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"otto" poems
there once was a turtle named Otto who called all the Mexicans "vato" but now he's in heaven choir turtle eleven with a rather nice little vibrato
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May 8, 2012
May 8, 2012 at 2:47 AM UTC
Choir Turtle #11
A gray hippopotamus lived in a zoo At the end of the Tropical Line, Harry the Hippo lived next to the loo Right by the Northern confines. With his wide toothy smile, And his great double chin, He greeted his neighbors With a great hippo grin... Made friends with the deer, Made friends with an owl, Avoided the white scowling bear, Avoided the family of wolves, (He'd heard they liked to eat meat). Decided to friend a great, walloping moose, A challenge, his neighbor seemed rather elite. Tall and severe with a beard on his chin, He stood like a tree on his heavy brown hooves, And branches of antlers stood heavy and grim. "I see we are neighbors,"said Harry the Hippo, "Name's Harry," he said with a grin, "Since it looks like we'll be here a while, ya' know, I figure we ought to be friends!" "Bull" Moose only chewed a bit more on his cud, Burped in the gray hippo's face, Turned his wide antlers for well and for good... He spurned the whole hippo race. But Harry had patience, Had nowhere to go, So he waited a week and a month and a day For Otto the Moose to come 'round, And he did! And now the two of 'em play. Our Harry's advice to you is be nice, And after a while, it comes true.... The balkiest neighbors will have to think twice And fall into friendship with you. (0=
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Jul 22, 2014
Jul 22, 2014 at 10:58 PM UTC
Harry the Hippo and Otto The Moose
Nella Torre il silenzio era già alto. Sussurravano i pioppi del Rio Salto. I cavalli normanni alle lor poste frangean la biada con rumor di croste. Là in fondo la cavalla era, selvaggia, nata tra i pini su la salsa spiaggia; che nelle froge avea del mar gli spruzzi ancora, e gli urli negli orecchi aguzzi. Con su la greppia un gomito, da essa era mia madre; e le dicea sommessa: "O cavallina, cavallina storna, che portavi colui che non ritorna; tu capivi il suo cenno ed il suo detto! Egli ha lasciato un figlio giovinetto; il primo d'otto tra miei figli e figlie; e la sua mano non toccò mai briglie. Tu che ti senti ai fianchi l'uragano, tu dai retta alla sua piccola mano. Tu ch'hai nel cuore la marina brulla, tu dai retta alla sua voce fanciulla". La cavalla volgea la scarna testa verso mia madre, che dicea più mesta: "O cavallina, cavallina storna, che portavi colui che non ritorna; lo so, lo so, che tu l'amavi forte! Con lui c'eri tu sola e la sua morte. O nata in selve tra l'ondate e il vento, tu tenesti nel cuore il tuo spavento; sentendo lasso nella bocca il morso, nel cuor veloce tu premesti il corso: adagio seguitasti la tua via, perché facesse in pace l'agonia... " La scarna lunga testa era daccanto al dolce viso di mia madre in pianto. "O cavallina, cavallina storna, che portavi colui che non ritorna; oh! Due parole egli dové pur dire! E tu capisci, ma non sai ridire. Tu con le briglie sciolte tra le zampe, con dentro gli occhi il fuoco delle vampe, con negli orecchi l'eco degli scoppi, seguitasti la via tra gli alti pioppi: lo riportavi tra il morir del sole, perché udissimo noi le sue parole". Stava attenta la lunga testa fiera. Mia madre l'abbracciò su la criniera "O cavallina, cavallina storna, portavi a casa sua chi non ritorna! A me, chi non ritornerà più mai! Tu fosti buona... Ma parlar non sai! Tu non sai, poverina; altri non osa. Oh! ma tu devi dirmi una cosa! Tu l'hai veduto l'uomo che l'uccise: esso t'è qui nelle pupille fise. Chi fu? Chi è? Ti voglio dire un nome. E tu fa cenno. Dio t'insegni, come". Ora, i cavalli non frangean la biada: dormian sognando il bianco della strada. La paglia non battean con l'unghie vuote: dormian sognando il rullo delle ruote. Mia madre alzò nel gran silenzio un dito: disse un nome... Sonò alto un nitrito.
