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"norris" poems
The snowman to the scarecrow, “Hahahaha you’re just a stick figure…. and your hair’s straw.” The scarecrow to the snowman, “Watch who you talk about whenever you open your mouth, for all the coldness in your words will still melt to the ground along with you as soon as the sun comes out.” Owned! “You’re such a chump…” the snowman said… “…two words for your ancestry, tree stump.” the snowman said “You’re fat… you have a carrot for a nose, and what’s up with that stupid green and red coloured hat?” said the scarecrow Well played “I work all year round… you’re here for a season, did you really think you could hold your ground against someone that is here for a reason?” the scarecrow added The snowman cringed, but then had a comeback “At least I don’t wear the same filthy clothes every day of the year… what? Are you trying to bring ‘brown’ back?” Point for Snowman “It’s better than being fat and going naked.” Scarecrow brought it back Scarecrow is consistently winning right? I know… I know man! If he made you a fan, stick around for an autograph… I will throw in mine too For more on the war of words between these two Watch this space for round two.
0
Jan 18, 2013
Jan 18, 2013 at 4:36 AM UTC
Scarecrow owns Snowman. (Diss... skill level, Chuck Norris)
I'm a soldier in the nightlight revolution I'm fighting the nightmares that haunt your dreams The monsters in your closet And the Boogeyman under your bed One outlet at a time I'm a silent alarm that vibrates your covers When older brothers come in after bed time To cover your face in shaving cream Dip your hands in popcorn bowls of warm water Or just slap you in the face Sometimes they're not that subtle I know when there is a tooth under your bed Or reindeer on your roof I've got a motion detector to keep step fathers at bay While your mother's asleep I'm his grave digger and his crypt keeper Taking his skeletons out of the closet And laying them in the middle of the floor That man won't call on you anymore I'm a hug when all you need is a handshake And a hold-you-all-night when all you need is a kiss on the cheek I don't do half-ass When things go bump in the night I bump back Never fear to close both eyes when you sleep Dream of fairy tales, Prince Charming Dream of Maid Marions Waiting for your touch Don't fear the reaper he fears me I am a soldier in the nightlight revolution Armed with so much more than illumination I crawl through the cracks in the closet door Make their shadows cast pictures of rainbows on your wall The Boogey Man runs from Chuck Norris Chuck Norris runs from me Please rest easy Let the night take you for all it has to offer Through star lit skies and rain filled clouds on magic carpets rides Ocean floors and clown fish in little yellow submarines Rain forests with koalas and parrots and panda bears Son never fear for what the night brings near The nightlight revolution is here Throw your dream catcher away I will hand craft each one Take the lavender out of the window sill Don't leave the door cracked You've got me I'm here We're all here Soldiers of the nightlight revolution And we will not sleep til you're awake
0
Feb 24, 2010
Feb 24, 2010 at 2:17 PM UTC
The Nightlight Revolution
I'm a soldier in the nightlight revolution I'm fighting the nightmares that haunt your dreams The monsters in your closet And the Boogeyman under your bed One outlet at a time I'm a silent alarm that vibrates your covers When older brothers come in after bed time To cover your face in shaving cream Dip your hands in popcorn bowls of warm water Or just slap you in the face Sometimes they're not that subtle I know when there is a tooth under your bed Or reindeer on your roof I've got a motion detector to keep step fathers at bay While your mother's asleep I'm his grave digger and his crypt keeper Taking his skeletons out of the closet And laying them in the middle of the floor That man won't call on you anymore I'm a hug when all you need is a handshake And a hold-you-all-night when all you need is a kiss on the cheek I don't do half-ass When things go bump in the night I bump back Never fear to close both eyes when you sleep Dream of fairy tales, Prince Charming Dream of Maid Marions Waiting for your touch Don't fear the reaper he fears me I am a soldier in the nightlight revolution Armed with so much more than illumination I crawl through the cracks in the closet door Make their shadows cast pictures of rainbows on your wall The Boogey Man runs from Chuck Norris Chuck Norris runs from me Please rest easy Let the night take you for all it has to offer Through star lit skies and rain filled clouds on magic carpets rides Ocean floors and clown fish in little yellow submarines Rain forests with koalas and parrots and panda bears Son never fear for what the night brings near The nightlight revolution is here Throw your dream catcher away I will hand craft each one Take the lavender out of the window sill Don't leave the door cracked You've got me I'm here We're all here Soldiers of the nightlight revolution And we will not sleep til you're awake
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49
