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"oop" poems
I'm drowning, I'm drowning, In a sea of regrets and torture. I'm drowning, I'm drowning, The anchor's too heavy. I'm drowning, I'm drowning, Hold my hand and lift me up. I'm drowning, I'm drowning, Just save me from my seas. Dispirited am I, To be myself and embrace the world. Cut the threads of reality from my veins, I am not worthy of this. I am empathetic yet heartless. I am mad and saddened. Feel my walls slowly crumble, Feel the cold blood gush from my veins, I am dead to myself. I am dead to myself. I am dead to myself. Nothing contains the darkness anymore; It reeks everywhere I am. This madman's too crazy to say those four letters. Hop, rabbit, for the clock ticks faster than ever before. Endless worries will flood your head. Loop in a spiral of insanity, Play the broken tunes you hid for too long. Toyed are you too much That tears never fall from your eyes no more, Yet you still feel the pain. Turn back to reality, See the crumbling of You. I'm drowning, I'm drowning. See my body float in your despair. I'm drowning, I'm drowning, See my frozen heart shatter. I'm drowning, I'm drowning, Drain the murky waters. I'm drowning, I'm drowning, See me in moss and algae. I'm drowning, I'm drowning, Hell never felt so cold. I'm drowning, I'm drowning, Evergreen is the anchor that pins me to havoc. I'm drowning, I'm drowning, Let the ocean floor eat me alive. I'm drowning, I'm drowning, Plague all with the decay of my soul.
0
Jun 6, 2016
Jun 6, 2016 at 1:28 PM UTC
Waterhell
Jy was my maaitjie, Vol lewe, vol praatjie... Jy en jou “ninnie” Nou is jy nie meer hier nie Behalwe in my hart… Lieflike sommers dag, Julle swem en lag, In huis toe om te eet, Scrambled eggs, of het jy al vergeet? Jy gaan buitentoe, klaar geëet, Swembad oop – ons het vergeet. Na ‘n ruk soek Rina jou, Hol buitentoe, sy het onthou… En daar lê jy, die water koud, Mietie spring in, jou pols is oud. Boet is vinnig, bel hospitaal, Maar Rina is koud, Rina is vaal… Want liewe Jesus het haar baba seuntjie kom haal. Ek pyn nogsteeds 10 jaar later, My maaitjie, Jy – onder die water. Familie kind, die helder liggie Dof skyn nou jou gesiggie – Behalwe in my hart…
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Nov 11, 2013
Nov 11, 2013 at 3:35 PM UTC
Huldeblyk aan André (Afrikaans)
In my droom wereld... Daar, in die verte, is n bed vir as ek moeg raak. n Berg wat ek gebruik as n kuns muur. En n oop veld vol rose. Bo my, die blou lug met reen druppels wat val, maar wat nie nat maak nie. My gedagtes wat rond sweef. musiek wat gehoor word maar nie gesien word nie. En dan, jy. n Bed vir my en jou. Jou naam op die berg met klippe, gevorm soos harte, gepak. n Oop veld rose wat jou emosie kleur wys. Reen druppels wat val, wys my jou trane. My gedagtes wat vir jou wys *** spesiaal jy is vir my. Musiek om als te laat kalmeer. En jy, vir my om lief te he, sonder om te stres oor wat jy sal **** of se as jy weet jy is die een wat ek wil he.
0
Oct 22, 2014
Oct 22, 2014 at 3:30 PM UTC
In my droom wereld...
What are the odds of finding someone - who can finish your sentences - who will let you cut in line - who knows not to just lend a hand, or an ear when you need them to give you their spine - who will keep every secret, save every letter, tell you how you really look who will remember every single one of your birthdays - without checking Facebook? What are the odds of finding someone who knows your poetry by heart ? I will always see you for the alley-oop. I will always save you a seat. I will always pick you to be my partner even though you are terrible at handball. When the fire takes all you have, my home will be your home. When you are old and can no longer remember my face, I will meet you for the first time again and again. When they make fun of your accent, I will take you swimming because we all sound the same underwater. When Ellis Island tries to erase your past, I will call you by your real name. When they call your number for the draft, I will enlist to fight beside you. And I will march with you from Selma to Montgomery and back as many times as it takes. We will stand together against the horses and the dogs - They could tell you how rare this is. But they could tell you how rare this always is. The chances are slim. The cards are always stacked against you, the odds are always low. But I have seen the best of you, and the worst of you, and I choose both. I want to share every single one of your sunshines and save some for later. I will tuck them into my pockets so I can give them back to you when the rains fall hard. Love- I want to be the mirror that reminds you to love yourself. I want to be air in your lungs that reminds you to breathe easy. When the walls come down - when the thunder rumbles - when nobody else is home, hold my hand - and I promise - I won't let go.