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3k
La cavalla storna
Nella Torre il silenzio era già alto. Sussurravano i pioppi del Rio Salto. I cavalli normanni alle lor poste frangean la biada con rumor di croste. Là in fondo la cavalla era, selvaggia, nata tra i pini su la salsa spiaggia; che nelle froge avea del mar gli spruzzi ancora, e gli urli negli orecchi aguzzi. Con su la greppia un gomito, da essa era mia madre; e le dicea sommessa: "O cavallina, cavallina storna, che portavi colui che non ritorna; tu capivi il suo cenno ed il suo detto! Egli ha lasciato un figlio giovinetto; il primo d'otto tra miei figli e figlie; e la sua mano non toccò mai briglie. Tu che ti senti ai fianchi l'uragano, tu dai retta alla sua piccola mano. Tu ch'hai nel cuore la marina brulla, tu dai retta alla sua voce fanciulla". La cavalla volgea la scarna testa verso mia madre, che dicea più mesta: "O cavallina, cavallina storna, che portavi colui che non ritorna; lo so, lo so, che tu l'amavi forte! Con lui c'eri tu sola e la sua morte. O nata in selve tra l'ondate e il vento, tu tenesti nel cuore il tuo spavento; sentendo lasso nella bocca il morso, nel cuor veloce tu premesti il corso: adagio seguitasti la tua via, perché facesse in pace l'agonia... " La scarna lunga testa era daccanto al dolce viso di mia madre in pianto. "O cavallina, cavallina storna, che portavi colui che non ritorna; oh! Due parole egli dové pur dire! E tu capisci, ma non sai ridire. Tu con le briglie sciolte tra le zampe, con dentro gli occhi il fuoco delle vampe, con negli orecchi l'eco degli scoppi, seguitasti la via tra gli alti pioppi: lo riportavi tra il morir del sole, perché udissimo noi le sue parole". Stava attenta la lunga testa fiera. Mia madre l'abbracciò su la criniera "O cavallina, cavallina storna, portavi a casa sua chi non ritorna! A me, chi non ritornerà più mai! Tu fosti buona... Ma parlar non sai! Tu non sai, poverina; altri non osa. Oh! ma tu devi dirmi una cosa! Tu l'hai veduto l'uomo che l'uccise: esso t'è qui nelle pupille fise. Chi fu? Chi è? Ti voglio dire un nome. E tu fa cenno. Dio t'insegni, come". Ora, i cavalli non frangean la biada: dormian sognando il bianco della strada. La paglia non battean con l'unghie vuote: dormian sognando il rullo delle ruote. Mia madre alzò nel gran silenzio un dito: disse un nome... Sonò alto un nitrito.
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62
quanta is better understood outside of physics, on a grander scale - quantum is a quality suggestion that makes two (to, too) things auto-suggestive as pertaining in the matter - never mind - take the concept of quanta out of physics and you get a man readying himself for a controlled coma having his wisdom teeth removed, with the anaesθetician asking about the readers' digest, the patient replying quo vadis? / dokąd idziesz? then the great sleep plateau - 'where are you going?' puts any man off, whether boxer, or paediatrician - ****** lays dead floored for a minute, plays the dog game: play dead, tongue hanging ready for a guillotine. CHOP! and there goes the tail of a Doberman (jamnik / dachshund on stilts) and a ρoττł-                     y                     woo woo woo chim chimney                     cha cha cha ooh the rotting wail - rottweiler -                                                     -ειλερ; you never mention the u with the v due to the chisel ease, then again, you don't say double-o'h but say double u - too shay frowning at a shave; ****** i'll make your language my playground given all these post-colonial ***** aiming for a signature and credentials, this **** could pass the London brigade, but take it to York, it would be a massacre of a bureaucratic lapse of credentials... a viking invasion more-or-less; oh **** quantum physics, Charles Dickens and the Victorian Era - Jack the Ripper the antonym, both are the desired cages of energy requiring expression to make testimony that such an age existed, a particular congregate of expression, never universal, boxes and pockets, however much inside one is a question of your dietary requirement, quantum physics is better explained with history than hard science, and atoms, or the craze of subs, people need a bigger picture, not everyone own a ******* microscope or a telescope, teach quantum physics using history: Philippe Augustus of France mattered, at the Battle of Bouvines - Otto IV? not so much.
