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"nec" poems
mighty mighty miners   mining for a heart of cryptocurrency   mighty mighty houses   might end up empty   for fake fortune   for a drop of wine   for a speck of grain   for fake fortune   nec·ro·man·cers quick with answers will you be their broke financiers   will you be their paraplegic dancers   you've got nothing to lose   just a shield of children   wielding weapons   no one knows how to use   mighty mighty miners   mine on empty   too much vacancy   in a heart of cryptocurrency   all one person   all one horsemen   all fake fortune   all one horsemen   wish NPC weren't too dumb to understand mighty mighty houses built upon sand because every time jeff eats an iguana,   he's got the whole free market in his hands.
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Oct 7, 2018
Oct 7, 2018 at 12:22 AM UTC
"Lucifer, Lucifer, Lucifer, Lucifer, Who's been waiting on you?"*
I miss you the most in the middle of the night when the  o n l y  thing that is able to consume me is the memory of your lip stains on my chest and the darkness surrounding ; the only thing that is keeping us con-nec-ted seems to be the stars, darling. And they're close to burning out. gd
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Mar 18, 2015
Mar 18, 2015 at 12:38 AM UTC
Pisces.
I’m indebted to the Oxford Dictionary of Quotations, 4th Edition 1996 **Ab Imo Pectore A**b imo pectore, Blandae mendacia linguae, Cadit quaestio, Desunt cetera. E*st modus in rebus. Faber est quisque fortunae suae, Gigni de nihilo nihilum, in nihilum nil posse reverti. Hic finis fandi, Interdum stultus bene loquitur? Jacta interdum est alea, Labuntur et imputantur. Magni nominis umbra, Nec scire fas est omnia, Omne crede diem tibi diluxisse supremun, Pallida mors aequo pulsat pauperum tabernas regumque turres; Quid rides, mutato nominee de te fibula narrator, Res ipsa loquitur. Solvitur ambulando… Tempora mutantur, nos et matamur in illis. Urbi et orbi, Vestigia nulla retrorsum.* From The Bottom Of The Heart From the bottom of the heart,  the falsehoods of a smooth tongue, The question drops, the rest is wanting. There is a balance in all things, every man is the creator of his own fate. From nothing, nothing can come, into nothing, nothing can return. Let there be an end to talking, for who can tell when a fool speaks the truth? The die is sometimes already cast, A moment comes and goes, and is laid to our account. From the smallest shadow to the mightiest name, No one can claim to know all things, I believe that every day that dawns may be my last, Pale death knocks impartially at both poor and rich men’s houses; Don’t laugh, change the name and the story is yours, It’s so obvious, it speaks for itself. As the concept of motion is proven by walking… So in time all things change, as we must, in time, all change. And to all the world, There’s no turning back. Ab Imo Pectore / From The Bottom Of The Heart Ab imo pectore, From the bottom of the heart, Blandae mendacia linguae,   The falsehoods of a smooth tongue, Cadit quaestio, The question drops, Desunt cetera. The rest is found wanting. Est modus in rebus, There is a balance in all things, Faber est quisque fortunae suae. Every man is the creator of his own fate. Gigni de nihilo nihilum, in nihilum nil posse reverti. From nothing, nothing can come, into nothing, nothing can return.   Hic finis fandi, Let there be an end to talking, Interdum stultus bene loquitur? For who can tell when a fool speaks the truth? Jacta interdum est alea. The die is sometimes already cast, Labuntur et imputantur. A moment comes and goes, and is laid to our account. Magni nominis umbra, From the smallest shadow to the mightiest name, Nec scire fas est omnia, No one can claim to know all things, Omne crede diem tibi diluxisse supremun, I believe that every day that dawns may be my last, Pallida  mors aequo pulsat pauperum tabernas regumque turres; Pale death knocks impartially at both poor man and rich men’s houses; Quid rides, mutato nominee de te fibula narrator, Don’t laugh, change the name and the story is yours, Res ipsa loquitur. It’s so obvious, that it speaks for itself. Solvitur ambulando… As the concept of motion is proven by walking… Tempora mutantur, nos et matamur in illis. So in time all things change, as we must, in time, all change. Urbi et orbi, And to all the world, Vestigia nulla retrorsum. There’s no turning back. r10.1