0
Dec 20, 2014
Dec 20, 2014 at 2:38 AM UTC
rare promises
What are the odds of finding someone - who can finish your sentences - who will let you cut in line - who knows not to just lend a hand, or an ear when you need them to give you their spine - who will keep every secret, save every letter, tell you how you really look who will remember every single one of your birthdays - without checking Facebook? What are the odds of finding someone who knows your poetry by heart ? I will always see you for the alley-oop. I will always save you a seat. I will always pick you to be my partner even though you are terrible at handball. When the fire takes all you have, my home will be your home. When you are old and can no longer remember my face, I will meet you for the first time again and again. When they make fun of your accent, I will take you swimming because we all sound the same underwater. When Ellis Island tries to erase your past, I will call you by your real name. When they call your number for the draft, I will enlist to fight beside you. And I will march with you from Selma to Montgomery and back as many times as it takes. We will stand together against the horses and the dogs - They could tell you how rare this is. But they could tell you how rare this always is. The chances are slim. The cards are always stacked against you, the odds are always low. But I have seen the best of you, and the worst of you, and I choose both. I want to share every single one of your sunshines and save some for later. I will tuck them into my pockets so I can give them back to you when the rains fall hard. Love- I want to be the mirror that reminds you to love yourself. I want to be air in your lungs that reminds you to breathe easy. When the walls come down - when the thunder rumbles - when nobody else is home, hold my hand - and I promise - I won't let go.
Continue reading...
33
Teen die hange van die berge-nag Speel die donker op die ligte sag Die kalm daal op die chaos-stad Van klank en mense op elke kronkel pad Dit voer jou mee in 'n sterre mat In skoon lug met 'n oop kop Kan gedagtes net vloei en skrop Aan dinge wat is en kom Aan mens wees, goed en krom Aan die eenvoud en dit wat verstom Woorde lê in 'n niks-wees dwaal Dis rou, dit is maar net  -  dis kaal Net om die stemme wat skree te verlos Dinge wat 'n uitlaat soek in die kosmos Dit het ink gevind, soos vuur in fynbos
0
Jul 12, 2016
Jul 12, 2016 at 4:53 AM UTC
Berge in die nag
Hier onder die afdak staan ons nou Sjuijt! Bly stil! Gouwsie gaan ons in hou. Vir ‘n **** praat Mnr. Smit nou, So ‘n langtam, papbek manier van woorde kou Lees ‘n versie, Gluur vir Stoute Daan, Begin toe bid, Maar wat gaan nou aan? My hartjie pyn, nie fisies seer.. Dis verlange wat my hart so skeur. Met oë toe en ore oop Klink Smitie net sos Oupa Hendrik, Terug van die dood.
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Jan 20, 2014
Jan 20, 2014 at 1:13 PM UTC
Verlang na Pyn
Here gee my krag elke dag. My pyn wil nie verdwyn. My hart raak swaar want die jaar is net nog een van baie waar ek uit roep na U om hulp. U genade is groot en ek glo dat U n plan berade het om my pyn te laat verdwyn. My lewe is in U hande en ek weet U sal my bande los maak en my vry laat loop oop in n lewe van liefde en vrede. *** wonderlik die oomblik van geen pyn, my gebede beantwoord en die pyn het verdwyn volmaak aan geraak en geseen deur n genesende hand van bo.
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Dec 20, 2016
Dec 20, 2016 at 1:46 AM UTC
My sussie se gebed...