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Jun 26, 2016
Jun 26, 2016 at 7:45 PM UTC
Doberman and a Dachshund on stilts
quanta is better understood outside of physics, on a grander scale - quantum is a quality suggestion that makes two (to, too) things auto-suggestive as pertaining in the matter - never mind - take the concept of quanta out of physics and you get a man readying himself for a controlled coma having his wisdom teeth removed, with the anaesθetician asking about the readers' digest, the patient replying quo vadis? / dokąd idziesz? then the great sleep plateau - 'where are you going?' puts any man off, whether boxer, or paediatrician - ****** lays dead floored for a minute, plays the dog game: play dead, tongue hanging ready for a guillotine. CHOP! and there goes the tail of a Doberman (jamnik / dachshund on stilts) and a ρoττł-                     y                     woo woo woo chim chimney                     cha cha cha ooh the rotting wail - rottweiler -                                                     -ειλερ; you never mention the u with the v due to the chisel ease, then again, you don't say double-o'h but say double u - too shay frowning at a shave; ****** i'll make your language my playground given all these post-colonial ***** aiming for a signature and credentials, this **** could pass the London brigade, but take it to York, it would be a massacre of a bureaucratic lapse of credentials... a viking invasion more-or-less; oh **** quantum physics, Charles Dickens and the Victorian Era - Jack the Ripper the antonym, both are the desired cages of energy requiring expression to make testimony that such an age existed, a particular congregate of expression, never universal, boxes and pockets, however much inside one is a question of your dietary requirement, quantum physics is better explained with history than hard science, and atoms, or the craze of subs, people need a bigger picture, not everyone own a ******* microscope or a telescope, teach quantum physics using history: Philippe Augustus of France mattered, at the Battle of Bouvines - Otto IV? not so much.
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50
Someone who won't take you through what I did A person who has a better personality and a amazing heart, A man that will make it to where you don't have to look to anyone else for comfort That someone who will make you feel like your whole, not just a part. You deserve better than a man like me You deserve better than someone who doesn't betray your trust, You deserve better than what you had You deserve someone who will be there when day to night and dawn to dust. You know I'll always be here for you You know that I'm no good Your heart is all that i wanted Its to precious to be torn, shattered, and broke. You deserve all the love You deserve to laugh You deserve to smile You deserve of all things. You deserve to not have any fears You deserve better than Sha'Quille Otto You deserve...
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Apr 11, 2020
Apr 11, 2020 at 4:25 PM UTC
You Deserve....
Otto was ill-timed and    out of place in his black suit and    hand-hemmed pants bearing the sheen of long wear and his umbrella    reaching from floor to his elbow its wooden handle as crooked    as his spine "Where were you," he    admonished with his eyes and "Why didn't you," he    accused with his cane-handled umbrella and "Where is she," he    screamed from his wrinkled shirt and creased brow and worn wool pants and ill-timed arrival   one foot in the train and one foot knee-deep in misery.
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Jan 11, 2013
Jan 11, 2013 at 2:03 PM UTC
Otto was ill-timed
~ Otto Dix Plate 22 ~ Each night I meet myself in nightmares I am my own enemy fighting in No-man’s land I am material and real, yet I barely exist in my imagination. There is nothing whole and complete nothing has retained its shape or structure everything is splintered into surfaces in my imagination. There can be only shreds and shards only textures, hard lines and spaces where white light can dance free in my imagination. Each night I crawl through ruined houses along dark passages that close me in dropping to bottomless depths of myself in my imagination There are only axons and dendrites in my mind electric sparking, all atoms in a crystal night a grasping hand, a gaping eye disconnected in my imagination. Each night I try to find myself in nightmares I am my own enemy fighting in No-man’s land I am dark energy and matter, yet I barely exist in my imagination. © M.L.Emmett
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Nov 12, 2015
Nov 12, 2015 at 1:36 PM UTC
Night-Time Encounter with a Madman
Expert testimony has decreed yellow, Who are we to speak against those with seven tongues and antlers, You sleep as the muffin man creeps Camera in hands and remnants of sickness past upon his clothes Your eyes Otto Dix, your face like an anguished customer at Greggs. He, the muffin man, staggers in the night and surveys these barren lands. At what point will you release your patterned anguish? Expert testimony has decreed yellow, Watermelon and disorder for the masses in their lived fury hunters of the lowest rung, misery and handbags at the cumulative paces from Newcastle to Carlisle Flawed Romans and tasty Saxons, Expert testimony has decreed yellow, Revolt! bring down the manor! The muffin man in his element, deckchair reclined
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Sep 8, 2018
Sep 8, 2018 at 11:38 AM UTC
Hunters of the lowest rung
As far back as I can remember, i always wanted to be a gangster. -Quote by Ray liotta in good fellas movie.- “Nothing personal, it’s just business” ~ Otto Berman “Las Vegas turns women into men and men into idiots.” ~ Bugsy Siegel. “This life of ours, this is a wonderful life. If you can get through life like this and get away with it, hey, that’s great. But its very, very unpredictable. There’s so many ways you can ***** it up.” ~ Paul Castellano Thirty-two hundred dollars he gave me. Thirty-two hundred dollars for a lifetime. It wasn’t even enough to pay for the coffin.” (ray liotta as Henry hill) good fellas movie. “I hate to say this, but this place is getting to me. I think I’m getting the fear.” Dr. Gonzo( fear and loathing in Las Vegas) “If my answers frighten you then you should cease asking scary questions.” Jules. ( movie pulp fiction with John travolta and Samuel l. Jackson. Also starring bruce Willis.) “No matter how big a guy might be, Nicky would take him on. You beat Nicky with fists, he comes back with a bat. You beat him with a knife, he comes back with a gun. And you beat him with a gun, you better **** him, because he’ll keep comin’ back and back until one of you is dead.” Ace Rothstein ( movie Casino) Robert deniro, Joe pesci.