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Nov 27, 2013
Nov 27, 2013 at 6:41 PM UTC
Ab Imo Pectore / From The Bottom Of The Heart
I’m indebted to the Oxford Dictionary of Quotations, 4th Edition 1996 **Ab Imo Pectore A**b imo pectore, Blandae mendacia linguae, Cadit quaestio, Desunt cetera. E*st modus in rebus. Faber est quisque fortunae suae, Gigni de nihilo nihilum, in nihilum nil posse reverti. Hic finis fandi, Interdum stultus bene loquitur? Jacta interdum est alea, Labuntur et imputantur. Magni nominis umbra, Nec scire fas est omnia, Omne crede diem tibi diluxisse supremun, Pallida mors aequo pulsat pauperum tabernas regumque turres; Quid rides, mutato nominee de te fibula narrator, Res ipsa loquitur. Solvitur ambulando… Tempora mutantur, nos et matamur in illis. Urbi et orbi, Vestigia nulla retrorsum.* From The Bottom Of The Heart From the bottom of the heart,  the falsehoods of a smooth tongue, The question drops, the rest is wanting. There is a balance in all things, every man is the creator of his own fate. From nothing, nothing can come, into nothing, nothing can return. Let there be an end to talking, for who can tell when a fool speaks the truth? The die is sometimes already cast, A moment comes and goes, and is laid to our account. From the smallest shadow to the mightiest name, No one can claim to know all things, I believe that every day that dawns may be my last, Pale death knocks impartially at both poor and rich men’s houses; Don’t laugh, change the name and the story is yours, It’s so obvious, it speaks for itself. As the concept of motion is proven by walking… So in time all things change, as we must, in time, all change. And to all the world, There’s no turning back. Ab Imo Pectore / From The Bottom Of The Heart Ab imo pectore, From the bottom of the heart, Blandae mendacia linguae,   The falsehoods of a smooth tongue, Cadit quaestio, The question drops, Desunt cetera. The rest is found wanting. Est modus in rebus, There is a balance in all things, Faber est quisque fortunae suae. Every man is the creator of his own fate. Gigni de nihilo nihilum, in nihilum nil posse reverti. From nothing, nothing can come, into nothing, nothing can return.   Hic finis fandi, Let there be an end to talking, Interdum stultus bene loquitur? For who can tell when a fool speaks the truth? Jacta interdum est alea. The die is sometimes already cast, Labuntur et imputantur. A moment comes and goes, and is laid to our account. Magni nominis umbra, From the smallest shadow to the mightiest name, Nec scire fas est omnia, No one can claim to know all things, Omne crede diem tibi diluxisse supremun, I believe that every day that dawns may be my last, Pallida  mors aequo pulsat pauperum tabernas regumque turres; Pale death knocks impartially at both poor man and rich men’s houses; Quid rides, mutato nominee de te fibula narrator, Don’t laugh, change the name and the story is yours, Res ipsa loquitur. It’s so obvious, that it speaks for itself. Solvitur ambulando… As the concept of motion is proven by walking… Tempora mutantur, nos et matamur in illis. So in time all things change, as we must, in time, all change. Urbi et orbi, And to all the world, Vestigia nulla retrorsum. There’s no turning back. r10.1
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Animula! vagula, Blandula, Hospes, comesque corporis, Quæ nunc abibis in Loca— Pallidula, rigida, nudula, Nec, ut soles, dabis Jocos? TRANSLATION. Ah! gentle, fleeting, wav’ring Sprite, Friend and associate of this clay! To what unknown region borne, Wilt thou, now, wing thy distant flight? No more with wonted humour gay, But pallid, cheerless, and forlorn.