Sprei jou vlerke My struikel-kind , want die berge se rante Steek skerp teen die wind Vlug vir jou onskuld Vlug na die son Vlieg weg van Gamora ontsnap van ***** Vlieg ver oor die wolke My struikel-kind Daars ń storm wat broei , maar hou jouself blind Want sere en blase Word gou-gou weer heel Maar geen pleister plak toe Die letsel van *** Honger hande neig Om jou kinderlikke onskuld van jou af weg te steel... Sprei oop jou vlerke My struikel-kind Want die berge se kranse Hang laag in die wind Kruip weg vir die hande Wat jou wil verslind En keer terug na jou kinderdae Om jouself weer te vind... Liefde... Van ń kaalvoet-kind
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May 5, 2014
May 5, 2014 at 5:33 PM UTC
kaalvoetkind
My bed verlang na ewewig En kantel as ek lê, My arm kweek ń onwrikbare Verlange na ń glimlag wat Daarteen druk en Selfs nou en dan Speels byt. Die ysere Koue wat Dwing om In my oop Arms te Kom rus. My kat spin hard op my bors, Duidelik in haar skik met die Wete dat sy, vir nou Op jou geresserveerde kussing Kan lê En met Daardie Wete Verlekker Sy haarself In my Ellende Die leemte hier is groter as net die Dubbelbed oop spasie op my Queensize bed en die lieflike geeste wat deur my arms gly En giggel Want ek Wag vir Iets wat Dalk nie Kom nie Dalk is dit beter so, want as jy my innerlike konflik ook soos ń kakofonie Van dromme Teen die mure van jou koglea kon voel dans, was hierdie leemte nog Meer leeg As ooit Tevore En sou My contact List net Soos my bed Geraak het... Die wind wat deur my hartskrake seifer, Fluister jou naam En flankeer met My gevoelens.... Hiers ń spasie oop Spesiaal vir jou... Mnr _. -ń tipofrafiese voorbeeld Van digterlike vryheid Verwar vir menslike Eensaamheid...
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Apr 22, 2014
Apr 22, 2014 at 2:40 AM UTC
waar lê jou...
So word ons wakker in ons tent en dit reen...aggenee!! Maar dis koel en ons voel gelukkig. Ek is vuil, so amper dat ek wil huil, maar huil van lekker soos n krekker want dis vakansie tyd!! My hare is so waar deur mekaar, maar wat maak dit saak want niks gaan my keer om vir n gogga te wys *** deur mekaar ek rerig kan weesie... Tanne geborsel en room half gesmeer, laat die dag begin want dis ons en ons ford bakkie die keer...alweer... Kies n rigting en so voeter ons daarin... Saans kom ons by die kamp moeg geploeg die bosse in om nou rustig te raak met n koeldrank in ons hand. Dan word n vuurtjie gemaak deur die braafste ou ini land om n vleisie te braai vir die fraaiste meisie, hand aan hand. Mens voel gou dankbaar vir klein dingetjies soos n stort... n warme een, die oop velde of selfs die digte bosse, die veld blommetjies so geel of die gras so lank en groen, die voels so mooi volle kleurrig en die jakkals so skaam maar nuuskirig. En wanneer dit donker word le daar baie voor soos die uile se geluide, die sonbesies wat hulle vlerkies saam klap of dalk n hihena wat na oorskied kom krap. So geniet ons die bos vol avontuur gepos net vir ons en ons se dankie aan ons Skepper vir n skepping net vir ons. 2016/03/14
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Dec 20, 2016
Dec 20, 2016 at 1:32 AM UTC
Ons avontuur...
ey yo gurl you make me hurl champs back to you for a sweet alley-oop Give xerath a boop right on the head he prolly shoulda read this ain't yogi-bear I fill caskets, not pic-a-nic-baskets feel free to ask it You know I got a task it- Starts and ends with a flip and a stun so don't give me lip about this tent I've got the smores, so don't get bent
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Dec 18, 2014
Dec 18, 2014 at 5:16 PM UTC
Yogi and Boo-Boo
1. You can never go home, not to the home you left. When you leave, you get bigger. Not necessarily in girth, but in consciousness. When you come back,  everything, even the walls of your parent's house, seem to have shrunk. 2. Look..... Here comes the parade. With its paper mache floats and twirling batons. Cub scouts and boy scouts, all in a neat blue and drab green row, followed by a high school marching band playing "Stars and Stripes Forever". From bygone wars, limbless surviving soldiers flinch with every cymbal crash. 3. I watched billows of cottonwood clouds swirl down a summer hometown avenue, they met on the street corner for a song........ "Alley Oop", or "I Like Bread And Butter" These ghostlike voices will live there forever, innocent, asleep, numb, waiting. Soon, the postman will bring your future. Soon, you will be just a number on a lotery ball. Soon, you will have to dissect luck or fate. 4. I took my 87 year old Father to gather his tools from his long time place of work. The instruments of his livelihood. He did not need them anymore, he had retired. Some tools he had used since World War II, some he made for a specific job.... never to use again. All neatly placed in toolboxes built in the 30s and 40s, yet not a trace of rust. These were the tools of a tradesman, a (Tool and Die Man). He once told me, “Son, if I can’t fix it because I don’t have the right tool, I will make the tool”. I thought him to be Superman. But there I was, loading up my Father’s history, to take home, to be sold to the highest bidder.   I myself have made my living playing music for audiences. I also have tools. Guitars, amplifiers, harmonicas, microphones. There will come a day, in the not too distant future, when I will have to “retire” the instruments of my livelihood. Though I will not be as stoic as my World War II Father, I will go kicking and screaming to the pawn shop, remembering every song that fed me, and every chord that made people dance.