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Mar 12, 2016
Mar 12, 2016 at 12:01 AM UTC
delinquent iterations( Mob real quotes, and movie ones)
Chisto è 'o ritratto e chiste so' 'e capille: na ciocca 'e seta nera avvellutata. E cheste songo 'e llettere: cchiù 'e mille; lettere 'e 'na guagliona nnammurata. Ngiulina se chiammava sta figliola ch'è stata 'a primma nnammurata mia. Trent'anne sò passate... Mamma mia! 'A tengo nnanze a ll'uocchie, pare aiere: vocca 'e curallo, 'na faccella 'e cera, 'nu paro d'uocchie verde, 'e cciglie nere, senza russetto... semplice e sincera. Teneva sidece anne e io diciotto. Faceva 'a sartulella a 'o Chiatamone. Scenneva d' 'a fatica 'mpunto ll'otto, e mm'aspettava a me sotto 'o purtone. Senza parlà, subbeto sotto 'o vraccio nce pigliavemo e ghievemo a ffà ammore. Vicino 'a casa soia, 'ncoppa Brancaccio, parole doce e zucchero int' 'o core. Mettennoce appuiate 'nfaccia 'o muro, a musso a mmusso, tutt' e dduie abbracciate: dint' 'a penombra 'e n' angulillo oscuro, quanta suspire e vvase appassiunate! 'A tengo nnanze a ll'uocchie, pare aiere: vocca 'e curallo, na faccella 'e cera; nu paro d'uocchie verde, 'e cciglie nere, senza russetto... semplice e sincera.
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1.4k
Ngiulina
These empty rooms devoid of life, behind a bookcase in the hall. This was, for a time, our home while the Germans held the Dutch in thrall. My wife since dead from huger, my daughters in a common grave. I, Otto Frank, the sole survivor. Is there no one I can save? Annelise, my dearest daughter, Miep Gies gave me your book. The Germans cast it on the floor without a second look. Here in your words I find perhaps not all of you has died. Here in print your words may speak for all who suffered, all who cried. Its small comfort for an old man, broken, ready for the grave, but my girl might be a symbol for all those we could not save.
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Jul 24, 2014
Jul 24, 2014 at 1:38 PM UTC
The Diary
Down where the river flows This is where the old souls go Where water dances in lustrous blues & bright yellows Some died old & others were young fellows They play jazz & R&B tunes Drowning out their gray moods Each one shows up sad Then leave with a smile worth a grand But none are here for money, no They're here to forget the ones they let go Heartbreak hurts indeed But having a broken soul, nothing competes Down by the swaying willow tree Old souls become free Dressed in the hues of their stories Sneaky eyes have tried to read Careful! Don't be seen Humans shouldn't intervene For there is a soul from the past A boy who's last breath was a laugh Still young & naive He craved a new world to see The sight of a girl led him to the town And his laugh became an alarming sound All souls searched and seeked Braylen Otto Oakley Whizzing past familiar places And seeing grieving faces They shouted his name Wanting the pain to go away Rummaged through their past Hoping these feelings wouldn't last "What is it you look for?" BOO Where did he go? Nobody knew Till then they scream out Boo
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May 22, 2017
May 22, 2017 at 11:39 AM UTC
Down where the river flows
These empty rooms devoid of life, behind a bookcase in the hall. This was, for a time, our home while the Germans held the Dutch in thrall. My wife since dead from hunger, my daughters in a common grave. I, Otto Frank, the sole survivor. Is there no one I can save? Annelise, my dearest daughter, Miep Gies gave me your book. The Germans cast it on the floor without a second look. Here in your words I find that not all of you has died. Here your words may speak for all who suffered, all who cried. Its small comfort for an old man, broken, ready for the grave, but my girl might be a symbol for all those we could not save.