You’re like the sweetest heart You’re like my miracle You’re the only one I want You’re like the World Series You’re like the saints ,won You’re like the eagles versus You’re like frog legs in Paris You’re like my always pads You’re like every ticket I’ve ever had You’re like my air bag I never want to use you You’re like my little angel’s eyes You are second hand smoke You are on my way to my God you are my music high way And every Mexican blanket You are a field of hay and a single strike of lightning You are every unfinished piece I know I’m saving for our children I have seen them in make shifts so we can definitely make time for everyone Keep me on your next list You are all the self help books that I read for my own mend You are prevention magazine And you’re mom is all the wax I accidentally spill out of candles I think you’re my insecure side that’s scared to love you in front of the neighbors You’re all the days I showed up late to school for Chuck Norris jokes in detention You’re all the lonely drives I take and really enjoy the scenery You are Oreos and Sonic Ice You are better than any view You are every sing le time someone took me to the zoo You are the pink palace You are mismatched socks You are solid rock You are for twenty in the morning on the dot You are every time that I cannot forget dingus Or every time we drive I sing to you Or when we got locked inside of the parking lot on signal mountain and the park ranger came to help us so soon You are my best friend coming to see me when I got to college You are the patience I gain when I Stop wondering who the one is Maybe you are every time I run away You are all the times I cry so hard that it starts to rain You are the doe that always comes near and is never afraid of what will happen next You are the day you told me I was the girl you dreamed about You are the day we sat in the back of my car You are there for me when I have gone too far You meet me further than any arrest or charger cord And Graceland too You’re my wonderful morning You’re my answered prayers for sunshine You’re every single word I type in black and white Messy cars aren’t so bad too meme my love for this love is the only art form I choose Loves eliminating my clouded culture I’m ready for the day when eagles fly over Thank you god for everything
0
Dec 22, 2018
Dec 22, 2018 at 3:48 AM UTC
You are 2:47 in the morning, you are every time I start snoring
You’re like the sweetest heart You’re like my miracle You’re the only one I want You’re like the World Series You’re like the saints ,won You’re like the eagles versus You’re like frog legs in Paris You’re like my always pads You’re like every ticket I’ve ever had You’re like my air bag I never want to use you You’re like my little angel’s eyes You are second hand smoke You are on my way to my God you are my music high way And every Mexican blanket You are a field of hay and a single strike of lightning You are every unfinished piece I know I’m saving for our children I have seen them in make shifts so we can definitely make time for everyone Keep me on your next list You are all the self help books that I read for my own mend You are prevention magazine And you’re mom is all the wax I accidentally spill out of candles I think you’re my insecure side that’s scared to love you in front of the neighbors You’re all the days I showed up late to school for Chuck Norris jokes in detention You’re all the lonely drives I take and really enjoy the scenery You are Oreos and Sonic Ice You are better than any view You are every sing le time someone took me to the zoo You are the pink palace You are mismatched socks You are solid rock You are for twenty in the morning on the dot You are every time that I cannot forget dingus Or every time we drive I sing to you Or when we got locked inside of the parking lot on signal mountain and the park ranger came to help us so soon You are my best friend coming to see me when I got to college You are the patience I gain when I Stop wondering who the one is Maybe you are every time I run away You are all the times I cry so hard that it starts to rain You are the doe that always comes near and is never afraid of what will happen next You are the day you told me I was the girl you dreamed about You are the day we sat in the back of my car You are there for me when I have gone too far You meet me further than any arrest or charger cord And Graceland too You’re my wonderful morning You’re my answered prayers for sunshine You’re every single word I type in black and white Messy cars aren’t so bad too meme my love for this love is the only art form I choose Loves eliminating my clouded culture I’m ready for the day when eagles fly over Thank you god for everything
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56
If I had Three Wishes, I’d wish for A unicorn Nice skin And you If I could live on only Three Things, I’d survive on Lemonade Lasagne And you If I could only watch Three Things when I turn on the television, I would watch That fireplace background Futurama And you, even if you are a runway model If I was stuck forever on a desert island and could only bring Three Things, I’d bring Food Water And you If there was a zombie apocalypse and I had only Three People I could trust, I’d choose A ninja Chuck Norris And you If I could only cheat at Three Things in MAS*H, I’d change To the mansion To have less than ten kids And to be with you If I was in jail and I somehow got Three Phone calls instead on one, I’d call My dad who would bail me out, maybe Chuck Norris who would break me out when my dad refuses to pay the bail And you, just to say hi because you’re broke and can’t pay the fee If I had to choose Three Of my celebrity crushes, I’d pick Johnny Depp, duh B.D Wong, just for his voice in Mulan And you If I had Three Works of art in my room, I’d have A stolen Picasso painting, shhh, look don’t tell That painting where that guy gets knocked out by the apple And you, chiselled into diamonds If I somehow got amnesia and the doctors could only restore Three Of my memories, I’d want to remember My name That time when we killed those zombies with Chuck Norris and the ninja And you If I could only say Three Words, I’d say Is This Creepy?