0
May 29, 2014
May 29, 2014 at 8:38 PM UTC
A Visit Home (in 4 Acts)
1. You can never go home, not to the home you left. When you leave, you get bigger. Not necessarily in girth, but in consciousness. When you come back,  everything, even the walls of your parent's house, seem to have shrunk. 2. Look..... Here comes the parade. With its paper mache floats and twirling batons. Cub scouts and boy scouts, all in a neat blue and drab green row, followed by a high school marching band playing "Stars and Stripes Forever". From bygone wars, limbless surviving soldiers flinch with every cymbal crash. 3. I watched billows of cottonwood clouds swirl down a summer hometown avenue, they met on the street corner for a song........ "Alley Oop", or "I Like Bread And Butter" These ghostlike voices will live there forever, innocent, asleep, numb, waiting. Soon, the postman will bring your future. Soon, you will be just a number on a lotery ball. Soon, you will have to dissect luck or fate. 4. I took my 87 year old Father to gather his tools from his long time place of work. The instruments of his livelihood. He did not need them anymore, he had retired. Some tools he had used since World War II, some he made for a specific job.... never to use again. All neatly placed in toolboxes built in the 30s and 40s, yet not a trace of rust. These were the tools of a tradesman, a (Tool and Die Man). He once told me, “Son, if I can’t fix it because I don’t have the right tool, I will make the tool”. I thought him to be Superman. But there I was, loading up my Father’s history, to take home, to be sold to the highest bidder.   I myself have made my living playing music for audiences. I also have tools. Guitars, amplifiers, harmonicas, microphones. There will come a day, in the not too distant future, when I will have to “retire” the instruments of my livelihood. Though I will not be as stoic as my World War II Father, I will go kicking and screaming to the pawn shop, remembering every song that fed me, and every chord that made people dance.
Continue reading...
52
Badly played hymn tunes from hungover unemployed miners echoing down the slum streets barely audible over the sounds of Coronation Street on 't telly and the neighbours' uninhibited belching post coitally.
0
Oct 16, 2014
Oct 16, 2014 at 8:13 AM UTC
Brass Band Music Oop North Like
Half a million dollars moved by political giants say our chimera hearts are lion about some parts look about my parts, see fur see teeth, see claws Lions? that's right, We are. Pounce on scorn for these gender norms we're pressing eulogies in binary's for transcribing our identities to hetero70's minded heredity enemies. fixated on tellin' me my parts are prescribed like sedatives, sleepin' on it 'till I'm good and dead, like the rest of them. I love a lion Son of a lion daughter of a lion daddy was a liar mommy was a fighter but I'm not lyin' I've been rhymin' since third grade. back than I said I was a lesbian to try and get laid nobody knows who they are that young Our personalities grey and unsung media does an oli-oop propaganda elected a spoof. a Caricature opposite from any revaluation Who was it that wanted to watch Disney villains start performing Macbeth wrapped in a flag, carrying a privileged crest white owls, burning bathroom signs on crosses Tinder deleted her account For the wrong parts, used the wrong Lions stall. They viewed her as lyin' Aren't we all? Aren't we fake for six months? Jack-o-lantern carving out new masks to try on? The tea lights stay the same keeps flickering sin and shout. If the wind blows just right, I watch them sometimes, burn out.