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Jun 12, 2012
Jun 12, 2012 at 9:02 PM UTC
The Annex
Painted the scene you wanted seen, hiding the scars of what had been. Scene ends, you return to the night, where demons haunt your lonely mind, You continue to try and find, the answers to make the wrongs right, but so many lies have been told, Your hopes are starting to dissolve, fearing there is no end in sight.
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Jul 20, 2015
Jul 20, 2015 at 9:27 AM UTC
Painted scene (nove otto)
Sandt Amaro and Karl Spooner on the old Brooklyn Dodgers. My 2 all-time favorite players of my favorite team the Yankees are an putfielder acquired in a transaction Vernon Webb and the Rookie of the Year for, I believe, 1957 an outfielder first baseman Norm Cisbern. My 2 favorite all-time Illinois basketball players were sixth men Ed Perez and Joseph Bertrand. My 2 favorite all-time Detroit Lions are Bobby Cayne and Pork Walker with Ces Bingaman a nice third. My favorite all-time Cleveland Browns are Otto Graham and Frank Gatsby. My all-time 2 favorite Chicago Bulls are Michael Jordan and Dave Corzine. Mordern-day-wise, I like Parig of the LA Dodgers, Steven Aren who last I saw was with the Washington Nationals, and in modern Illini football I loved Monty Wilson. He hit so hard and the sound of a prize recruit who never got in on a game. D'Angelo McGary and I liked the sound of the name. Duane Brantley who was a large for the time offensive lineman out of Chicago wo dropped out before he had a chance to play. This is just scratching the surface, I guess, since I'm not into the star system per se.
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Jun 30, 2017
Jun 30, 2017 at 11:16 AM UTC
My All Time Favorite Players on Some of My All Time Favorite Teams
The sky was awoken tonight Claps of thunder, flashes of light. Gentle rain turning to a pour. Animals run to find cover, young child screams for her mother. The ground can not take any more, puddles are starting to be formed. By daylight life will have been mourned, The force of the storm at my door.
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Feb 16, 2015
Feb 16, 2015 at 2:30 AM UTC
The storm (nove otto)
"Yes I can!" Bob wrote in response Otto had told him what he thought was the right answer Bob had understood but he soon wanted to ask the question again. the predicament: Bob could write but he couldn't speak. Otto could speak but couldn't write. Unfortunately, he forgot about the other's condition. He was frustrated he couldn't get his point across. Staring intently at the paper, Otto tried to motion the problem, until... Bob had an epiphany and started to write again. He had suddenly remembered that both of them could read; Following that, Otto excitedly began to explain that both of them could hear as well. Otto then whispered... precisely what Bob had written on the paper, "Can you read between the lines?" 11/6/15
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Nov 6, 2015
Nov 6, 2015 at 11:50 PM UTC
Twisted words, Tied tongue (a short story)
For high schools, this is a hot summer place. Outside the car, the community saves the largest animal championship in Cameroon? Comedy, Weaving, Festivals, Music, France, Australia, An Australian Theater, Otto Barroso. These are DC, PCPC and new digital printer is Yokompetrimi. William Lucas Lucas, Virginia and Brian Wallace Sanders, Muslims and their legal representatives, digital airport transportation plans and signatures, as well as DMS councils, digital screens and balloons. We are in Australia, fingerprints; fingerprints, music, video games, internet and content, and if you want to continue with Microsoft and Microsoft, Sports, Radio and Television publishers and Digital Technology, Politics,                                                       Police and Terrorism, Warren, Atlantic Express, Atlantic models, Islands What is a Hindu scholar? 