... there you go, solidarity, **** Wałensa... mushy mushy overgrown moustache nozzle... brr brr... do the motorboat of oral *** like you're expressing shrivelling watching the northern lights! yep, got you... selfie taken... now make a pose for Lactose Falls of the waterfalls from your eyeing ******* yep... that's a happy couple... take two! no, you ******* go off and wait in the tourists' queue like the other 100 ******* did politely.
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Apr 5, 2016
Apr 5, 2016 at 11:48 AM UTC
barking
You were far away. Farther than halfway across the room, A glass in your hand and that crooked smile Rising like the sun on your face. I was swimming- Maybe drowning in a sea of people. He was trying to talk to me- About the every days that composed of Almost nothings. I swear I felt my skin wrinkle in my Little black dress And my toes pinch in My high heels. I told myself it was worth it. He said I was beautiful But I look across the room And your eyes don't meet mine. Each time I look at you and You don’t notice me, I feel myself taking a step into The inevitable stairs of Heartbreak. I danced all night with him- He taught me how to waltz in squares And spin in turns. His hands fit into my curves Like those plastic cylinders That build towers and cities. But I still felt it didn’t belong there. Your hands I bet would fit like roots into My earth And this would beat any hundred story Building because it was natural. He might have disagreed with that And at one point through that night So did I. If my heart was beating a thousand times Per second and My palms rained over my knees And my cheeks were apples ready to Be picked every time you passed by, Surely that isn’t natural. Slowly, I was pummeling As the night neared its end. I had not danced with you. I had not talked to you. I had not even walked by you And yet I could have. But with a heart beating as loud as mine I didn’t want to risk you hearing it. One thing for sure though, I know was completely natural, Was goodbye. It was going to happen And most say that it's the worst moment Of any night But honestly, I had fallen in love with our goodbye. Good night wasn’t enough but your Tan rays of light blooming the roses In my cheeks, Proved you to be a source of life.
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Mar 6, 2014
Mar 6, 2014 at 9:11 AM UTC
Dilemmas and Dancing
You were far away. Farther than halfway across the room, A glass in your hand and that crooked smile Rising like the sun on your face. I was swimming- Maybe drowning in a sea of people. He was trying to talk to me- About the every days that composed of Almost nothings. I swear I felt my skin wrinkle in my Little black dress And my toes pinch in My high heels. I told myself it was worth it. He said I was beautiful But I look across the room And your eyes don't meet mine. Each time I look at you and You don’t notice me, I feel myself taking a step into The inevitable stairs of Heartbreak. I danced all night with him- He taught me how to waltz in squares And spin in turns. His hands fit into my curves Like those plastic cylinders That build towers and cities. But I still felt it didn’t belong there. Your hands I bet would fit like roots into My earth And this would beat any hundred story Building because it was natural. He might have disagreed with that And at one point through that night So did I. If my heart was beating a thousand times Per second and My palms rained over my knees And my cheeks were apples ready to Be picked every time you passed by, Surely that isn’t natural. Slowly, I was pummeling As the night neared its end. I had not danced with you. I had not talked to you. I had not even walked by you And yet I could have. But with a heart beating as loud as mine I didn’t want to risk you hearing it. One thing for sure though, I know was completely natural, Was goodbye. It was going to happen And most say that it's the worst moment Of any night But honestly, I had fallen in love with our goodbye. Good night wasn’t enough but your Tan rays of light blooming the roses In my cheeks, Proved you to be a source of life.
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63
On the banks of the Sentinel River A man locals knew as ‘The Boss’ Worked the controls of the drawbridge Directing the through-trains across The boss man was cheerful and helpful Always whistling or singing a song His gaze was both twinkling and piercing His handshake both friendly and strong His daily routine at the river Saw the bridge back and forth from the edge So the ships could pass freely beside it As he watched from his post on the ledge And then when a train neared the river He remotely connected the link Exact in the duties he carried Of protecting the train from the drink On the banks of the Sentinel River A man locals knew as ‘The Boss’ Worked the controls of the drawbridge Directing the through-trains across The boss man was cheerful and helpful Always whistling or singing a song His gaze was both twinkling and piercing His handshake both friendly and strong His daily routine at the river Saw the bridge back and forth from the edge So the ships could pass freely beside it As he watched from his post on the ledge And then when a train neared the river He remotely connected the link Exact in the duties he carried Of protecting the train from the drink He held onto that train-saving lever With a ruthless and desperate hold ‘Father?’ he heard from the drawbridge The blood in his veins running cold ‘Junior?’ he yelled through the downpour ‘You must run son, like never before!’ But the warning he shouted to save him Was drowned out by the oncoming roar To go rescue his son on the drawbridge Would never leave time to get back To re-lock in the hand-governed lever To save those in the train on the track But to barter a life of perfection In exchange for this train full of fools Was too much to expect of a father It was heartless and mean; it was cruel! But a train full of people would perish If he opted the life of his son Two hundred and forty-nine humans As compared to the loss of just one! He could picture his son by the window Looking out at the lights of the train May I go to the bridge to meet Father? To walk him back home, in the rain. His firstborn was gentle and thoughtful Compliant no matter the task Most eager and willing to please him Obeying whatever was asked He took one last second to ponder But his conscience, it already knew He held tight to that hand-governed lever And let the Northwestern roll through Not a soul on the train saw his body As it fell to its watery grave Not a soul on the train heard his father Mourn the son that he’d wanted to save If you can imagine this father Then think of our Father above And we fools here on earth that He rescued Done all in the name of His love!