0
Sep 11, 2011
Sep 11, 2011 at 2:50 PM UTC
Three
(In memory of Norris Hickey 1935-2014) Love of family and fly-fishing: twin tributaries flowed into your heart like a braided river. Paradoxically, a sociable man who preferred to be alone on some braided river, basking in the peace of the wilderness, hearing only birdsong and the gentle whirr of the fly line, its nylon whipping to where you hoped the fish would rise. Patience comes easily in peaceful surroundings, unlike waiting for the blessing of grandchildren. Eventually rewarded with five blessings. You always said what a lucky man you were. I’m glad your luck held because you would weep to see your precious braided rivers drying up down here, ****** dry by the farmers’ greed for white gold and the threatened tarāpunga (Black-billed gulls) getting their nests crushed by callous four-wheel drives. It would be enough to make your big, generous heart burst. © Andrew M. Bell
0
May 15, 2022
May 15, 2022 at 12:41 AM UTC
BRAIDED RIVER
Oh ferocious angels, lionesque children of Eden on narrow streets and polluted alleyways whispering cruel things to each other, you're radiant in your belligerence and as my enemies you are virtuous. Beside me in this carpeted rectangle room a faint glow exhales from the tall alpine ivory lamp illuminating firefly wings of blossoms alluringly exuberant in the afternoon sun-ray diamond shine and shimmer. Dusty tin roofs billow firewood smoke in the thick violet shade fog over-top cabin potted mountains and hills sprouting firs and rose bushes abounding. Spectrum cast chandeliers echo staircases which jot up and up arduous ruby landings, hardwood floor cracked and stacks of novels ballast the senescent hallways of bookshops where poets works and journals diaries and memoirs blur the serpentine walls with memories. Angelic the soul which is too often contaminated with avarice rebellious to concord living harmonious midst dew grass and calm waters in residential lakes empathy equanimity, far from Bodhisattva. Few kinds of darkness transcendental subduing other darkness to a weak shadow. There's an importance to admiring the delirium of metropolitan roads on roads this intricate unspoken connection to those who rest by stoplights and crawling traffic metallic molten aura of cars in July heat. Paying attention to the open window of adjacent apartments where Mr. Norris waters his tulips and shares this moment modern meditations practiced finding a balance in such an anxious volatile world like this. Oh ferocious angels, impetuous forlorn seraphs, sing! sing and soar! Boundless is our ardor and our passion. Unenclosed is the lion in it's bloom.
0
Apr 1, 2015
Apr 1, 2015 at 3:09 AM UTC
Modern Harmonies
Oh ferocious angels, lionesque children of Eden on narrow streets and polluted alleyways whispering cruel things to each other, you're radiant in your belligerence and as my enemies you are virtuous. Beside me in this carpeted rectangle room a faint glow exhales from the tall alpine ivory lamp illuminating firefly wings of blossoms alluringly exuberant in the afternoon sun-ray diamond shine and shimmer. Dusty tin roofs billow firewood smoke in the thick violet shade fog over-top cabin potted mountains and hills sprouting firs and rose bushes abounding. Spectrum cast chandeliers echo staircases which jot up and up arduous ruby landings, hardwood floor cracked and stacks of novels ballast the senescent hallways of bookshops where poets works and journals diaries and memoirs blur the serpentine walls with memories. Angelic the soul which is too often contaminated with avarice rebellious to concord living harmonious midst dew grass and calm waters in residential lakes empathy equanimity, far from Bodhisattva. Few kinds of darkness transcendental subduing other darkness to a weak shadow. There's an importance to admiring the delirium of metropolitan roads on roads this intricate unspoken connection to those who rest by stoplights and crawling traffic metallic molten aura of cars in July heat. Paying attention to the open window of adjacent apartments where Mr. Norris waters his tulips and shares this moment modern meditations practiced finding a balance in such an anxious volatile world like this. Oh ferocious angels, impetuous forlorn seraphs, sing! sing and soar! Boundless is our ardor and our passion. Unenclosed is the lion in it's bloom.
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43
Wild Honey Badger: The Punk Rocker of the wild. Fight for your right to party. Wild Honey Badger: The Chuck Norris of the wild. Fear itself fears you. Wild Honey Badger: Comedically psychopathic, Like Frank in Blue Velvet. Respect the Honey Badgers and they will, most likely, Still not respect you.