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1.8k
Adrian’s Address To His Soul When Dying
Beneath blackened earth, where majestic death gave birth.. Lies Sir Roderick so very still. Claire wanders and wonders if there is something more, beyond life she can explore... In a tome of darkened lore answers were cast at the question. If only a mild suggestion of necromantic, a spell. To take back a soul from hell.... Claire descends in Roderick's tomb. They will be united soon.. Indeed it is a graverobber's plight, to take care of such a wondrous sight. Little Claire did not care, as she played with raven hair. Words dripped from her lips, as she read from the bloodied tome.. The atmosphere drenched in a shivering tone.. going through marrow and cutting through bone. Lay still your beating heart, let flow your sea of life.. Come back from Death and love thine wife.. A sacrifice with children's blood she gave Roderick now ascends from his mouldy grave. His flesh looks putrid and vile.. Dilly, dally the maggots wriggle Claire comforts with a single giggle. Now they dance, hand in hand. They kiss in brittle moonlight his tongue like broken glass, such delight. So full of joy was Claire, as Roderick was festering in his chair. Claire did not care, playing with raven hair. Roderick still festering, festering in his chair. Then she nodded, nearly napping, one last spell inside her head. Command Sir Roderick to share her bed. Little Claire was nowhere to be found... Chewing, drooling, smacking.... Followed by a clamour and loud cracking. Lay upon the bed, Sir Roderick and Claire. Sir Roderick did not care, playing with her raven hair. Loathsome Claire was united no more.. Her cannibalized remains decorated the floor.
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Apr 7, 2015
Apr 7, 2015 at 8:44 PM UTC
(Nec)Romantic
Beneath blackened earth, where majestic death gave birth.. Lies Sir Roderick so very still. Claire wanders and wonders if there is something more, beyond life she can explore... In a tome of darkened lore answers were cast at the question. If only a mild suggestion of necromantic, a spell. To take back a soul from hell.... Claire descends in Roderick's tomb. They will be united soon.. Indeed it is a graverobber's plight, to take care of such a wondrous sight. Little Claire did not care, as she played with raven hair. Words dripped from her lips, as she read from the bloodied tome.. The atmosphere drenched in a shivering tone.. going through marrow and cutting through bone. Lay still your beating heart, let flow your sea of life.. Come back from Death and love thine wife.. A sacrifice with children's blood she gave Roderick now ascends from his mouldy grave. His flesh looks putrid and vile.. Dilly, dally the maggots wriggle Claire comforts with a single giggle. Now they dance, hand in hand. They kiss in brittle moonlight his tongue like broken glass, such delight. So full of joy was Claire, as Roderick was festering in his chair. Claire did not care, playing with raven hair. Roderick still festering, festering in his chair. Then she nodded, nearly napping, one last spell inside her head. Command Sir Roderick to share her bed. Little Claire was nowhere to be found... Chewing, drooling, smacking.... Followed by a clamour and loud cracking. Lay upon the bed, Sir Roderick and Claire. Sir Roderick did not care, playing with her raven hair. Loathsome Claire was united no more.. Her cannibalized remains decorated the floor.
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Nec possum tecum vivere, nec sine te. It will end in death either way.
