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"ney" poems
. **•...mouth wide  op- en, glis- tening... in the li- ght•aw- aiting to swallow this lone piece of parch- ment•on it i've scribbled all my heart could write•bea- ring sweet nothings, sure and si- lent•now... take this scroll•down your neck... it'll effortlessly slide... •to the core of your very soul•my message would  follow your gui- de•your opening i'd then gladly seal •so your contents would... remain guarded • time is now to set adrift all i feel...•....now ride the waves through jour- ney uncharted•let the curr- ents take you• let the tides and winds be your friends • ...  my quiet well wishes would see you through • in hopes that you would be received by my love's deserving... and...  open** hands•
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Feb 16, 2015
Feb 16, 2015 at 7:45 AM UTC
Bottled
I asked if it was night and he replied ney he untied my blindfold and showed me the day. The dead leaves around me contrasted the sky but amongst them appeared and adorable guy He asked for my hand a date would you please I froze and said yes may love set us free
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Nov 17, 2012
Nov 17, 2012 at 4:18 PM UTC
Opened Eyes
It’s a chill and rainy Saturday night in New Haven - it’s Superbowl eve! My roommates Leong, Anna and Lisa and I were playing a game of Upwards - it’s a scrabble-like word game and we’re all strangely super competitive. My phone went “dunk!” A happy ‘Water jug’ sound messages make when they're from one of my favorites. The message was from Charles. He was at the front gate with a package that came to the house where Charles and Mrs. Charles live (about 600 yards from the dorm). He passed me the package through the bars at the main gate, “Thanks,” I said, “ga-night,” and he was gone. Back in my room, I ripped the box open like Christmas morning. The word game could wait - this package was from Paris. The light beige, Jacquemus, ‘Les Ballerines mary-jane pumps’ I’d ordered (forever ago) had arrived and they fit like soft leather gloves. “Ooo! Glampse!” Lisa pronounced. “Aren’t they?” I agreed, swiveling my hooves to show them off in the full length mirror. When I rejoined the Upwards game, talk had shifted to tomorrow's Superbowl. “I read yesterday that Taylor’s on her way (to the Superbowl)!” Leong declared. “I like that she likes the NFL now,” I said. “A lot of people hate her for it,” Anna countered. “She was on camera twice, for 11 seconds total, in a 3-1/2 hour long game. If that upsets you, you’re bringing a lot of your own baggage to the plot.” I updogged. Leong wants to order vegan “wings” for the SuperBowl. “What, exactly, are those?” I asked, apprehensively. “You’re the girl who talked me into trying buffalo-frog-legs in Paris - ney?” Leong enquired, sarcastically. “Yeah,” I admitted, guiltily, “but they were delicious,” I said in self defense. I’m picking the Chiefs 30-20 over the niners.
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Feb 10, 2024
Feb 10, 2024 at 11:48 PM UTC
superbowl
It’s a chill and rainy Saturday night in New Haven - it’s Superbowl eve! My roommates Leong, Anna and Lisa and I were playing a game of Upwards - it’s a scrabble-like word game and we’re all strangely super competitive. My phone went “dunk!” A happy ‘Water jug’ sound messages make when they're from one of my favorites. The message was from Charles. He was at the front gate with a package that came to the house where Charles and Mrs. Charles live (about 600 yards from the dorm). He passed me the package through the bars at the main gate, “Thanks,” I said, “ga-night,” and he was gone. Back in my room, I ripped the box open like Christmas morning. The word game could wait - this package was from Paris. The light beige, Jacquemus, ‘Les Ballerines mary-jane pumps’ I’d ordered (forever ago) had arrived and they fit like soft leather gloves. “Ooo! Glampse!” Lisa pronounced. “Aren’t they?” I agreed, swiveling my hooves to show them off in the full length mirror. When I rejoined the Upwards game, talk had shifted to tomorrow's Superbowl. “I read yesterday that Taylor’s on her way (to the Superbowl)!” Leong declared. “I like that she likes the NFL now,” I said. “A lot of people hate her for it,” Anna countered. “She was on camera twice, for 11 seconds total, in a 3-1/2 hour long game. If that upsets you, you’re bringing a lot of your own baggage to the plot.” I updogged. Leong wants to order vegan “wings” for the SuperBowl. “What, exactly, are those?” I asked, apprehensively. “You’re the girl who talked me into trying buffalo-frog-legs in Paris - ney?” Leong enquired, sarcastically. “Yeah,” I admitted, guiltily, “but they were delicious,” I said in self defense. I’m picking the Chiefs 30-20 over the niners.