0
Dec 12, 2018
Dec 12, 2018 at 6:18 PM UTC
Honey Badger
Tales of the Texas Rangers: The Legend of Tom Brady’s Shirt Texas is rich with tales of old Heroes, villains, San Saba’s gold Once Aztecs ruled our shores and bays And Tejas roamed the forest ways Here in this sunburnt arid land Comanches bold made their last stand Karankawas, Apaches too - All sorts of tales, and mostly true Nueva Espana, then Mexico Rebellion and the Alamo But the strangest tale, we now assert Is the mystery of Tom Brady’s shirt Missing it is, after the game Who is the thief? Who is to blame? Dan Patrick, the lieutenant-guv He swore by all the stars above And most of all by that one Star That’s flown in every saloon and bar He’d catch that creep, and make him hurt Whoever pinched Tom Brady’s shirt So in this time of ******* danger He called upon each Texas Ranger His voice was low, but cold as steel: “Y’all brang that mangy cur to heel; Load your weapons, and saddle up!” Each Ranger answered with a “Yup.” All Rangers, now, be on alert: Somebody rustled Tom Brady’s shirt Every Texan expects your best (Tom Brady is our honored guest) He can’t go home in just his jeans So find his jersey, by any means Remember - not a blouse or skirt; You’re looking for the poor man’s shirt That’s why you Rangers are paid so much - Search every ****** and hovel and hutch Somewhere under the Texas skies An outlaw hides, and probably cries He shamed his state and he shamed his mama And the only end to all this drama Will come upon him like wind and dust And a voice will command (with great disgust) “Stand and deliver, you ugly varmint! Hold up your hands, and drop that garment!” “Oh, Texas Ranger, tell me true: How did you find me? I feel so blue!” And the Ranger will sing softly: “The shirt of a stranger is upon you…”1 y colorín, colorado y este cuento se ha acabado, y’all 1Apologies to Chuck Norris
0
Feb 8, 2017
Feb 8, 2017 at 9:01 PM UTC
Tales of the Texas Rangers: The Legend of Tom Brady's Shirt
Tales of the Texas Rangers: The Legend of Tom Brady’s Shirt Texas is rich with tales of old Heroes, villains, San Saba’s gold Once Aztecs ruled our shores and bays And Tejas roamed the forest ways Here in this sunburnt arid land Comanches bold made their last stand Karankawas, Apaches too - All sorts of tales, and mostly true Nueva Espana, then Mexico Rebellion and the Alamo But the strangest tale, we now assert Is the mystery of Tom Brady’s shirt Missing it is, after the game Who is the thief? Who is to blame? Dan Patrick, the lieutenant-guv He swore by all the stars above And most of all by that one Star That’s flown in every saloon and bar He’d catch that creep, and make him hurt Whoever pinched Tom Brady’s shirt So in this time of ******* danger He called upon each Texas Ranger His voice was low, but cold as steel: “Y’all brang that mangy cur to heel; Load your weapons, and saddle up!” Each Ranger answered with a “Yup.” All Rangers, now, be on alert: Somebody rustled Tom Brady’s shirt Every Texan expects your best (Tom Brady is our honored guest) He can’t go home in just his jeans So find his jersey, by any means Remember - not a blouse or skirt; You’re looking for the poor man’s shirt That’s why you Rangers are paid so much - Search every ****** and hovel and hutch Somewhere under the Texas skies An outlaw hides, and probably cries He shamed his state and he shamed his mama And the only end to all this drama Will come upon him like wind and dust And a voice will command (with great disgust) “Stand and deliver, you ugly varmint! Hold up your hands, and drop that garment!” “Oh, Texas Ranger, tell me true: How did you find me? I feel so blue!” And the Ranger will sing softly: “The shirt of a stranger is upon you…”1 y colorín, colorado y este cuento se ha acabado, y’all 1Apologies to Chuck Norris
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52
Only LOVE can save Earth and all living creations upon it. But to LOVE, one must first be loved. That is why it is imperative that the embryo must be loved. Then the infant, then the toddler, then the child, then the teenager, and so on. If you have never been loved, or not enough, you will have problems, serious problems. But it is never too late to be loved. I was not loved by my mom and dad. They had a terribly miserable marriage for 36 years. Neither was emotionally capable of loving me. But our maid, Maggie Woods, bless her heart, loved me. Did I care that her skin was black? If you have a garden that is drying up, do you care if it rains? Maggie loved me. She fixed me two poached eggs, grits (she grew up in southern Texas), and two slices of toasted wholewheat bread buttered every morning for years. She washed my clothes. If I needed a spanking, she spanked me. If I needed a hug, she hugged me. I could feel Maggie's LOVE. My biological mother never entered my bedroom when I was in it. Maggie did. I remember one incident in particular. I was a kid. I was sick in bed. I distinctly remember Maggie coming into my room with something to eat and a Squirt to drink. I had never drunk a Squirt before, but apparently Maggie loved it. (Maggie and Floyd, her husband, lived in our house in an apartment on the third floor.)  The Squirt unconsciously symbolized her LOVE for me. In my early 30s, I entered psychotherapy with Dr. Patricia Norris at the famous Menninger Foundation. We used what I was to refer to as "unguided" imagery. (Most refer to this modality as guided imaginary,) I worked with Pat, as I came to call her, a long time. In short, the way it worked was that as we sat in our chairs, we both closed our eyes and waited for something to come into my mind, which I then would share with Pat. The long story was that Pat became my surrogate mother. We experienced many loving moments in our "unguided" imagery. The LOVE I felt from Pat, though through imagery, was real. I was finally and fully loved, and that made me who I am today. Hate is not the opposite of love. It is the absence of love. Those who suffer from the paucity of LOVE unconsciously try to compensate for its dearth through becoming wealthy, then mega wealthy;  by garnering fame;  or by accruing power. None works. But LOVE works. The more of it you share, the more you have to share. Earth suffers so greatly from the lack of LOVE that it is dying. But even if one human being feels love, that love can spread like wildfire. Let's hope the wildfire of LOVE spreads over Earth entirely and soon. It is utterly plausible that it can happen. TOD HOWARD HAWKS
