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"portable" poems
At the Zoo Patriots and faux exhibit and binge on synonyms of liberty printed on beer and underwear Advertising what should be unspoken and inspired to pervert and romanticize Preludes to the parades and finale above us all Weeks of saturated irony Cuckoo bird irony and BBQ As they reform Phoenix, rebirth of distractions and thievery Predators in ally ways pursing America's diamonds and legs Then gunpowder Gunpowder of colors and cuckoos Layers of streets in gunpowder Towns built of gunpowder Sky is gunpowder We are born addicted to led and gunpowder Gunpowder ****** in the air Success, display and diversion and more gunpowder to ingest. The Grand Finale The Volta of the evening The hammer of the judge *** appeal of death and nature flexing it's muscles-   show us some skin! Covering your ears Eyes fastened- Ready to burrow back to mothers womb Binged and free Chinese celebration hijacked Red, White and Blue And a moment of silence   Orchestrated onomatopoeia in heaven Chorus of arousal on Earth Band marching war machines in hell The showdown of 241 years! This freedom we are all grateful to only talk about Only free to battle shackling intoxication Men and women tugging extra weighted offspring Sulking for indoors and portable addiction   Chanting three letter obedience God being counted by his blessings Fear and Statism in every breathe for salvation from our stick swatted enemies Checkpoints that serve and protect asking for a toll; liberty synonyms. Arresting the too free At the Zoo, The cuckoos regaining reality. The phoenix red eye and held under oath To the next day where we are back To hate each others freedom, again.
0
Jul 10, 2017
Jul 10, 2017 at 1:31 AM UTC
4
At the Zoo Patriots and faux exhibit and binge on synonyms of liberty printed on beer and underwear Advertising what should be unspoken and inspired to pervert and romanticize Preludes to the parades and finale above us all Weeks of saturated irony Cuckoo bird irony and BBQ As they reform Phoenix, rebirth of distractions and thievery Predators in ally ways pursing America's diamonds and legs Then gunpowder Gunpowder of colors and cuckoos Layers of streets in gunpowder Towns built of gunpowder Sky is gunpowder We are born addicted to led and gunpowder Gunpowder ****** in the air Success, display and diversion and more gunpowder to ingest. The Grand Finale The Volta of the evening The hammer of the judge *** appeal of death and nature flexing it's muscles-   show us some skin! Covering your ears Eyes fastened- Ready to burrow back to mothers womb Binged and free Chinese celebration hijacked Red, White and Blue And a moment of silence   Orchestrated onomatopoeia in heaven Chorus of arousal on Earth Band marching war machines in hell The showdown of 241 years! This freedom we are all grateful to only talk about Only free to battle shackling intoxication Men and women tugging extra weighted offspring Sulking for indoors and portable addiction   Chanting three letter obedience God being counted by his blessings Fear and Statism in every breathe for salvation from our stick swatted enemies Checkpoints that serve and protect asking for a toll; liberty synonyms. Arresting the too free At the Zoo, The cuckoos regaining reality. The phoenix red eye and held under oath To the next day where we are back To hate each others freedom, again.
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47
small cheap rooms where you walk down the hall to the bathroom can seem romantic to a young writer. even the rejection slips are amusing because you are sure that you are one of the best. but while sitting there looking across the room at the portable typer waiting for you on the table you are really in a sense insane as you wait for one more night to arrive to sit and type Immortal Words--but now you just sit and think about it on your first afternoon in a strange city. looking over at the door you almost expect a beautiful woman to walk in. being young helps get you through many senseless and terrible days. being old does too.
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14.2k
it's all right
I want to love you like the 90´s, back when making a playlist meant dubbing you a mixtape I want love you like cassette, the kind of love that even when it gets tangled we just have to stick a pencil into the spool and reel it back to normal I want to love you like portable Sony CD players, the kind of love that even when it gets scratched we just have to blow wipe it on our sleeves because, love, love just needs a little touch to make it move
0
Apr 12, 2018
Apr 12, 2018 at 2:47 PM UTC
̈90 ́s Love ̈ by Asia Samson
They had the plastic coffins ready Before the panic hit, Ebola was a planned Population reduction project A good distraction from Economic collapse Governments always divert your attention At critical moments in history The elite wish to keep their control Ebola had no trouble infecting Medical professionals, but they assured us It’s not airborne, it’s only an exchange Of fluids, so cover up your eyes Ebola carries with it the heat of Africa Able to make your blood boil form the inside A post-colonial bioweapon specifically designed To make you fear, to make you a follower I think my stomach can feel it spreading Around the world, in months, years You cannot contain something like this By simple quarantine? Even the medical staff Don’t want any part in it, so cover your eyes The black plague drips sinister News In our times, the mainstream media plans Consumes with its grip, like Ebola It has the power to consume, a portable Killing-machine, enough to linger about doom? Ebola is an outbreak, taken more seriously The closer it hits to home, what is home On a planet of billions of travelling people?