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Sep 26, 2016
Sep 26, 2016 at 6:39 AM UTC
Love like Lions
Op hierdie aarde, groen en blou Met torings wat die lug uit grou In elke huis waar mens dalk bly Sal ek nooit weer iemand kry soos jy In wye winkels en krom kerke In nommers en vergete merke Waar ryk sweef en arm lei Sal ek nooit weer iemand kry soos jy In stede, woude, see en woestyn In alles, geen, grof en fyn In luuks, skaars, bont en plein Sal ek nooit weer iemand kry soos jy In winter, lente, somer, herfs Met albei vuur en skadu bederf Waar ook al maan en son mag skyn Sal ek nooit weer iemand kry soos jy Waar sterre sing en sonne lag Omring met komberse van die nag Waar ou gode en planete gly Sal ek nooit weer iemand kry soos jy In ou legendes en sprokies verhale In dooie sang en in lewende tale In woorde wat die hart oop sny Sal ek nooit weer iemand kry soos jy In gister se groot verlate vlug In môre se onmeetbare sug In die nou wat ons so graag vermy Sal ek nooit weer iemand kry soos jy In slaap te dig en drome swart In die wandel en wonder van die hart In seer, troos, kwaad en bly Sal ek nooit weer iemand kry soos jy
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Aug 4, 2019
Aug 4, 2019 at 5:17 PM UTC
Iemand soos jy
Daar is n lieflike gevoel in die wind. n Gevoel wat bind, n gevoel wat sink, sink diep in n mens se hart in. Hy praat met n mens soos n boek, n bladsy wat vertel van die Goddelike wind... So gaan die pad voor mens oop en raak gou vol hoop van goeie dinge wat voorle. En so verlang mens dan na iemand, iemand ver, ver weg en seg in jou hart: “Die lewe is soos die wind, die Goddelike wind wat verbind van een hart na n ander”. Want die waai deur mens se hare, die gevoel van koel, maar warm teen mens se wange en die verwaai van gras op plaas paaie is wat ek noem die Goddelike wind, wat bind… van een hart na n ander. 2016/01/21
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Dec 20, 2016
Dec 20, 2016 at 1:38 AM UTC
Die Goddelike wind...
Die velde en berge le honderde myle ver, oop tot by die horison. Al wat ek sien is gras, klippe en bome, en drome van n lewe so vry ver in die valley, groen van reen en geen besoedeling van die besige lewe so ewe of dit al is wat ons het… Die vlaktes bring my gedagtes na n rustigheid. Ek kan ver sien so asof ek my lewe kan sien, die rustigheid wat dit verdien. Ek sien die klein dingetjies raak soos die veldblomme wat blom met n glimlag dag na dag, n lady bug op die tak, die springkaan op die blaar, die miere wat trots hulle kos by mekaar maak vir swaar dae. Doudruppels vroeg oggend net so na die sonsopkoms… Dan voel ek dankbaar, dankbaar vir n lewe wat gegee is sonder vrae Danbaarheid vir n Skepper van mens en natuur. 2016/01/24
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Dec 20, 2016
Dec 20, 2016 at 1:40 AM UTC
Die velde...
Bo op 'n berg Met my bobbejaan gedagtes wat terg Die eggo van my mania skree terug Wat soek jy hier? Ek drink uit die rivier Ek sink my oë in die rooi son Ek **** alweer Die donker wolke Die reën wat kom Ek laat my gedagtes so dans Plek tot plek Gras van Kees En mens en vlees Sny deur my Woede en naaktheid Die lag van 'n sekere malheid En die sagtheid van jou moeder ken En dan meer bring ek twee Van my na die tafel in 'n oop gesprek Met my leemtes en my onbeheerbare Soeke na wat ek herken binne my donker gate Ek dwaal verlate In riviere van die samelewing Die masjien wat liggies trap op ligte wat skyn en verdwyn In die strate van spoed en bloed Die woorde uit die bek van die dier Die ongetemde kwaad van primate Wat stoei met homself en sy produk en sy bestaan en sy wêreld en sy alles Tot hy verval en wegkwyn Verdwyn agter 'n swart gordyn bedoel vir die son en sterre Waarheid en verlossing Waar vind ek die antwoord vir alles?
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Sep 18, 2019
Sep 18, 2019 at 5:40 PM UTC
Bobbejaan Gedagtes
Up on a tight rope, tonight, Are we, Leon?” I am out there with you, Brother. I am in the weeds with you, Babaloo. So, where did you find them? Those Shaka Zulu Warrior Women? “Nola sue tanga, Soo galla galla bee. Nala secala Na saka saka secala,” It’s real trance music, Old Timer! You really straddled the generations, Didn’t you? From “Alley Oop” to “Stranger in a Strange Land.” Leon, you are one cool dude.