0
Jan 27, 2021
Jan 27, 2021 at 3:01 PM UTC
LOVE
Only LOVE can save Earth and all living creations upon it. But to LOVE, one must first be loved. That is why it is imperative that the embryo must be loved. Then the infant, then the toddler, then the child, then the teenager, and so on. If you have never been loved, or not enough, you will have problems, serious problems. But it is never too late to be loved. I was not loved by my mom and dad. They had a terribly miserable marriage for 36 years. Neither was emotionally capable of loving me. But our maid, Maggie Woods, bless her heart, loved me. Did I care that her skin was black? If you have a garden that is drying up, do you care if it rains? Maggie loved me. She fixed me two poached eggs, grits (she grew up in southern Texas), and two slices of toasted wholewheat bread buttered every morning for years. She washed my clothes. If I needed a spanking, she spanked me. If I needed a hug, she hugged me. I could feel Maggie's LOVE. My biological mother never entered my bedroom when I was in it. Maggie did. I remember one incident in particular. I was a kid. I was sick in bed. I distinctly remember Maggie coming into my room with something to eat and a Squirt to drink. I had never drunk a Squirt before, but apparently Maggie loved it. (Maggie and Floyd, her husband, lived in our house in an apartment on the third floor.)  The Squirt unconsciously symbolized her LOVE for me. In my early 30s, I entered psychotherapy with Dr. Patricia Norris at the famous Menninger Foundation. We used what I was to refer to as "unguided" imagery. (Most refer to this modality as guided imaginary,) I worked with Pat, as I came to call her, a long time. In short, the way it worked was that as we sat in our chairs, we both closed our eyes and waited for something to come into my mind, which I then would share with Pat. The long story was that Pat became my surrogate mother. We experienced many loving moments in our "unguided" imagery. The LOVE I felt from Pat, though through imagery, was real. I was finally and fully loved, and that made me who I am today. Hate is not the opposite of love. It is the absence of love. Those who suffer from the paucity of LOVE unconsciously try to compensate for its dearth through becoming wealthy, then mega wealthy;  by garnering fame;  or by accruing power. None works. But LOVE works. The more of it you share, the more you have to share. Earth suffers so greatly from the lack of LOVE that it is dying. But even if one human being feels love, that love can spread like wildfire. Let's hope the wildfire of LOVE spreads over Earth entirely and soon. It is utterly plausible that it can happen. TOD HOWARD HAWKS
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16
Eve and Steve love drinking sherry getting merry so dose Mary really scary, she has eyes for all the guys. Jane told Wayne that Jim´s a pain and then ran off with his mate Shane. Gary is the one for Carrie, the one she really wants to marry and Doris who´s a florist really fancies Boris whose older brother Norris drives a nineteen sixties Morris. Now, Pat who lives in her own flat has eyes for Jim because he´s slim she really has a thing for him, and her friend Sandie´s sister Mandy is going out with a bloke called Randy, whose friend is Wayne....Sandie´s latest flame. Scary Mary longs for John who´s cousin Peter is dating Rita, she´s Steve´s youngest sister, his older sister Pam is going to marry Sam whose brother Terry loves drinking sherry............
0
May 14, 2016
May 14, 2016 at 5:52 PM UTC
Drinking Sherry
Conversation has become A chain of phrases, one by one. Motions are rehearsed in song Like YouTube Comments, in the wrong. Trolls are lawling in their crypt Of rocky couches. They’re the hip Of fame for ten plus five, or Replies so long you must ‘See More…’ People say:            ‘Century twenty plus one—            Where things are thought and said and done            In Memes—We have epic skill.’            Say this, we always will. Few have seen ROFLcopters Fly between before and afters. From ones who make no livin, Not a single **** was given About Chuck Norris being A bible-thumper (or being A terrible actor). Nah. The Interwebs is home for all. People might say:            ‘Century twenty plus one—            Where things were dreamt and wished and done            In words—They had all the skill.’            Say this, we hope they will. The fad of freedom is gone. Forums closed. No statuses on Facebook. Nothing has been kept In life after the Internet. How did this happen to US?   Z-Day and the Day Zero fuss Released Mayan, canny ******** Our demise was writ, bit by bit. People will say:            ‘Century twenty plus one—            Where things were lame but lots of fun            For free—Then they passed the bill.’            Say this, we know they will. The avunculicide of Sam Reveals the brighter side of spam.