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Oct 12, 2014
Oct 12, 2014 at 2:02 PM UTC
Ebola as a Black Plague
The Washing machine that fits comfortably in a backpack It means being prepared and not in lack Your clothes will be clean like a tack The mission is too carefully pack Take the portable miniature washing machine wherever you go Your ***** clothes you won’t have to show The true clean puts you in the know Turn hiking dirt into a kirk The refreshing clean with the assistance of detergent Mr. Clean ***** cleans will become lean Tough on stains and dirt with after being clean Hike up any trail and mountain being confidence Refreshed clothes as your testimony in instance Pack that portable washing machine and let it turn your hiking experience into endurance Convenience in the wilderness Outdoor clean in the happiness The stains that will come out Add another detergent of Shout Now that’s what I am talking about.
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Aug 18, 2014
Aug 18, 2014 at 5:11 AM UTC
PORTABLE BACKPACK WASHING MACHINE
Uncle and I never so connected a coming of age was on it's way & the cancer came like the friendly neighborhood garden snake Maybe you had gone away for the same reasons -That some things aren't worth dying over & a portable love that meant questions never ended & life never had to actually make sense it just had to go on. Uncle, I wish you were here
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Sep 30, 2011
Sep 30, 2011 at 9:19 PM UTC
Uncle
Albert Camus Kept an Emu Tied to a potted, Portable wisteria To keep him company Whilst he kept goal For the University of Algeria. As Albert was fishing The ball out From the back of the net The Emu mused On the conversations they'd had About The Oprah Winfrey Show, The significance of suffragettes, Adam Smith's Wealth Of Nations And the ****** orientation Of Sir Galahad. Whilst discussing the plots of The Plague and The Outsider Warm feelings would suddenly Well up inside her. Why should such intellect Elicit so much love And even more pain? My thoughts for this man Aren't getting any vaguer. Then Utrecht University Scored again. There are no happy endings With Albert Camus - Decades later he dies In his publisher's Facel Vega. When she heard of Albert's demise Her initial reaction Was hysteria And it comes as no surprise That a few weeks later She died of diphtheria Which is so much easier to do When you're an existential emu.
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Apr 4, 2014
Apr 4, 2014 at 2:53 PM UTC
Albert Camus And His Existential Emu
I've now coined the diagnosis "Portable Hoarder" -  Carrying my life in bags and duffles, pockets and sleeves. Accumulating more baggage than would fit in a **** terminal. But now, I am home. Me, and my ***** laundry. And I don't fit anymore. Crammed amidst my past. Falling out the door; Spilling across my floor. Me, myself, and Marshall. **So, TONIGHT I'm cleaning out my closet.**
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May 5, 2016
May 5, 2016 at 7:20 AM UTC
I Was Raised by Marshall Mathers & JK Rowling
“Disaster Dan” skids into the Center's Game Room War Room Control Room Fueled by a red T-shirt proclaiming “Vince the Pizza Prince” He flips out his cellular... “IT ISN'T UP TO ME!" (Where does he get all those broken remotes?) ...flips open his cell and shouts commands “TURN THE POWER ON!" “YA HEARD ME!" (He is totally in control) “Fsssss    Fssssss   Fsssssss THE PIPES ARE ABOUT TO BLOW!” Drives his cruiser around the pool table Pulls alongside Fixes me point-blank and cockeyed “GET THESE KIDS OUTA THE BUILDING! THERE'S A BOMB ABOUT TA GO OFF!” An eight-year-old spins iz finger round iz ear and points a giggle Dan-- the kind of guy whose life peaked at Mount Saint Helen Does a warlock for Halloween Carries a portable showcase of horror prized possessions in a dishpan He explains his treasures “That is NOT a plastic scorpion!” Offended by my ignorance shoves it in my eyes “THIS IS A PREDATOR ALIEN, STUPID!" “CALIFORNIA WILL NOT COME BACK!" Dan sorta likes me We talk horror flicks He forbids the serious of me "CALIFORNIA WILL FALL OFF INTO THE OCEAN!” he hisses in a spray of spit Walks way, laughing, delighted! Shaking iz head Then back in my face again (for emphasis) “DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!" (He is dead serious) "THE GUY THAT CAUSED THAT HURRICANE WAS PAUL MCCARTNEY!" His counselor fills in my blank “Dan likes the Beatles That's the only thing he likes that isn't heinous”
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Oct 31, 2016
Oct 31, 2016 at 7:41 PM UTC
Well-Bound Predator/Flame 'O UFOs/Godzilla
