"phillips" poems
Anom o ly
Non-named, never imagined much less realized
The left hand can't know what the right is doing,
it's a brain matter, grey area, may be a way to
imagine your unique. task, yours, not doable from here
We can do things as us that we never imagine alone.
Is there a need to negate, wait, think,
must one do any act?
Now, I see, emulating Socrates is thought easier than
emulating Jesus. Christ, you know that ain't easy, eh?
Death is the friend of being. Things change from time to time
but, you know knowledge grows in two directions,
the dark part is not evil.
evil is as evil does. The roots that ever live in the earth,
those roots are required, requirements.
Left brain uses the right hand. Don't tell the left-hand
that nearly all it's skill in serving
and being used right,
is used up by the other side.
Right or wrong, is not a chiral question, nor is good or bad. ******** Phillips's head screws with a butter knife is wrong.
It can be done right, but not if you turn it the wrong way.
Drawing on the right side of my brain has always symbolized a crossroads experience, in my mind.
I mean I draw, realistically, with my right hand, left brain.
Maybe, brains are no easier to analyze than time in an immaterial medium of messaging.
I am certain life wins.
Meaning everything you think life means.
Do you think evil is required as an activity for life to actively be?
I doubt that.
Death fixes everything. Fret not. Wait.
First make room, what was the Bronte word? Penetrium, no, cut n paste
[A]t once it struck me what quality went to form a Man of Achievement, especially in Literature, and which Shakespeare possessed so enormously - I mean Negative Capability, that is, when a man is capable of being in uncertainties, mysteries, doubts, without any irritable reaching after fact and reason - Coleridge, for instance, would let go by a fine isolated verisimilitude caught from the Penetralium of mystery, from being incapable of remaining content with half-knowledge.
From <https://www.etymonline.com/columns/post/cloud-of-uknowing>
Happiness demands an agreement
Joy is in process, I agree, I am happy, haps happen and I notice
Note: Bronte was one to tweak fine puns with the word Penetralia: 1. The innermost parts of a building, especially the sanctuary of a temple. 2. The most private or secret parts; recesses: the penetralia of the soul. See Chapter one, Wuthering Heights.
----- From
bronteblog.blogspot.com/2006/03/emilys-penetralium_03.html
Mar 2, 2018
Mar 2, 2018 at 12:12 AM UTC
Woof.....woof.....woof...woof....woof....wooof
Some Red setters dogs are eating Jewish people
in England
But why, do call them off, they are british people,
The are hard working, Industrious, Entrepreneurs,
Professors, Doctors, Lawyers, Bankers, Entertainers
Scientists, Writers, eminent Surgeons, Artists, these
are nice Britons....stop the dogs, stop the dogs.....
Woof....woof....woof.....woof.....woof...woof woof
Some Red Setters dogs are eating and biting some
Labour MPs all over the country
But why, do call off the dogs, No! we have a list and this list, highlighted the behaviour of a number of Left MPs, including Jess Phillips for telling Corbyn’s ally Diane Abbott to **** off”, John Woodcock for dismissing the party leader as a ******* disaster” and Tristram Hunt for describing Labour as “in the ****
and all the other hard working Moderate MPs who dared protest at Anti-Semitic stance or supported the Jews .
Woof.....woof....woof....woof.....woof.....woof...woof
Some Red Setters dogs are devouring some minor
Royal from Africa
But why, do call off the dogs. No that ****** has a big **** he's
Charismatic, intelligent, wholesome, has good work ethics, polite,
wise, charming, generous, witty and a ****** good lover and to top it all he's Royal. Now that's ******* GREEDY, how much can a
******* man have. NO! he's a goner. He is too perfect, he must be hounded and persecuted to death.
Woof....woof....woof.....woof.....woof.....woof.......woof
Grrr.....woof.....Grrrrr....woof...wooof...Grrrr....wooof
Congratulations People, we have got rid of them all
we now have real democracy, we have a real society now
Get in the dogs ... And all you useless ******* people shut up!