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Oct 5, 2016
Oct 5, 2016 at 4:56 PM UTC
The Bridge Keeper
On the banks of the Sentinel River A man locals knew as ‘The Boss’ Worked the controls of the drawbridge Directing the through-trains across The boss man was cheerful and helpful Always whistling or singing a song His gaze was both twinkling and piercing His handshake both friendly and strong His daily routine at the river Saw the bridge back and forth from the edge So the ships could pass freely beside it As he watched from his post on the ledge And then when a train neared the river He remotely connected the link Exact in the duties he carried Of protecting the train from the drink On the banks of the Sentinel River A man locals knew as ‘The Boss’ Worked the controls of the drawbridge Directing the through-trains across The boss man was cheerful and helpful Always whistling or singing a song His gaze was both twinkling and piercing His handshake both friendly and strong His daily routine at the river Saw the bridge back and forth from the edge So the ships could pass freely beside it As he watched from his post on the ledge And then when a train neared the river He remotely connected the link Exact in the duties he carried Of protecting the train from the drink He held onto that train-saving lever With a ruthless and desperate hold ‘Father?’ he heard from the drawbridge The blood in his veins running cold ‘Junior?’ he yelled through the downpour ‘You must run son, like never before!’ But the warning he shouted to save him Was drowned out by the oncoming roar To go rescue his son on the drawbridge Would never leave time to get back To re-lock in the hand-governed lever To save those in the train on the track But to barter a life of perfection In exchange for this train full of fools Was too much to expect of a father It was heartless and mean; it was cruel! But a train full of people would perish If he opted the life of his son Two hundred and forty-nine humans As compared to the loss of just one! He could picture his son by the window Looking out at the lights of the train May I go to the bridge to meet Father? To walk him back home, in the rain. His firstborn was gentle and thoughtful Compliant no matter the task Most eager and willing to please him Obeying whatever was asked He took one last second to ponder But his conscience, it already knew He held tight to that hand-governed lever And let the Northwestern roll through Not a soul on the train saw his body As it fell to its watery grave Not a soul on the train heard his father Mourn the son that he’d wanted to save If you can imagine this father Then think of our Father above And we fools here on earth that He rescued Done all in the name of His love!
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Look no further than yourself, be your own lamp your own refuge*. The rain washed sky found a mirror in his eyes. Yet for some time as the end neared he was hearing an echo from the deep well of nirvana urging his weary feet toward a home his aeons ago. The frail bones feeling the pull drove his weary feet through rains to be on that land one last time. *Look no further for howsoever long is the journey must come to an end at home*. That night as he lay under the śāl tree they strained to hear him whisper *All composite things decay, strive diligently.
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Oct 12, 2017
Oct 12, 2017 at 10:31 AM UTC
Last Journey
as the yacht neared the pier the crowd applauded loudly for the lone yachtsman had won against the rough seas
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Oct 31, 2013
Oct 31, 2013 at 6:58 PM UTC
Rough Seas (Dodoitsu Poem)
Winter will soon slip into spring, all dressed in  green; bouquet nights and the rebirth of love. Snakes gliding through the grass. But for now, we deal with ice and snow, slick roads and cold hearts. I was on the bus the other day. The driver had a slippery scowl pasted on her chubby face. My mask had inched down on my nose, and she yelled, "put your mask on or you will be off the bus." I was having a terrible day already. My asthma was acting up, I could hardly breathe, and I had just had to put my beloved dog to sleep. I miss her, but she slipped away peacefully. I rang the bell to get off at my stop, as I chewed my gum in passive anger. I stood up and walked toward the front of the bus. The aisle was slick from the snow and ice. As I neared the exit door, I took the gum out of my mouth, so that I could throw it away, but things went horribly awry.  I slipped on a wet spot, and to catch myself, I firmly planted  my gum hand on the back of the driver's head. She had short hair, but still, the *** of gum was now  embedded in her golden  locks. I'm sure a haircut is her near future. Since then, I intend to tread softly and cautiously, and just maybe, she does too.
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Feb 26, 2022
Feb 26, 2022 at 12:37 PM UTC
We all Slip
I pushed him back, took control, A hunger burned within my soul. His eyes, wide with sheer desire, Lit the room like a growing fire. As I took him, slow and deep, I savored every sigh he'd keep. Each moan, each shudder, fueled my need, A dance where I would take the lead. He neared his peak, I felt it rise, But stopped to see it in his eyes. I teased, I lingered, made it last, Prolonging pleasure, holding fast. For in that moment, time stood still, A game of passion, matched in skill. I drew it out, the night our own, In every touch, a thrill was sown.
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Aug 12, 2024
Aug 12, 2024 at 10:23 PM UTC
Taken
A doctor who lost his dear wife Took to probing the secrets of life His intention was pure Though success premature Lead him quickly to trouble and strife The notion popped into his head To dig up the recently dead With his stitching and knife He created a life Which promptly absconded and fled He looked like the worst of mankind But was blessed with a brilliant mind He lurked in the wood For as long as he could But he yearned for the touch of his kind To the doctor he went to proclaim That his plight was of Frankenstein's blame And he said he'd begin To **** off his kin Unless Frankenstein made him a dame So the doctor stole bodies and stitched With a frenzy, the man was bewitched For his son would be saved Once this woman, de-graved Was alive and the monster was hitched But a face at the window appeared As his second success was neared The creature was grinning His eyeballs were spinning In his trousers, a cobra had reared So the doctor was filled up with guilt And he tore up the woman he'd built So the very next day In a horrible way His son was all strangled and kill't The doctor pursued his creation Across countries with growing frustration He went for a stroll In the southern most pole A long way off from civilization The going was chilly and slow But he finally caught up his foe The creature was greater He killed his creator And buggered off into the snow The End
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Feb 9, 2013
Feb 9, 2013 at 11:50 AM UTC
Frankenstein (for those who can't be bothered reading the book)