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Feb 21, 2016
Feb 21, 2016 at 2:44 PM UTC
One Conclusion
Tantum tempus temporis quoniam aliena femina in meo cubiculo dormivit; ecce illi quantum dulce somnus est. Quanta etiam libera somnia sunt. In alia aetate mundum certe rexit vel optimo regi in matrimonio fideliter ducta est qui iuxtus flumen psalmos luce lunae scripsit. **** me iri foras egressum et spatiatum Nihil occurit hic, nihil umquam fit. Praeterea si incedat iam volat me narrare; habeo nihil, praecipue erga quicquid erat. Viam cepi aviam qua celeres non superant; dignis praemia sunt qui verbum veritatis distinguere possunt. Hospes solus me docere potuit praeclaram orem iustitiae contemplari et videre oculum pro oculo, et dentem pro dente. Nisi duo homines in mansionem, Est nullus in viso; verem exspectant, proinde quasi ver plaustro accederet. Mundus deleretur ea nocte sed meae amicae aequum esset; illa meo cubiculo dormiret *** revenirem. Meridiano me promoveo adhuc in obscura parte viae; in angustos corruere et constans manere non possum. Alius mea ore dicit sed solum meo animo audit, calcas omnibus etiam tibi feci quibus tamen careo. Ego et ego In creatione quo ingenium alicuius nec alicui ignoscit nec excolit. Ego et ego unus alteri dicit nullus et videre imaginem meum et vivere possit. From "Bird's Nest In Your Hair" by Brian Jobe
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May 21, 2017
May 21, 2017 at 10:03 PM UTC
Ego et Ego after Bob Dylan
Today, Yes today I have something to say and it’s not golden daffodils it’s a grey grey rant which i have to wright down to express how i feel about this My Grey Day Yes today I went to pick up my new uniform for the work i had to do that day I pulled on grey trousers then a grey ***** topped with a grey jacket then a Light grey tie I looked in the mirror and it cracked so i place on my hat that said Team NEC and to topped the lot I felt like i wanted to cry then I put on the shoes then I remember the badge they gave to me quite nice has my name upon it’s P A U L on a white background so I place it on my grey jacket it shone out like a rocket I looked then blinked again the mirror cracked from side to side as the tears fell on my boots I remembered what the **** have you done to me where are my smart black trousers and my crisp whit shirt with navy blue epilets and my bright blue blazer what have you done to me so now when I work it’s my grey day
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Aug 14, 2012
Aug 14, 2012 at 5:30 PM UTC
My Grey Day.
Sous les draps de ta pyramide On a vue en 3D sur la mangrove Rhomboïde De rhizomes entrelacés À perte de vue. Et j'essaie le sabre aux lèvres Grâce à mon géo-radar De me frayer un chemin dans le feu inextricable Vers ta chambre nuptiale D'eau enchevêtrée d'éclairs et de lave en fusion. Sous les draps de ta pyramide J'emprunte ta face Nord À travers une oubliette à l'abri des regards Des crabes et des salamandres J'emprunte la descenderie Et au bout du couloir Me voici à l'antichambre Et un sphynx exige de moi un mot de passe Pour accéder au nec plus ultra de tes entrailles. Et je dis : soldat du feu ! Et ce que je croyais être un simple feu de broussailles De mangle rouge momifié Se révèle un feu de jungle folle Où sauterelles et criquets grésillent Sous les flammes humides de ta chrysalide. Et j'ouvre ma pompe et j'arrose De mon eau de rose ton sanctuaire De fleur de grenade inviolée Et je comble ta faim D'un bon mortier fait de venin de sable et de sève d'argile Montante et descendante Que tu dégustes en te pourléchant les lèvres. Pour ne pas en perdre une miette.
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Nov 2, 2019
Nov 2, 2019 at 5:36 AM UTC
Sous les draps de ta pyramide
You are every missed con nec tion, every pause I didn't know how to fill, every ship I sent out that never reached its designated shore. I never really had you.
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Nov 9, 2013
Nov 9, 2013 at 1:22 AM UTC
[ ]
I love the hubble and bubble of the Autumn Fair Love being on duty there Love greeting the traders as they come in they are alway's smiling in hopes of doing good business there O' I love the NEC Autumn Fair. All new products ready for Christmas this year O' I love the NEC Autumn Fair. As I stand on my duty V.E. door I watch the people there and those people ask me questions back like where do I find the toilets ? O' I love the NEC Autumn Fair.
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Sep 3, 2013
Sep 3, 2013 at 6:59 PM UTC
The N E C Autumn Fair.