And report to the Labor Camps 7:30a.m. tomorrow
You're Working Class and now you ****** have to work!
Sep 12, 2018
Sep 12, 2018 at 6:45 PM UTC
Cole Phillips
A warm jungle night.
A jaguar stalking its prey with fright.
The sound of the light rain and wind.
The lonely ant eater has no idea what is lurking in the dark.
A perfect target for such beast.
The night grows long and the jaguar finds it's place to strike.
The jaguar preparing for a long battle.
When in reality, no battle is needed at all.
The jaguar kills its prey and feasts
Cole Phillips
Apr 2, 2014
Apr 2, 2014 at 9:14 AM UTC
If I were a cup of black coffee you take me just the way I am.
If this were a thanksgiving dinner you'd be the turkey and I'd be the ham.
I'm the water and you're the sea
I'm the sailor and what I really mean is; you complete me.
If this were a battery you'd be the positives and I'd be the negatives.
If I were a holiday you'd be the festive's.
If this were space you'd be the stars that form my galaxy.
If I were a driver in New York, you'd be my taxi.
If I a flower and you the bee, then it's clear to see that what I really mean is; you complete me.
One ways, u-turns, dead ends and yields, green lights, left lane merge and a squashed bug on my windshields.
If I were a Bic ballpoint pen then you would write out every sin.
If this were it, it would be the greatest love there has ever been.
Road signs and paper, fantasies and nature cannot help to say in such a little way that all I try to convey that what I really mean is; you complete me.
If I were a song you'd memorize my lyrics
If this were February 1990 it would be Hold On by Wilson Phillips
If I were a comic book, you'd be my nerd.
If you were a photographer I'd be your bird.
If I a cold night and you the book by a fire, then I'd be the Hobbit and you'd be my Shire.
If I a cup and you the tea then all there is left to say is...
Feb 10, 2015
Feb 10, 2015 at 12:00 PM UTC
Should I hang with my friend who I haven't seen in a year or go meet this tinder girl?
Someone New - Hozier
I just can't put my finger on it.
something about her is goregous.
Baby Got Back - Jonathon Coulton
You're right. It's totally her ***
Ugly Faces - Watsky
Shh, spotify, be nice. It's not her fault.
Do Better - Say Anything
Okay okay, you're right. I'll bring her home.
All Time Low - Jon Bellion
Oh c'mon, She's not that bad...
Proove Me Wrong - Dub FX
Well like... her personality is pretty cute.
Some Girls Are Crazy - Echo Movement
I can't beleive I just had *** in my backseat.
Glad You Came - The Wanted
Yikes. All the girls dropped from this party. it's just gonna be me and my three dude friends.
*To Many ***** On The Dancefloor - Flight Of The Concords*
I completely agree. Should i go or just come up with a ****** excuse to leave?
*You Don't Have To Be A ********** - Flight Of The Concords*
You're right i'll leave. What should i tell them?
Working - I Fight Dragons
No i already told them i got the day off. That wouldn't work.
My Buddy's Back - Big D and The Kids Table
Oh perfect!
Sleepyhead - Passion Pit
Yeah I should go to bed.
Let me finish this poem first.
Go To Bed - Ookla The Mok
I'm stuck on this line.
What's a good word to describe Port Veritas? Like... one word?
Home - Phillip Phillips.
That's adorable... you're so right.
See You Again - Wiz Kahlifa
**** you spotify that was super uncalled for. Now i'm bummed out.
Get Over It - Ok Go
Dude. That's like super insensitive
Ungrateful - Streetlight Manifesto
No i'm not ungrateful. I love you, you just don't need to make me cry when i'm down in the dumps like that.
Lean Into The Fall - Mona
I guess you're right. Fine. Thank you.
All The Stars In Texas - Ludo
That's the nicest thing that anyones ever said to me. I like when you do that.