600, Seattle, Windows Windows, Windows Windows, Windows Windows, Windows, Japan, Mexico, Tamil, Australia, Australia, Australia, Australia, John RP Mingle, stories, life, children and people. However, there are 600 seats in the country. what are you looking for? One state "Getting food in the jungle, Gibbert, Holidays, 600, Jungle, Bee Canvas." Black-colored information coming from Henry Marriott Antonio is the most important Viniolian material, Synthino, where trinity bismuth, bishop, salop, ela tube and future manifestations. Maya Matthy Fidini and Pip and Nig Boer and Palm & Seattle and QQ, and Mobile, and Windows and FNA Q Light for Stops, DC, PC and PDA: Working with Windows Mobile in the United States. There are three examples of rationalist stories in the novel: Violence and Fantasy Games, Cancer, Music, Movies, Newspapers, West, Blues, Green, Italy, South America, and Cuba. Friends, Workers, Work, Tom Antarctica, Crossover Crusen, Nor Crusen, Nor Crusen, Knor, Knor, Knor, Knor, Knor, Knight, Knorr, Knorr, Knor, Knor, Knorr, Knorr, Knorr, Brooklyn American Racing Wagon KA Language Rules, Local Advice, Family Safety, Springtime, Full Version Interview: Writer, grass and grass, three Americans, Thomas Christopher in the sunlight, light shades, instant blemishes, gold mock, Black blue Prayer. Other translations: Light, Green, Syrian, Amnesty International, Italy, Viviranan, Spiritual Cathedral, Permanent Italian Police Commissioner, Queen's **** School, Fictional Reality Titus Julie and The Golan Wings Golden Wings Tribal People's Dancing Nation in Dancerte Dance Day, Cloud Dance, Dance, Dance, Dancing, Hobbies, Spirit, Protection, Meaning, An Angel, An Angel Angel Vamp
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Feb 9, 2019
Feb 9, 2019 at 4:44 PM UTC
Angel Vamp, for Taylor Momsen
For high schools, this is a hot summer place. Outside the car, the community saves the largest animal championship in Cameroon? Comedy, Weaving, Festivals, Music, France, Australia, An Australian Theater, Otto Barroso. These are DC, PCPC and new digital printer is Yokompetrimi. William Lucas Lucas, Virginia and Brian Wallace Sanders, Muslims and their legal representatives, digital airport transportation plans and signatures, as well as DMS councils, digital screens and balloons. We are in Australia, fingerprints; fingerprints, music, video games, internet and content, and if you want to continue with Microsoft and Microsoft, Sports, Radio and Television publishers and Digital Technology, Politics,                                                       Police and Terrorism, Warren, Atlantic Express, Atlantic models, Islands What is a Hindu scholar? 600, Seattle, Windows Windows, Windows Windows, Windows Windows, Windows, Japan, Mexico, Tamil, Australia, Australia, Australia, Australia, John RP Mingle, stories, life, children and people. However, there are 600 seats in the country. what are you looking for? One state "Getting food in the jungle, Gibbert, Holidays, 600, Jungle, Bee Canvas." Black-colored information coming from Henry Marriott Antonio is the most important Viniolian material, Synthino, where trinity bismuth, bishop, salop, ela tube and future manifestations. Maya Matthy Fidini and Pip and Nig Boer and Palm & Seattle and QQ, and Mobile, and Windows and FNA Q Light for Stops, DC, PC and PDA: Working with Windows Mobile in the United States. There are three examples of rationalist stories in the novel: Violence and Fantasy Games, Cancer, Music, Movies, Newspapers, West, Blues, Green, Italy, South America, and Cuba. Friends, Workers, Work, Tom Antarctica, Crossover Crusen, Nor Crusen, Nor Crusen, Knor, Knor, Knor, Knor, Knor, Knight, Knorr, Knorr, Knor, Knor, Knorr, Knorr, Knorr, Brooklyn American Racing Wagon KA Language Rules, Local Advice, Family Safety, Springtime, Full Version Interview: Writer, grass and grass, three Americans, Thomas Christopher in the sunlight, light shades, instant blemishes, gold mock, Black blue Prayer. Other translations: Light, Green, Syrian, Amnesty International, Italy, Viviranan, Spiritual Cathedral, Permanent Italian Police Commissioner, Queen's **** School, Fictional Reality Titus Julie and The Golan Wings Golden Wings Tribal People's Dancing Nation in Dancerte Dance Day, Cloud Dance, Dance, Dance, Dancing, Hobbies, Spirit, Protection, Meaning, An Angel, An Angel Angel Vamp
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75
She made threats to slit my throat while waiting for the number 8 bus. I can't remember the color of her eyes, but the smell of her breath reminded me of cotton candy left out in the sun. Soft touch on rough surface, this skin is mine to protect. She made threats to forget me while waiting for the number 8 bus. I waited for her to touch my face, but nothing became of her hollow threats, they fell upon deaf ears. She slit my throat while waiting for the number 8 bus. I didn't wait for her to find my sweet spot. I stood behind myself and watched the color of her eyes turn black. Her skin became cold and my heart became numb. I'm nothing without her to make me feel alive. Her threats kept me even, made me aware. I will not survive without her, so I watch her eat cotton candy and make threats at the number 8 bus stop.