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15
So full of life and laughter The things of which I am sorely deprived Are you a demon sent to torture me Or an angel to show me my faults If I believed in either it should be a lark As I know both to be in existence Indeed I am quite mad There are infite creatures Of which you know not Do not doubt that which you have not seen Just because you haven't Doesn't mean its never been Who is to say That a Unicorn never grazed A Phoenix never flew Lycanthropes have not roamed Maenads are simple handservants Quetzalcoatl was merely a serpent Ney, Not I Nor can you I dare say For if you could By now you would With clear and direct evidence Solid as granite Seeing as you do not come forth I will assume you have not Without mincing words Go crawl back into the hole from whence you came
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Feb 8, 2012
Feb 8, 2012 at 1:16 PM UTC
Your Doubt Is Not Completely Justifiable
I am the river bleeding rivulets at its mouth, I am time, many branched. I was a woman who came of heart, love, hope: I was thrown out of my hearth. Alone in this harsh winter, the broken woman works the coal in the shanty town. She is all toil and fate. She is, is but a footnote in our capital culture. She has no wealth and she has lost all. No education worth a job. No salary worth a home. Age is not on her friendly side. So she goes abandoned by the river, discarded jewel. She went home, back home to where her father came from. There they called her a foreigner, and said she did not belong. She was western in the east, and an oriental in the west. She did not belong. She was sent here to these rugged mountains by a twist of fate.  No one told her story. She was forgotten like a grave in the hills. Her wails are the whirlwinds that rise hooding mysteries up the slopes. Un-clapped cymbal, wind chime, song bowl and ney, unsung songs that compete for attention. Time, many branched. She won. Brave woman, she won. She fought her fate and said 'I will'. The fire in her eyes stoked people's hearts. They welcomed her home and called her 'Khedi'. She's a guide to adventurers who want to be lost. I chose this timeline. I jumped in and ran my dinghy down this gorge and emerged into a world of sparkling light.
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Mar 2, 2015
Mar 2, 2015 at 8:45 PM UTC
A timeline for Khedi | The Hermit
As I embark/ that spark within me pushed to part/ ways there's a game of world to see I had played my part/ and roll ride the waves/ put I could not stay/ if respect out of order Or in disarray/ It's ok life's a jour-ney/ From date of birth to gur-ney/ It's what's done in between Which concerns me/ It's never a matter of had The skill arrived/ It's only ever a matter of increments in time/ When I implement my mind/ A new form would've been born An intricate design/ Simplistically simplified So that I can convert, traverse and Converse between you and I/ This is special Being here for a limited Of time/ Even if we no longer talk Your imprints in mine/ Your DNA my design/ Some where they've aligned/ I've created a monster A modern day Frankenstein/ It's a live!!! All In any way Journeys in mind/ When it's all said and done They would've done said He put it all on the line/ Got rich and died trying/ Liken to a shrine/ words Etched instilled And still willing me/ Willingly although They tried to bewilder me/ But I'm a wil-der beast/ I was raised via the streets/ Taught by scholars/ Millionaires told me I Could never touch they dollars/ Untold access to knowledge To create my wealth/ Fitness gurus helped me Maintain my health/ Motivated or else/ Elsewhere they didn't help/ Ingredients tools I didn't know I could just do it myself/ So I started with Less With every thing left to gain/ Literary tales prevail through the firey flames.
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Sep 18, 2016
Sep 18, 2016 at 9:54 PM UTC
The greatest Impression
Down on G street To the left of the newspaper stand And frame shop The girls whistle their own names In a cappella F minor My fingers their all tangled up And my feet bend inward at the toe I'm a broken vessel for you baby And I got nowhere else to go Turned fifteen yesterday under a spilt milk moon Stars were shining down and I felt my heart start to croon Granite pastures and mile long red lips She turned to me and said, "I'm gone," a black belt swinging from her hip There's too much love Not enough time Keeping your head above water Seems to be the only trick At night stars tear themselves to shreds She snores in whispering wed Forgetting myself for the sake of St. Peter I understand all before that were slave to the meter Dear Beauty:          When the sun doth set It sets solely for you. Hair black as smoldering volcano ash And Ye' smile Like a newborn babies laugh You are the mile upon minutes And the thought that makes theories A storm that hast ney other fury Is one for me in love that hath No other query. We fight. We beckon. We tackle jealously Like new lovers. I Am in Love With You. And I can say that When the sun sets And the moon rises, So the sun rises again For us and only us. We are the forgetful souls of foreman's work: Not soldier's, not mercenaries, Not one's that turn their other cheeks to the brook. Aye thy pride Smelling of old sweat And talisman hide Ol' laughter And a memory with feigning pride. She smells of lavender And I lay by her In luck - the unbelievable kind.