Like or Like Like - Miniature Tigers
Uhh, i guess like like. You're pretty much my favorite app.
R U Mine? - Arctic Monleys.
I think maybe you're moving a little fast spotify... i don't think I'm ready for that kind of commitment.
I Wanna Be Yours - Arctic Monkeys
This is getting weird. I'm going to bed.
I Will Follow You Into The Dark - Death Cab For Cutie
Okay no, seriously i'm turning you off.
Don't Unplug Me - All Caps.
Mar 6, 2016
Mar 6, 2016 at 12:55 AM UTC
To Bailey
What up cousin? It’s been a while since we’ve spoken..
I’ve been tryin to keep my mind focused and stayin open..
tryin to figure out how to rebuild my heart again now that it’s broken..
hopin and prayin to some god that it’s all a dream an I’ll be awoken..
But I’m not an ignorant or irrational man, so it’s back to life as I know it..
now I sit here with pen in hand, talking to another lost loved one as a poet..
god **** every time it seems to get a little harder and harder to be stoic..
I do it for you, but my choice would have been to find a rock and hide far below it..
But I’ve held you down, an showed the world a face with a sculpted smile..
Meanwhile inside I strong armed my stomach to prevent the expulsion of bile..
mind racing, god ****** Just 29 years is nowhere near a long enough while!!
and to think, you barely even got to spend 3 of those with your child..
It makes me want to shout to the stars and curse our own existence..
I guess I learned I can’t box god due to something about my arms and the distance..
so I’ve given up being angry about it and stopped my resistance..
but the one thing it’s affected more than any other is my persistence..
From time to time I’m gonna ask someone “has anyone told you they loved you today?”
and if they say no, I’ll be the first person to show them a sincere display…
YOU taught me that bailey, and no matter what, I’ll never let it slip away…
I can’t thank you enough for your life, I wouldn’t even know how to repay!
It’s those small perfect lessons we can all take from your life…
I couldn’t even begin to tell them all in the course of one night…
you were an amazing person to anyone who met you, a true delight..
people called you a shiner, a catalyst, a loving father, and a white knight…
everyone had a story of how you had given them inspiration..
I can’t thank you enough on behalf of the world for your donations!
I’m glad I could finally write this letter to show my appreciation..
the words had been escaping me with some trepidation..
I love you Bailey, always have and always will!!
I can’t believe you’re gone but I carry on still…
I soldier up when I need to then settle down to chill…
I’ll see you when I see you, you know the drill…
Rest In Peace: Bailey Paul McKeon-Phillips
Aug 7, 2010
Aug 7, 2010 at 2:57 PM UTC
-Houston Chronicle, 10.1.2018
A robot wandered the mean streets alone
While lighting up and smoking his last transistor
Remembering an IBM long gone
“Buy me a WD-40, mister?”
A ****** thermostat took him to Radio Shack
And talked about some Texas Instruments she knew
A Compaq sent them to a room out back -
“Do ya wanna undo my phillips *****
He paid the thermostat some gigabytes
And then…
He was mugged by a relay who put out his lights
Oct 2, 2018
Oct 2, 2018 at 7:23 AM UTC
Deaths Of 2013
My third year doing this.
Paul Walker, Texas ranger,
driving fast leads to danger.
Matt Osbourne was Doink The Clown,
Paul Bearer always wore a frown.
Dennis Farina and James Gandolfini,
always played a mobster meany.
Peter O'Toole, famous actor,
Prime Minister, Margaret Thatcher.
President Nelson Mandela,
Dennis Burkley, was a famous fat actor fella.
Lou Reed, is now on the wild side,
took all the colored girls for a ride.
Conrad Bain and Bonnie Franklin,
tv actors who had white skin.
Paul Blair and Stan The Man,
playing baseball, when they can.
Marcia Wallace and Lisa Robin Kelly,
both had ***** that bounced like jelly.