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Apr 6, 2015
Apr 6, 2015 at 6:18 AM UTC
otto ( little pieces left )
Lawrence Hall, HSG [email protected]       “Anglo-Saxon Students Would Not Like to Be Taught by a Jew” cited in                    -Stanley Kunitz Lyrics, Songs, and Albums | Genius To the Privileged Youth of Columbia University: As a child of situational poverty I am so grateful for all my Jewish teachers Including Moses Joshua Jeremiah Samuel David Solomon Jesus, Mary, and Joseph Saint Peter and the others in The Twelve Saint Paul Elie Weisel Chaim Potok Herman Wouk Leon Uris Franz Kafka Leonard Cohen Anne Frank Bernard Malamud Isaac Bashevis Singer Philip Roth Osip Mandelstam Saul Bellow Isaac Asimov Woody Allen Mel Brooks Edna Ferber Yip Harburg George Cukor Mel Brooks Oscar Hammerstein Alan Lerner Carl Reiner Rod Serling Franz Werfel Alan Arkin Claire Bloom Leonard Nimoy Chaim Topol Ed Asner Mel Brooks Peter Falk Werner Klemperer Jack Klugman Walter Matthau Tony Randall Mel Torme John Banner Kirk Douglas Lorne Greene Eli Wallach Sam Wanamaker Morey Amsterdam Leo Genn Otto Preminger Jack Benny Leslie Howard Ernst Lubitsch Cecil B. DeMille Mortimer Adler Allen Bloom Harold Bloom Irving Berlin Boris Pasternak Emil Ludwig Eric Wolfgang Korngold Elmer Bernstein Max Steiner George Gershwin Dimitri Tiomkin Samuel Fuller Alexander Korda Zoltan Korda Emeric Pressburger Erich von Stroheim Billy Wilder William Wyler Fred Zinnemann J. J. Abrams Peter Bogdanovich Michael Curtiz Stanley Donen Stanley Kramer Howard Caine Leon Askin Robert Clary Dinah Shore Stephen Sondheim Volodymyr Zelinsky Simon Schama Louise Gluck Siegfried Sassoon Isaac Rosenberg Joseph Brodsky Rob Morrow Vasily Grossman Stanley Kubrick Viktor Frankl And more, so many more, a cloud of witnesses Whose names are written in gold on a scroll in Heaven But somehow, in this world of beauty and truth And humanity’s aspirations to the good All you have found are bullhorns, trash fires, chants Clinched fists, obscenities, lies, and shrieking hate
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Apr 19, 2024
Apr 19, 2024 at 12:12 PM UTC
"Anglo-Saxon Students Would Not Like to Be Taught by a Jew"
Lawrence Hall, HSG [email protected]       “Anglo-Saxon Students Would Not Like to Be Taught by a Jew” cited in                    -Stanley Kunitz Lyrics, Songs, and Albums | Genius To the Privileged Youth of Columbia University: As a child of situational poverty I am so grateful for all my Jewish teachers Including Moses Joshua Jeremiah Samuel David Solomon Jesus, Mary, and Joseph Saint Peter and the others in The Twelve Saint Paul Elie Weisel Chaim Potok Herman Wouk Leon Uris Franz Kafka Leonard Cohen Anne Frank Bernard Malamud Isaac Bashevis Singer Philip Roth Osip Mandelstam Saul Bellow Isaac Asimov Woody Allen Mel Brooks Edna Ferber Yip Harburg George Cukor Mel Brooks Oscar Hammerstein Alan Lerner Carl Reiner Rod Serling Franz Werfel Alan Arkin Claire Bloom Leonard Nimoy Chaim Topol Ed Asner Mel Brooks Peter Falk Werner Klemperer Jack Klugman Walter Matthau Tony Randall Mel Torme John Banner Kirk Douglas Lorne Greene Eli Wallach Sam Wanamaker Morey Amsterdam Leo Genn Otto Preminger Jack Benny Leslie Howard Ernst Lubitsch Cecil B. DeMille Mortimer Adler Allen Bloom Harold Bloom Irving Berlin Boris Pasternak Emil Ludwig Eric Wolfgang Korngold Elmer Bernstein Max Steiner George Gershwin Dimitri Tiomkin Samuel Fuller Alexander Korda Zoltan Korda Emeric Pressburger Erich von Stroheim Billy Wilder William Wyler Fred Zinnemann J. J. Abrams Peter Bogdanovich Michael Curtiz Stanley Donen Stanley Kramer Howard Caine Leon Askin Robert Clary Dinah Shore Stephen Sondheim Volodymyr Zelinsky Simon Schama Louise Gluck Siegfried Sassoon Isaac Rosenberg Joseph Brodsky Rob Morrow Vasily Grossman Stanley Kubrick Viktor Frankl And more, so many more, a cloud of witnesses Whose names are written in gold on a scroll in Heaven But somehow, in this world of beauty and truth And humanity’s aspirations to the good All you have found are bullhorns, trash fires, chants Clinched fists, obscenities, lies, and shrieking hate