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Nov 15, 2016
Nov 15, 2016 at 2:59 PM UTC
“Leon Russell’s Tight Wire”
Me- “D” UP! “D” UP! put them hands up, hands up. And I’m robbing folks on the pass if they slip up. Don’t allow nobody to pass by you, move your feet. Don’t go for every reach, just keep them in front of you my G. They dealing with a team full of experts. Juice & I will double-team, so squad be on high alert. Make them work, cut off those passing lanes and once they turn the ball over, we’ll be gone in an instant. Juice- Aye, look at these wanna be play makers. Zay steal that, now pass that. Cause I’m about to lob that to my boy Doug. BOOM!!! I see you Doug with the 360 alley-oop dunk! YOOO! Ball is thrown in, watch for the pass and skip! Me- No worries I got the ball my guy, don’t trip. Here Juice! Run 54-hip. Juice- Aww snap! Time to **** I’m about to put the boys in their feels! Cross-over stepper, step-back decker. I’m a G.O.A.T. getter, nobody does it better. Weak mismatches and easy pass dishes. Pick & role to the pocket, they can’t stop this. Zay- Man, we about to hurt these fools on the other end too. About to get tortured as we break their hearts in shambles. And when we rock them and stop them at the rim, it’s straight blocking. Even if they try to shoot, BLOCKA, BLOCKA, BLOCKA! Juice- It is what it is fam, to bad they about to lose. Zay- At the end of the day, what the hell they gonna do? Juice- Now this is epic. We got them looking pathetic. I said what I said, ain’t no room to be apologetic.
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Sep 6, 2021
Sep 6, 2021 at 2:58 AM UTC
Let me shoot 🏀 pt. 2
Silent, when required. Silence when needed. Men around one another discuss events dealing with a woman. Some men disagree with the conviction. And all the years it took to convict if the evidence existed for decades. We aware he attended ******* parties and why various marry men go there at the time? Is a mystery only they can explain? Some became mistresses and wives to movie executives and actors and athletes too. With fame, many truly believe he didn't have to take. Many offerings came. These are things men's debate. Even creating scenarios centered around the status of limitations. About things occurred with them with violent women and mother of their child. Should he prosecute? Or wise up and admit it was a learning lesson for the two. We, who had those firm disciplinary parents? Who molded us into productive citizens? Sure we go back to our youth and sue them for multiple whippings. Let's remember, we in the era of the new term used in the shooting of a lot of people called "mental issues". Hate to say it, but most black males long been told to avoid anything dealing with white women. Oop! some just never learned this issues. Most must recall black mothers saying them the most trouble. Mmm Tiger. Mmm Bill. Get not upset any reader this is just a summary cause no man should take advantage of any form of woman.
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Sep 29, 2018
Sep 29, 2018 at 12:02 PM UTC
Cosby, the Debating Game
Everyday I wake up I glance at the sky To get a natural high From spiritual sighs Ha got me head now Filled with sun energy Felt like I was Listen to a clergy Man can you innerstand My wisdom that Sits in my hand Palms never wet An ultimate threat To higher grounds That's why I chill Deep unda the ground (underground) sounds is digital No humpty dumpty Just keep my techs On me they wanna push me Near the wall But I can't Since I got ***** Sweat drippin' soakin' draws Cuz the pressure Made me an outlaw Had no choice to but to Bruise and cruise through Enemies I Put a slug and leave em plugged Electric shock from the glock I'm aimmin at head over the hill's forreals This ain't no shill so just chill As I  **** like bill alley oop A Dunk so you can feel Led in yo head now ya dead bleed Out So that'll give ya something To think about No screams and shouts so Hold on be strong hold on Be Strong Hold on be strong Hold on be strong I ain't gone never led you wrong So hold on Be Strong Cuz I ain't gone never led you wrong So christen that **** yeah Now that the raindrops stop But the reign  didn't stop Thought I was dead But I rise like early sunshine Roosters cluckin' Got these demons tryna **** in Me in my sleep I shake the shells Going crazy naw Its just my mind get lazy Or they purp that hazed me Got keep it True to Screws legacy hive Bump out the jive All the way live In your stereo Can't break me or make me Into a mold Hard to get a hold Of something you Can't touch can't clutch I plot rhymes like ****** from Dutch Shultz my lyrical occult Shakin' fools at the wake Stay baked takin' estates Keep to body Frosted as flakes no undertakes We take Everything from the hand Never took a reprimand Dodge minivans Stacked with multiple Ski mask quick to blast Yo *** in the past Now you in cask-et Racked like bread in a bask-et Led turn em into ac-id tryna hold on But ya soul long gone so Hold on be strong hold on Be Strong Hold on be strong Hold on be strong I ain't gone never led you wrong So hold on Be Strong Cuz I ain't gone never led you wrong So christen that **** yeah
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Sep 22, 2017
Sep 22, 2017 at 3:20 PM UTC
"Hold On, Be a Strong?"