Tom Clancy wrote famous books,
not much on having good looks.
Cory Montieth and Patti Page,
one died young, other of old age.
Jean Stapleton, was Edith Bunker,
Archie always put her in the dumper.
Pat Summerall and Deacon Jones,
played football and broke some bones.
Dr. Joyce Brothers and Pauline Phillips,
they both gave good and bad tips.
Ray Manzarek, from The Doors,
Jeff Hanneman knew all Slayers chords.
Chrissy Amphlett, liked to touch herself,
Caleb Moore's trophies are on his shelf.
Mindy McCready and George Jones,
both hit those country tones.
Chris Kelly from Kris Kross,
Ed Koch is a New York loss.
David Frost and Roger Ebert,
always had words to insert.
Anneitte Funicello from Mickey Mouse Club,
Eydie Gorme almost got a snub.
Jonathan Winters, was very funny,
to come from Mork's egg, made him money.
If you don't know who these people are,
look them up, internet not very far.
For the ones that I missed,
please don't get to ******
Dec 31, 2013
Dec 31, 2013 at 12:46 AM UTC
If only they could understand were I've been and how far I've come, this smile on my face is a Polarod Picture full of fun.
With love and cuddles there’s always a shoulder for you to cry on, it’s amazing because The Last Piece to my puzzle has been found.
I love my x-box the adventure in this game has just begun, got the keys to the Bat Mobile Gotham City here I come.
See the Joker thinks his funny until Robin comes along, my heart is like a diamond it sparkles all day long.
My smile is a memory that catchers you when you fall, I'm strong and I'm a leader and I’ll always be there when you need me.
My I-pad has an app that’s so relaxing when I need it, I'm **** and I'm Naughty I love teasing as you please me.
Hears the key to my heart love it as you become part of my destiny.
This poem I wrote for my friend “K J Phillips”
Jidos Reality 1.11.12
Sep 4, 2015
Sep 4, 2015 at 2:24 PM UTC
Wi yer eyes stingin n wet wi tears
N muk bungin up tha nose n ears
N a white rimmed ed where thi's ad thi hat
Up tha floats on't lift like a drownded rat
After twelve hours tha's pretty dun in
Whilst t'other folks as been kippin n dreamin
Tha's bin diggin n drillin like summart daft
Now up tha floats on't hydraulic raft
The cold morn air meks tha lungs urt
Cause tha's bin breathin muk n dirt
Fer nigh on forty years or more
That most folks wudn't ave on't floor
N as tha washes all't muk away
Tha knows thas sum that'll allus stay
N whilst outside tha luks nice n clean
Tha's stuff inside thi th't'll never be seen
Until o course tha's gon n died
N them docter fellers tek a look inside
N in amazement they'll stand n stare
At all that muk th't shudn't be there
N wen tha's ded it'll be nowt new
Not too a bloke what's lived like you
Fer now tha's on'y six feet under
Wen undreds is what thas bin used to
N't Crowner'll say thi ad a natural death
Not like them th't had their last breath
At sixteen, seventeen, twenty or more
When sum big explosions brought ceiling t floor
But a doubt if tha'll think it wer thi turn
As tha lays there nattering t worm
Crawlin in n out o yer ears
Not much t show fer sixtyodd years
Still what else cud you ave dun, that's it
But follow yer old man down pit
A mean even his dad was a facer tha knows
Kem out at thirty wi' ands like claws
Ah well it's time fer sum grub
Then half-a-dozen pints't pub
Wi an hour or two o noonday sun
Then back t wife fer an hour o fun
N be six next morning I'll be feelin well
As I teks yon raft t bowels of 'ell
Thirty shillin a week be summer the reckonin
Ah but then they can't see yon worm beckonin
Remember this is a 'Performance Poem'
and the style of writing acts as a
speech prompt. The accent is loosely
Yorkshire. A 'Crowner 'is an old word
for a Coroner.