0
Jun 23, 2012
Jun 23, 2012 at 3:35 PM UTC
Inter.net: a prochecy
Conversation has become A chain of phrases, one by one. Motions are rehearsed in song Like YouTube Comments, in the wrong. Trolls are lawling in their crypt Of rocky couches. They’re the hip Of fame for ten plus five, or Replies so long you must ‘See More…’ People say:            ‘Century twenty plus one—            Where things are thought and said and done            In Memes—We have epic skill.’            Say this, we always will. Few have seen ROFLcopters Fly between before and afters. From ones who make no livin, Not a single **** was given About Chuck Norris being A bible-thumper (or being A terrible actor). Nah. The Interwebs is home for all. People might say:            ‘Century twenty plus one—            Where things were dreamt and wished and done            In words—They had all the skill.’            Say this, we hope they will. The fad of freedom is gone. Forums closed. No statuses on Facebook. Nothing has been kept In life after the Internet. How did this happen to US?   Z-Day and the Day Zero fuss Released Mayan, canny ******** Our demise was writ, bit by bit. People will say:            ‘Century twenty plus one—            Where things were lame but lots of fun            For free—Then they passed the bill.’            Say this, we know they will. The avunculicide of Sam Reveals the brighter side of spam.
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41
A letter to my dear, Sons and daughters In a foreign language Not known in my time, But with hope in yours. Where they may have fixed the Imbalance of life. I wish not to depress you, But repress your mind As my first impression is to point A finger to time The one whom answers Questions in installments. For this man once put me on stage And my agenda was to impress Twice to the infinite I could count But I couldn’t find that one in my life. Where are you? Thus the nature I was born in, Is to interest the world And not bore it with normality Not knowing that peace comes in many ways For this foreign language Seems to be a new era Of blank pages that could be Filled with one word GREATNESS. For yesterday I did things of shame That are great for a story That would become fame Just the perfect ice breaker in my time. Tip for if you ever find\have TIMEtoTRAVEL Thus my vote belonged to extinction, Since… Justice is a commodity Of the rich As poverty is beautiful Beautiful without the eye’s of the lens. Though I don’t have doesn’t mean Am not/I can’t As My sight is set to the sky Chasing a flower in the clouds as I am still on the ground investing an idea. Thus the gap of the market to success Is the economics of humanities fate As the scarcity of fear rises Demand and supply seem to be losing In a relation of ships At  bay lacking goods. On this graphic coordinates Just may you understand Humanity has no time to Find you in the dark For smoke signals will be put out Neither translate your existence If it’s not the curiosity that killed the cat. Like “Chuck Norris whom speaks French in Russian”. For they live on a constant Quote status of “I am available, but busy At school watching a movie, While at work With a battery about to die So I can’t talk, Whats App only In a meeting at the gym Sleeping on urgent calls only.” As I myself live knowing I speak a FOREIGN LANGUAGE …… What is your translation of my existence??? For it seems your mistaken and troubled. For generations to come. Yours sincerely; Poet Kiri N. HANNY L. PS: Life has gone digital        Thus its STATUS RATED ®.                                      Yours truly;                                        Is to be the ONE. ©Hansmind, 2016
0
Jan 17, 2016
Jan 17, 2016 at 3:07 PM UTC
FOREIGN LANGAUGE
A letter to my dear, Sons and daughters In a foreign language Not known in my time, But with hope in yours. Where they may have fixed the Imbalance of life. I wish not to depress you, But repress your mind As my first impression is to point A finger to time The one whom answers Questions in installments. For this man once put me on stage And my agenda was to impress Twice to the infinite I could count But I couldn’t find that one in my life. Where are you? Thus the nature I was born in, Is to interest the world And not bore it with normality Not knowing that peace comes in many ways For this foreign language Seems to be a new era Of blank pages that could be Filled with one word GREATNESS. For yesterday I did things of shame That are great for a story That would become fame Just the perfect ice breaker in my time. Tip for if you ever find\have TIMEtoTRAVEL Thus my vote belonged to extinction, Since… Justice is a commodity Of the rich As poverty is beautiful Beautiful without the eye’s of the lens. Though I don’t have doesn’t mean Am not/I can’t As My sight is set to the sky Chasing a flower in the clouds as I am still on the ground investing an idea. Thus the gap of the market to success Is the economics of humanities fate As the scarcity of fear rises Demand and supply seem to be losing In a relation of ships At  bay lacking goods. On this graphic coordinates Just may you understand Humanity has no time to Find you in the dark For smoke signals will be put out Neither translate your existence If it’s not the curiosity that killed the cat. Like “Chuck Norris whom speaks French in Russian”. For they live on a constant Quote status of “I am available, but busy At school watching a movie, While at work With a battery about to die So I can’t talk, Whats App only In a meeting at the gym Sleeping on urgent calls only.” As I myself live knowing I speak a FOREIGN LANGUAGE …… What is your translation of my existence??? For it seems your mistaken and troubled. For generations to come. Yours sincerely; Poet Kiri N. HANNY L. PS: Life has gone digital        Thus its STATUS RATED ®.                                      Yours truly;                                        Is to be the ONE. ©Hansmind, 2016
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There when I needed you I'd give anything to be with you I'm crazy about you even though you're so far away with you my black heart stays years and distance separate us we grew stronger without insane lust but a love so strong it could bench press time Pull off Chuck Norris's beard and crush a grapevine can I help it if you're amazing intervention is what I need I'm addicted to you, like a kid with a stick or a dragon that's grazing on sheep you're so unique even though you say that you're ordinary or everyday well I disagree you mean a lot to me And I think you were brought here on angels wings
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Dec 17, 2014
Dec 17, 2014 at 12:53 AM UTC
Angels Wings
Standing on the corner Future in my case Waiting to hear the bumping Of your fresh chevy bass Yes your a modern woman I'm an ancient man And i still can't figure out why You ever took my hand I've died a million lifetimes Filled the seas of blue Regretting all the ***** things I had done to you I recall an angel crying Aside the sunlit lake The heartache in your eyes Could make Chuck Norris break Time has passed and steadied We went our own ways But without you I have no meaning In my sorry days We had days with frozen smiles I wish that was still true I'll spend the rest of my life trying To make it up to you The beats are growing louder My life is pulling in I take a deep breath and walk on up "Hello there again."