Novelties by Thomas Campion loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Booksellers laud authors for novel editions as pimps praise their ****** for exotic positions. *** Original Latin text: IN LIBRARIOS by Thomas Campion Impressionum plurium librum laudat Librarius; scortum nec non minus leno. Keywords/Tags: Campion, Latin, translation, epigram, novels, novelties, booksellers, publishers, authors, pimps, ****** prostitutes, prostitution, exotic, positions, quote, quotation, saying, witticism, bon mot
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Mar 17, 2020
Mar 17, 2020 at 10:12 PM UTC
Thomas Campion "Novelties" translation
Je n 'ai jamais vu Autrement que fardées Les lèvres rebondies de ma muse. Ces lèvres rarissimes n 'ont jamais aimé, Jamais baiser de Désirée ne fut ni volé ni échangé M'a-t-elle avoué. Ne proposez surtout pas à ma muse de goûter à ses lèvres Sublimées par les mythiques "Ne m'oubliez pas" de Guerlain, Authentique Rouge de Rouge Baiser, Ou encore Noir Gothique de Dior Oubliez à jamais magenta, Parme ou mauve, prune ou violette Les lèvres cultes de ma muse ne jurent que par l 'aubergine Eggplant lipstick, Appliqué au raisin Du coeur de ses lèvres vers les commissures Mais à n'en pas douter le nec plus ultra de ses lèvres C 'est quand elles sont nues, Dépouillées, sans fard, sans baume Riches de leur texture incendiaire Naturelle, légitime et génétique Riches des flux et reflux de l'Océan Indien. Ses lèvres, comme je les imagine, Sont alors cyclone divin comme le vin de letchi A boire sans modération.
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Aug 21, 2019
Aug 21, 2019 at 1:38 AM UTC
Ses lèvres, comme je les imagine
My reasons... Lack reason. Shared paper/words/ wants. Con\nec\tions... ...SNAPS and ...dots... Don't.know.what's.missing. Until... you... find...it... //Own my heart// Own/my/thoughts And I never had you at all ...But how I want you So.little.time. spilledwords---spilled wine On paper <insignificant> ...I suppose... holding hands by holding rhymes If marked in tempo...if marked in time ...Barely a cursive i Still//stillness... I,...Left here... ...am haunted {Spector of your smile} -ScribblingMyVitals- Prose to quell the ache ....finally awake.... Left to linger in the wake: the joy of your hello; Deceives the ...the s l i c e of/your/ good//bye. ...minutes too slender Yet my skin... knows... the bite.
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Oct 30, 2015
Oct 30, 2015 at 1:48 PM UTC
Paper cut
mighty mighty houses   might end up empty   mighty mighty miners   mining for a heart of cryptocurrency   for fake fortune   drop of wine   speck of grain   if you get in line for fake fortune   mighty mighty miners   mine on empty   too much vacancy   in a heart of cryptocurrency   nec·ro·man·cers quick with answers   will you be their broke financiers   will you be their paraplegic dancers   you've got nothing to lose   just a shield of children   wielding weapons   no one knows how to use   all one person   all one horsemen   all fake fortune   all one horsemen   might be too dumb to understand mighty mighty houses built upon sand because every time jeff eats an iguana,   he's got the whole free market in his hands.
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Sep 21, 2018
Sep 21, 2018 at 11:18 AM UTC
Lucifer, Lucifer, Lucifer, Lucifer Who's been waiting on you
* Weeping blood and flailing mad, Darkness reveals the path we tread. Shade your eyes from light unseen, Unknown to terror, lightly dream. Unwelcome, alone, I lay in this bed, Dreams of your desire filling my head. Unbidden come, uncaring caress, Sheer shared secrets your only dress. In the height of passion, draw me near, In your hesitant heart, shelter darkest fear. I call you by name, follow, be led, We'll love for eternity, as the living dead. *
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Oct 10, 2025
Oct 10, 2025 at 12:16 PM UTC
[Nec]Romantic Summons