I hope you enjoy it.
© David Irwin Phillips 2008
Mar 31, 2010
Mar 31, 2010 at 2:03 AM UTC
by Shannon Phillips
Hi!
I'm an undiscovered poet,
No one seems to care to know it,
I wrote 160 and more to come,
They are my feelings and mind talk on paper.
People see them as nothing but paper,
But the wise, smart, and beautiful enter them
As another world made by pen from hand.
A new discovery is me,
yet so undiscovered, see,
come, come,
cross the deep, dark ocean,
swim my sweet sea,
fly my fine few skies,
get swooped up soon and soothed in my world,
be taken by my air,
WIND!!
In my world you are a piece of clean paper,
You can be anything you want to be,
Float finely like a feather,
Stay free in any kind of weather,
But still people are afraid to see through concrete,
Afraid and forbidden to see,
So, still undiscovered iz me.
Jan 28, 2012
Jan 28, 2012 at 7:13 PM UTC
She sat alone
At lunch everyday
No one ever noticed
The tears on her face
She was lost
She hoped someday
Someone would find her
And pull her back into reality
Out of her world of darkness
And despair
Out of the swirling sadness
Called her life
She could find no refuge
In books or toys
She didn't play sports
Or join clubs
She stayed home alone everyday
Doing homework
And sitting by herself
Until one day
She went up to the attic
And in the corner
Found a flute
Silver and shining,
She picked it up
Its weight heavy
In her frail arms
She lifted it to her lips
And started to play
The sounds drowned out
The sorrows
Of the week behind her
This instrument,
Silver and shining
Might just be her refuge
But not by choice
So perhaps,
Her savior
-Madi.S
May 2, 2014
May 2, 2014 at 5:02 PM UTC
Black Israelite haters, excused,
led to schoolboys reviled and accused
of white racism, hate.
The reaction was great--
but the whiteboys were merely amused.
Progressives were driven berserk
by a teenager's innocent smirk.
The old shaman tried shaming:
and drumming and blaming,
but none of those strategies work!
Mr. Phillips, the activist drummer
gave Regressives their Indian Summer--
till a teenager's smirk
drove the demons berserk
and made dumbed-down regressives much dumber.
If a smile is a cultural crime
then the criminals need to do time.
Every whiteboy must go
in this cracka-ass show
and I'm guilty for reason of rhyme.
Jan 24, 2019
Jan 24, 2019 at 7:33 PM UTC
I've always waited for this moment,
An all-pervasive coming-to-be
It has permeated my existence since infancy,
My illusory life that began when I died
When I fell from my heaven
Into the ego traps of Owen Phillips
The pathetic human shell I've come to inhabit
He is too weak to contain me, to enact my desires
He must be destroyed,
That I may return and be a self-actualizing soul
In the infinite blissful embrace of every imperfect beauty
I ever longed for in my lowly, cowardly human skull
Feb 7, 2013
Feb 7, 2013 at 9:38 AM UTC
I carry around a Phillips head
To tighten up any loose screws
An empty bag I keep in my hand
To collect all the marbles I lose
The elevator that I am riding in
Doesn't stop at all the floors
Happy with insanity
Who out there could ask for more
The toys that are in my attic
When they come out to play
Take my hand as we skip through Bizarro land
On any given day
Card games are entertaining
But they are always over so fast
When what I'm holding in my hand
Is not quite a full deck
Being four quarters short of a dollar
I will never strike it rich
Nor live in the nicest of places
Having a load that's short a few bricks
So if you come a knocking
And find nobody at home
I'm out on the streets of crazy
But believe me I'm never alone
Jul 10, 2013
Jul 10, 2013 at 7:43 AM UTC
Your grandad
was a literal ******
and your gran stole flowers
from graves.
Your mother's red lipstick
was drawn near her nose,
and she didn't know how
to behave.