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Never — not ever! — do we not have NO MELON, NO LEMON At the Palindrome Emporium! WAS IT A CAR OR A CAT I SAW? WAS IT ELIOT’S TOILET I SAW? Only at the Palindrome Emporium! Prices are NEVER ODD, OR EVEN At the Palindrome Emporium! EVIL I DID DWELL, LEWD DID I LIVE At the Palindrome Emporium! YO, BANANA BOY Come save a bunch! And say hello to BOB, HANNAH, OTTO, and ANNA! Your friends at the Palindrome Emporium!
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Apr 19, 2025
Apr 19, 2025 at 10:59 AM UTC
YO, BANANA BOY
I'm near the door of this queer party scanning the stream of people coming in. For who? For you. Who else? Person after person after person. And then there you are, and my heart does some kind of flip even tho I swear to myself I'm over you. I mean I don't even think of you that often but there you are and I can't help yearning for something that'll never happen. Tell myself over and over and over that I'm with someone better for me, but she's white, and never goes out, and safe, and you - well, you're you. And we talk, tease each other, saying nothing important. And it's okay. And it's not. And later in the night when you tell me about what's happening at Otto after this event I hightail it there, of course I do, hoping, hoping, hoping... And even now, I sit in this coffee shop waiting to go to an event you said you'd be at and God I'd give anything to be different, to not want what I can't have. I'd give anything to be more than a moth to a flame to be satisfied with what I've got, but I can't help it. I want forest fire love. Give me forest fire love. I want to be burned alive.
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May 30, 2020
May 30, 2020 at 6:08 PM UTC
You think you're over someone but...
Hi. My name is Otto. Look! A squirrel. I should chase it, Too bad I'm inside a fence. I'm hungry. When's dinner? Yay! We're getting in the car! Are we going to the park? Wait! Don't leave me! Why're you closing the door? I want to come! Let me out! Noooo they're driving away I'm all alone. for 5 minutes YES! They're finally home! After what feels like 50 hours! It took you long enough.
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Feb 2, 2019
Feb 2, 2019 at 5:38 PM UTC
From a Dog's Point of View
so glottal, that arabic is,                        it would amuse me   to hear an arab recite these two words                 as someone chinese     attempting a trill on the R... let alone a frenchman having to stop harking that letter out, or the english applying the numbing, linguistic anaesthetic to it,                  i.e.                                  amuse me: gregory   brzęczyszczykiewicz herr otto, standartenjunker    (borrowed from the cult film:    how i started the second world war)...      or: stół z     powyłamywanymi nogami - gutton gutton clob kup-ah!                                   glutton q k, mmm'kab, mmm'qab...          ******* linguistic turkeys; help! help! he's choking! he's about to swollow his tongue! heimlich! quick! maneuver maneuver! run around the poor ******** in circles, chanting magic spells in cymru, while clapping like a seal in between rubbing your stomach and patting yourself on the head, for a kippah, akin to manna to descend from heaven!
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Jun 24, 2017
Jun 24, 2017 at 11:28 AM UTC
teasing an arab