Everyday I wake up I glance at the sky To get a natural high From spiritual sighs Ha got me head now Filled with sun energy Felt like I was Listen to a clergy Man can you innerstand My wisdom that Sits in my hand Palms never wet An ultimate threat To higher grounds That's why I chill Deep unda the ground (underground) sounds is digital No humpty dumpty Just keep my techs On me they wanna push me Near the wall But I can't Since I got ***** Sweat drippin' soakin' draws Cuz the pressure Made me an outlaw Had no choice to but to Bruise and cruise through Enemies I Put a slug and leave em plugged Electric shock from the glock I'm aimmin at head over the hill's forreals This ain't no shill so just chill As I  **** like bill alley oop A Dunk so you can feel Led in yo head now ya dead bleed Out So that'll give ya something To think about No screams and shouts so Hold on be strong hold on Be Strong Hold on be strong Hold on be strong I ain't gone never led you wrong So hold on Be Strong Cuz I ain't gone never led you wrong So christen that **** yeah Now that the raindrops stop But the reign  didn't stop Thought I was dead But I rise like early sunshine Roosters cluckin' Got these demons tryna **** in Me in my sleep I shake the shells Going crazy naw Its just my mind get lazy Or they purp that hazed me Got keep it True to Screws legacy hive Bump out the jive All the way live In your stereo Can't break me or make me Into a mold Hard to get a hold Of something you Can't touch can't clutch I plot rhymes like ****** from Dutch Shultz my lyrical occult Shakin' fools at the wake Stay baked takin' estates Keep to body Frosted as flakes no undertakes We take Everything from the hand Never took a reprimand Dodge minivans Stacked with multiple Ski mask quick to blast Yo *** in the past Now you in cask-et Racked like bread in a bask-et Led turn em into ac-id tryna hold on But ya soul long gone so Hold on be strong hold on Be Strong Hold on be strong Hold on be strong I ain't gone never led you wrong So hold on Be Strong Cuz I ain't gone never led you wrong So christen that **** yeah
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93
So loop ek deur die strate van Paris en voel dadelik tuis; Tuis soos in n vreemde wereld wat juis net vir my gemaak is. Die outydse geboue wat vertel van jare terug, die noue strate wat ver af le amper verby more, die klasieke fietse met klokkies wat "trieng" in die verby gaan na ander plekke, ook die french brode wat jou vertel van vandag en die krag van twee hande wat gebruik is om die smaak in jou gedagtes te laat verdwaal, om n storie te vertel. So loop ek deur die strate van Paris en voel dadelik bly; Bly soos n kind wat haarself bevind in n lewe vol nuwe dinge, vol nuwe betekenisse soos n nuwe paar oe wat oop gaan om te sien en dan te verstaan. Maar die lewe gaan aan met n lank terug en n more wat kom of n vandag wat verby gly na n elke dag; Wat my vertel van n lewe van geluk en plesier om te geniet vandag, elke dag. 2016/07/17
0
Jul 3, 2017
Jul 3, 2017 at 1:39 AM UTC
Vandag
I'm down with OOP You down with OOP? Yeah you know me Somewhere before the code was the Word and the Word was the Class and the Class was the Word In the beginning the Word named the Class God and called an instance ourUniverse This is ourUniverse There are many like it, but this one is ours ourUniverse is our best friend It is ourLife We must master it as we must master ourLife There maybe many other parallel instances but ours is our favorite no butts about it Yeah you know we Who's down with OPP? We're down with OOP
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Nov 24, 2016
Nov 24, 2016 at 9:00 AM UTC
Who's down with OOP?