Your family ate dinner
whilst watching TV,
and your mother would
squawk like a hen,
when her son would switch
over from the results of Big
Brother to catch up with
the News at Ten.
'Gay and mad eh?
Here's a TV tray,
and I'll smack you if I see a tear.'
I love that your mother
helped me discover
Reality TV and beer.
Sep 7, 2013
Sep 7, 2013 at 3:10 PM UTC
I still haven’t bought gloves,
though I had steel-toe boots for awhile.
Callouses are waiting for you to lay hands bare
to everything you own. You can go years without feeling
the bottom of your own table.
I moved Dad into his new house.
This brings the total to 18 moves in 10
years. Mostly in 20 hour windows.
You were around
for 7 or 8 of them
I read once that most of dust is actually stardust
from micro-meteorites. It’s not true.
It is actually dead pieces of you.
I’ve inhaled more of us than anyone.
Item highlights:
250 lb. End table with hidden safe inside
Combination: unknown
Garbage bag with mom’s clothes
and one Phillips-head screwdiver
Four landline phones tangled
with their cords in a laundry hamper
Seven phonebooks in a neat cardboard box
Madalyn: Dad still has the small wooden sign you made him
the one that says “Dad’s Workshop” in blue glitter-paint.
Steve: Dad has recently bought a toaster oven, and he loves it
as much as you love yours. He gave me the same speech
about the difference in the taste of hot-dogs.
You are both still in the pictures at his house. It startles
me when your faces appear on the screensaver.
Feb 22, 2011
Feb 22, 2011 at 3:01 PM UTC
You're not alone, birds of a feather flock together
Many torn umbrellas bearing the gloomy weather
Many beings are sliding along Phillips curve
Won't be counted unless you strain every nerve
Keeping rowing upstream, come rain or shine
Comfort is like whirlpool, take a hard line
If not working then turn over a new leaf
Atop the cliff, shout aloud and devour relief
Empty pockets bake you in holocaustic oven
Smiles and cries, that's how life is woven
They will mock you but believe that you can
Look before you leap or you're the marked man
Visit every bloom like these young moths
In witching hour, save your naive thoughts
Don't wait for another day, though week has seven
Build your castles here only, there's no heaven
Aug 15, 2021
Aug 15, 2021 at 2:57 AM UTC
She was a girl
no one ever chose
for teams or clubs
dances or dates
Upon a rock solid bench she weeps
hair cascading down her back
covering her face
and hiding her pain
A very adventurous girl she was
full of hope and joy
but her true feelings not shown
covered by the smile plastered on her face
She played the drums
to the beat of her heart
from the harp she would lean upon
each song, each string, each note, simply tore her apart
She was a girl
no one ever chose
for teams or clubs
dances or dates.
Apr 7, 2014
Apr 7, 2014 at 5:20 PM UTC
It's not our faults we were happy
Maniacally, brilliantly happy,
Midnights in hot water and cold air, breathing into eachother's necks,
"But what will happen when summer ends?"
We scrabbled at each passing moment with stubby fingernails
Teary eyes on champagne nights
We always knew we were no more than fleeting chaos,
Beautiful ******* chaos,
We may have fit together in all the wrong ways but we were such a pretty sight.
I could not crack open your weary mind,
I could not crawl inside with a wrench and Phillips screwdriver and right all the wrongs,
But I could whip your brain cells into a frenzy.
I was everything that you did not need,
But we were everything that we wanted to be.
We tumbled our way down the domino track to the very last peice,
And when our inevitable tragedy came like a cyclone, we threw up our hands in surrender on the last loop of that rollercoaster.
And love has many meanings,
So don't doubt that I meant what I said, love.