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Mar 12, 2017
Mar 12, 2017 at 3:09 AM UTC
Fresh Chevy Bass
Oops! There I go Chasing that **** white rabbit Wouldn't you know it I tripped and fell down his hole Arms flailing trying to grasp a hold Passing by roots and sediment Seeing places of before Finally landing in a land unknown *feels like Alice in wonderland... changed to Alice in Wonderful..... The bright flashing lights Tall skyscrapers touched the tips of clouds As automobiles whirred past. No this was no wonderland This was wonderful As I drew breath On a contaminated scent.* Things have been flipped What was up now down What once was sweet Turned sour on the tongue I cannot trust a thing Here my eyes are truly deceived Right is wrong Wrong is right To trust my own heart That I don't know This wonderful land Beats to a different type of band *Left has become right Every turn taken Is another chance To become lost. My heart sings a tune calming my soul this wonderful land cleanses my mind. I guess I've been here long enough To feel a different Kind of love.* Pulled from the darkest recesses of my mind My demons silenced Here in this wonderful Upside down world
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Apr 20, 2016
Apr 20, 2016 at 6:31 PM UTC
Alice in Wonderful (collaboration between Karina Norris-Veirs and Star Gazer)
Every journal I own is filled with invisible ink, waiting. Waiting like Chuck Norris, for the action of writing! The words are all there, written with care, no shadows or mirrors, neither does Chuck Norris need shadows OR mirrors. He and the inked pages, are invisible , to the naked eye, waiting for action. The action of putting a pen to those words is like Chuck Norris springing across the room or words spilling across the blank page! Inevitable and exciting, but first a disclaimer, so if you continue to read, as the author or poet, I, cannot guarantee that your senses will not be assaulted, though your imagination will be tested. In the end who will be left standing, who will be bested Chuck Norris or you?
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Jan 30, 2013
Jan 30, 2013 at 12:25 AM UTC
You or Chuck Norris (with apologies in advance)
Ya Know It REALLY IS... !!! England’s STILL A ***** !!! Linton’s Words of Scripture... Were Those of Honest Pictures... !!! That Showed What It Is... To... Try To Live... Inna’ English Lands... When You Are BLACK... !!! Well Unlike Him... I Was Born And Raised... In A Place That CLAIMS... To Be The... “ GREAT UK “... Well Britain Or England... But Now The Ships Sinking... Because Heads DIDN'T Listen... !?! To... Linton’s CLEAR Vision... Cos’ It’s STILL A ***** !!! A Country FULL of Tricks... And Working Practises... That Makes The Masses SLAVE... To Earn Themselves A Wage... So That They Can Get A Break... From Working For Low Pay... While MP’s Pave The Way... For... CORRUPTION of The State... !!! So These Words Here Are TRUE... !!! ... England’s STILL A ***** !!! If You’re NOT IN... “ Their Crew “... !!! Bureaucrats Who Sit and Plan... How To Tax and Scam... The... Average Man... !!!! And Let’s Not Forget... About... Immigrants... !!! Like Linton Said In His Poem... They Use You... ABUSE You... Spit You Out And Then ***** You... !!! From Legal Tricks... To... Political Stings... That’s Right Like BREXIT... !?!?! Now Ain’t THAT A ***** !!! Political NONSENSE... Causing Folks PROBLEMS... !!! Because of These Wrongun’s... From BRONSONS' To JOHNSONS'... !!! NOT Linton But BORIS... !!! A Chuck With NO Norris... !!! Whose Talk Can Be HORRID... !!! So YES It’s A ***** !!!!! I’ve Just Revamped The Script... !!! From Windrush' To Brexit'... We STILL DON'T..... Fit In... When You THINK And Have Skin... That’s DARK And Marks Cards... of The... Whitest Of Hearts... !!!! UNLESS You Will FOLD... And Do As You’re Told... Like Those Good Slaves of Old... !!!!! From Being Called Lazy... We’re Still Seen As Shady... Because of Things Lately... Like Street Crime That’s CRAZY... !?! Well I Guess I’m That Baby... Whose Now Become Brainy... Who Sees That The Word... ...... “ STATELY'S “... Connected To Hades... !!!! Which Is Where ******* LIVE... !!!!! So Trust When I Say This... Linton... Made The Trip... And Explained The Sitch' Quick... Through His Truthful Lyrics... That Inspired This Script... That’s An OLD... NEW LIK' ... That I’ve... Changed Up A Bit... !!! Which Reflects On The Fact... That..... ... “ Ingland’s Still A ***** ! “...