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Jul 25, 2013
Jul 25, 2013 at 10:15 AM UTC
When Nature Copies Its Own
Down on G street To the left of the newspaper stand And frame shop The girls whistle their own names In a cappella F minor My fingers their all tangled up And my feet bend inward at the toe I'm a broken vessel for you baby And I got nowhere else to go Turned fifteen yesterday under a spilt milk moon Stars were shining down and I felt my heart start to croon Granite pastures and mile long red lips She turned to me and said, "I'm gone," a black belt swinging from her hip There's too much love Not enough time Keeping your head above water Seems to be the only trick At night stars tear themselves to shreds She snores in whispering wed Forgetting myself for the sake of St. Peter I understand all before that were slave to the meter Dear Beauty:          When the sun doth set It sets solely for you. Hair black as smoldering volcano ash And Ye' smile Like a newborn babies laugh You are the mile upon minutes And the thought that makes theories A storm that hast ney other fury Is one for me in love that hath No other query. We fight. We beckon. We tackle jealously Like new lovers. I Am in Love With You. And I can say that When the sun sets And the moon rises, So the sun rises again For us and only us. We are the forgetful souls of foreman's work: Not soldier's, not mercenaries, Not one's that turn their other cheeks to the brook. Aye thy pride Smelling of old sweat And talisman hide Ol' laughter And a memory with feigning pride. She smells of lavender And I lay by her In luck - the unbelievable kind.
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56
The song of the ney blends with the dunes: as ancient paths follow footsteps out, into the wilderness of the desert, seeking a truth greater than constricted life settled allows; The percussion of the drum, missed heartbeats: stopping at wells dotting the scape, where, the earth pours her agony forth from her sorrowing depths, the prophet's sons wept for God. The grieving oases mourn an unhealed wound, of long a heart searching the sands, for one who gave his life for the love of his Lord here and his humble fellow man.
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Dec 5, 2013
Dec 5, 2013 at 3:29 PM UTC
Grieving oases
Come like winter to the lake Freezing my body numb and motionless letting my soul flow like water caressing me from within Come like spring to the pine tree Pushing me from inside Budding with new desire Making new life Ecstasy to each flower Come like summer to the fruit Ripening me from within sweetening with all your heat Rotting the undesired peeling off my shell rosy and fired Come like autumn to the forest Taking the peace away Cleansing with each gust playing like a master may sweeping me your way With every passing season i stray and i negate please just come don't make me wait Come like you would from me, taking me away don't let me cry no more Resonating as the Ney ---Sunday, April 28, 2013
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Jan 22, 2014
Jan 22, 2014 at 12:44 AM UTC
Come to me
They married in the merry month of May at Windsor Castle  - Hey Noney Ney! So, Meghan and Prince Harry decided not to tarry. Now a baby’s on the way. next Spring - they say.. The Queen’s amused The Duke’s bemused Prince Charles enthused: saying to Duchess Camilla, “A Jolly Good Show! Oh Joy!” Said she: “A girl or boy?” Said HRH "Don't tease.   One or the other - no transgender if you please, nor talk of Succession to threaten my Accession.” TOBIAS
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Oct 16, 2018
Oct 16, 2018 at 4:32 AM UTC
Lines on a Royal Babe Expected
Santa came to our house, down the chim-a-ney, Leaving presents all around, he didn't forget me. I am just a poor boy, other children laugh at me, Saying Santa won't go to your house, Because you haven't a Christmas Tree. Mom and Dad say that's not true, wait and you will see, No matter if your rich or poor, Santa he can see. Children from the mountains and children by the sea, At Christmas time there all the same, just like you and me. Santa came to our house, down the chim-a-ney, Leaving presents all around he didn't forget me. I may be a poor boy, but I'm as rich as I can be, Because Santa came to our house, he didn't forget me.
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Jun 4, 2015
Jun 4, 2015 at 11:54 PM UTC
Santa Came To Our House
Ney, I am the break That nets a setting sun. Beak of swalllows Into turpentine waters, Behind the glare of The watching fern, A whisper in the winding Shade turning in itself.... In the remains of the day Watching the meeting And the stare of eyes Stealing the fleece of gold From unborn skies.
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Jul 10, 2019
Jul 10, 2019 at 9:02 PM UTC
Dawn Steal
At long last I am alone I've never felt More terrible The walls vibrate From the coming storm Of the inevitable Laughter Is a memory From a past That may not Be mine Everything is So much the Same that it nothing But different There are certain Eclipses of the mind That turn me into Something I cannot be. The one I love Sees me on the street. They do not wave. Our hands graze one Another's wherein my Thought goes from Cold to Hot I can't control For where my head goes Anymore My imagination Is fueled By the terrors And tremors Of tortured love. This bed Is too big For just me. I roll over And she is Not there. Where is she? Where is she? Why is she So far From me? Heavy dramatics. An embarrassed smile. Caught in a moment Of a million and one torrents. I suppose I'm too old for this... All this jealousy. Take what is mine And ye' shall feel the heavy Wrath of a wayward soul That has lived the solitary life Before. Another hour, ney, another minute Means nothing to I for the snippet of Years past Is but a blink - a snap - of what Lives I have passed. Though, to be truthful, I miss her. I can't be but a day away From her. Though she drives me crazy. Though she is anything But a daisy. She is my forever baby.
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May 11, 2014
May 11, 2014 at 3:05 AM UTC
Forever Baby