Jul 21, 2013
Jul 21, 2013 at 10:02 AM UTC
She was a girl
No one ever chose
For teams or clubs
Dances or dates
She was a girl
No one ever noticed
Sitting in the corner of the room
Always alone
She was a girl
Left outside in the freezing rain
For the longest of times
With no one to hug or hold
She was a girl
That held everything in and let nothing out
It was only her eyes that revealed the story of her pain
Being left out like garbage everyday
She was a girl
Who never spoke
Yet didn’t need words to be heard
One day you will finally notice
-MMM
Apr 24, 2014
Apr 24, 2014 at 9:28 PM UTC
as deeply as this envious state crawls into my bloodstream
I could never desire the admiration you receive
because you are cherished only for your beauty
no person commends the light you shine oh so ever brightly
you're not appreciated for your aptitude
your dreams are disregarded among the souls of the ungracious
I pity you as you dwell in your permanence in the sky
forsaken is your very existance
you are doomed to that title for an eternity
so while you are worshipped by millions
it is a shallow approbation
and I would rather be loved by no one
Jul 8, 2010
Jul 8, 2010 at 10:32 PM UTC
Shakespeare, gazing into a waning sky,
said that her eyes were nothing like the sun.
Collins, picking fruit from trees, said that she
is not the purple wind in the orchard.
To follow this long trend of un-blazoned
poetry, I want to share with the world
that you are not the Charlie Parker jazz
jumping from the mouth of a black Phillips
radio, nor are you the paper that I
am writing this first draft on, nor
the morning coordinate geometry
that puzzled me today (or maybe you
are). Even more so, you are not the moon-
light staining trees, the stack of 18th
century British literature in the study,
your grandmother’s painting in the dining
room. Nonetheless, you are you: masterful,
opinionated, understanding; a
beloved whose beauty is better left
unmentioned in some new age poetry.
Oct 11, 2016
Oct 11, 2016 at 7:21 AM UTC
India painted breast cancer, especially tooth, female, nature beetles and beehives with beehives. Maya Maori Production Source: Unique Police Revolution, Wisdom Propaganda, Female Girls, Snow and Body. In terms of health, Evan changes the market for green maize and gravel, body, sound, leather and lamps in the marketplace. Listen to the person's indignation, his refusal to call his family, and the drama that burns in the Middle East. Children themselves return to pregnant women, breast cancer, pregnancies, especially girls, in the usual rent and flower returns. Maya Maori Production Source: Unique Police Revolution, Wisdom Propaganda Propaganda, Female Girls, Snow and Body. In terms of health, Evan changes the market for green maize and gravel, body, sound, leather and lamps in the marketplace. This is known as the infinite power of Satan, known as the infallible building phase. Even though it is naughty, I'm coming back with a warning. The company was taken in heart. The Children's Science Letter In the 19th century, a clean baby brought fresh green grass and improved their energy. Volcanic eruption begins with a volcanic leaf in the volcanic eruption. The cooled flavors, mills, biscuits, sunflowers, sunlight, Milton's Power, Fireworks, El Universal, Metropolitan Police Station. Clean, are they back? First dress and weapons. Basic gasoline is not permitted. The woman was thrown out. The device includes services and music. Simple, public and geographical answers. Then we go to the town gate and the police station is 1. The main pollutant gas does not. He is a new heir by General Henry and Juan El Batista, a daughter and civil civilian gypsy who has been interviewed for several years. Activities by Philip Ainlin, football, wheat, bran, and web-based resources. 2, 26, Harold, my brother Phillips, and I had David's report. 2 Southern Nigeria's Southern Doctrine Institute was confused. Most "write to Google" crimes were transmitted by the police station. Before the library bar. Philippe goes to Abenne and provides clean Black rivers, leaflets and seeds, which shows the reader and love movement. This is very timely. On the fifth day, modern clipper was called Herod's father. 2, 26 Philip and his brother Harald Aliel were born again in the Netherlands in Phoenix in the Netherlands and Phillips II. There are two trumpets on the "Google" Crime Camp at the police station. But the Fly Museum has doubled before, but it will not be used in the first conflict.
Nov 9, 2018
Nov 9, 2018 at 3:28 AM UTC