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Sep 30, 2021
Sep 30, 2021 at 6:33 PM UTC
'Ya Know It Really Is ! (Ingland’s Still A Bitch)' ... A Poem written by Big Virge 21/7/2019
Ya Know It REALLY IS... !!! England’s STILL A ***** !!! Linton’s Words of Scripture... Were Those of Honest Pictures... !!! That Showed What It Is... To... Try To Live... Inna’ English Lands... When You Are BLACK... !!! Well Unlike Him... I Was Born And Raised... In A Place That CLAIMS... To Be The... “ GREAT UK “... Well Britain Or England... But Now The Ships Sinking... Because Heads DIDN'T Listen... !?! To... Linton’s CLEAR Vision... Cos’ It’s STILL A ***** !!! A Country FULL of Tricks... And Working Practises... That Makes The Masses SLAVE... To Earn Themselves A Wage... So That They Can Get A Break... From Working For Low Pay... While MP’s Pave The Way... For... CORRUPTION of The State... !!! So These Words Here Are TRUE... !!! ... England’s STILL A ***** !!! If You’re NOT IN... “ Their Crew “... !!! Bureaucrats Who Sit and Plan... How To Tax and Scam... The... Average Man... !!!! And Let’s Not Forget... About... Immigrants... !!! Like Linton Said In His Poem... They Use You... ABUSE You... Spit You Out And Then ***** You... !!! From Legal Tricks... To... Political Stings... That’s Right Like BREXIT... !?!?! Now Ain’t THAT A ***** !!! Political NONSENSE... Causing Folks PROBLEMS... !!! Because of These Wrongun’s... From BRONSONS' To JOHNSONS'... !!! NOT Linton But BORIS... !!! A Chuck With NO Norris... !!! Whose Talk Can Be HORRID... !!! So YES It’s A ***** !!!!! I’ve Just Revamped The Script... !!! From Windrush' To Brexit'... We STILL DON'T..... Fit In... When You THINK And Have Skin... That’s DARK And Marks Cards... of The... Whitest Of Hearts... !!!! UNLESS You Will FOLD... And Do As You’re Told... Like Those Good Slaves of Old... !!!!! From Being Called Lazy... We’re Still Seen As Shady... Because of Things Lately... Like Street Crime That’s CRAZY... !?! Well I Guess I’m That Baby... Whose Now Become Brainy... Who Sees That The Word... ...... “ STATELY'S “... Connected To Hades... !!!! Which Is Where ******* LIVE... !!!!! So Trust When I Say This... Linton... Made The Trip... And Explained The Sitch' Quick... Through His Truthful Lyrics... That Inspired This Script... That’s An OLD... NEW LIK' ... That I’ve... Changed Up A Bit... !!! Which Reflects On The Fact... That..... ... “ Ingland’s Still A ***** ! “...
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Norris turned around and looked back Biggs was beside him. Hey Coles I could beat you in a fight couldn't I? Benedict nodded guess so he said. O'Brien was beside him at the back of class. Norris asked other boys who likewise acquiesced. You could take him O'Brien said in Benedict's ear. I know that and you know that but he doesn't Benedict said it's Biggs who's the problem he follows Norris   around like a big bulldog. Norris turned around to the front of class. There was chatter amongst the boys as the teacher hadn't showed yet. One whack in Biggs's fat guts and he'll go down O'Brien said. You reckon? Benedict said looking at Biggs's wide back and large head. Sure he'd go down O'Brien said. If Norris tries it on I'll thump his nose Benedict said and see what Biggs's does. The door opened and Lee the science teacher entered the room the boys stood up the chatter stopped. You could as the saying goes hear a pin drop.
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Mar 29, 2017
Mar 29, 2017 at 3:23 AM UTC
NORRIS'S ILLUSION 1959.
her voice soft as silk the light strum of a guitar or the sound of a pastel sunrise peeking past the horizon -polina norris
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Jan 31, 2019
Jan 31, 2019 at 6:51 PM UTC
her voice
her heart overflowing with kindness so much she was basically choking on it trying to mend the world by giving some of her humanity away to those who lacked any to those suffocated by their cruelty until she had no more kindness to give she too was drowning in hostility -polina norris
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Feb 4, 2019
Feb 4, 2019 at 9:46 PM UTC
world of no mercy