Trophies for last place, And a Holiday for every weekend. A taste of this and that... OF Italy and Ireland and Asia and Germany and every township in the county, and 3 collective Miles of Portable Toilets, Strategically Positioned throughout each event. cause there is going to be a Lot of **** Hooray for whatever we are celebrating this weekend. Whichever one of the 30 different Woodstocks Or week long Music Festivals That exist only so the Hippest of Hipsters can congratulate each other on how Indie they are. Ya know, it's happy hour somewhere... Why not party All Day, Everyday? Devalue the weekend Like we have thanksgiving And New Years. A Five Kay For the Common Cold, And We'll even give trophies for last place. Cause we're all winners here. and we're all hungry. And What represents your heritage better than Pizza or sauerkraut or General Tso's And endless flowing barrels of refreshing, Ice cold, Domestically brewed and Nationally brand recognized Alcoholic Beverages? IT's The Great Dumb Down, Charlie Brown!!! A symptom of the Universe If there ever was one. Mass anesthesia to keep us all content With our collective mediocrities, our Forfeit Potential, Our Day Job that doesn't pay very well, But kind has benefits. So we stay on. In fear of nothing better. It makes feel important. Like Wheel of Fortune makes us feel smart. (Wow, you can spell?!)... Dwindling returns in a world of Beige and Pastels And the Muted Grays of limestone concrete. We Accept less and we Get less and we accept less and we Get less And On And on and on, till we hit that lowest common cultural denominator, where your race is what food you eat, And we all qualify for the special Olympics.
0
Jul 17, 2014
Jul 17, 2014 at 9:52 AM UTC
Peppermint Pattie's Farting Circus
Trophies for last place, And a Holiday for every weekend. A taste of this and that... OF Italy and Ireland and Asia and Germany and every township in the county, and 3 collective Miles of Portable Toilets, Strategically Positioned throughout each event. cause there is going to be a Lot of **** Hooray for whatever we are celebrating this weekend. Whichever one of the 30 different Woodstocks Or week long Music Festivals That exist only so the Hippest of Hipsters can congratulate each other on how Indie they are. Ya know, it's happy hour somewhere... Why not party All Day, Everyday? Devalue the weekend Like we have thanksgiving And New Years. A Five Kay For the Common Cold, And We'll even give trophies for last place. Cause we're all winners here. and we're all hungry. And What represents your heritage better than Pizza or sauerkraut or General Tso's And endless flowing barrels of refreshing, Ice cold, Domestically brewed and Nationally brand recognized Alcoholic Beverages? IT's The Great Dumb Down, Charlie Brown!!! A symptom of the Universe If there ever was one. Mass anesthesia to keep us all content With our collective mediocrities, our Forfeit Potential, Our Day Job that doesn't pay very well, But kind has benefits. So we stay on. In fear of nothing better. It makes feel important. Like Wheel of Fortune makes us feel smart. (Wow, you can spell?!)... Dwindling returns in a world of Beige and Pastels And the Muted Grays of limestone concrete. We Accept less and we Get less and we accept less and we Get less And On And on and on, till we hit that lowest common cultural denominator, where your race is what food you eat, And we all qualify for the special Olympics.
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50
you know that option for signing yourself off in a card not simply 'love' or even 'lots of love' the one with the deeper meaning the more you think about it the more it becomes yours truly these two words put together have different intentions there's the 'yours truly' that serves a kind, platonic message there's the 'yours truly' that's meant for business, formal and mandatory but the one this poem happens to be about is the one you write when you want that person to know .... well, wouldn't that be telling? it's a game of interpretation dependent on dynamic not only in the world of cards but in life, in literature, in love see i've had 18 years to ponder this and, you see, the phrase 'yours truly' always reminds me, somehow, of pride & prejudice another 'most ardently' it's one of those phrases that isn't just a phrase it's a message an intention i have never been 'yours truly' not until i met you in a world where intimacy = romance there's you and i more than family in words not yet discovered not yet in the dictionary i could describe us but that time has not yet come and i reckon i'll never find the right words i doubt i could even find the wrong ones nothing has ever really come close nothing but yours truly because you see that's the truth of it, brother i am truly yours and i know what you're thinking this sounds like a love poem and you'd be right it's just not a romantic one i am yours, truly truly yours yours truly in any way you arrange these two words it's perfectly describing you and i yours - because i belong to and with you in a way i never have with anyone else truly - because i couldn't think of a greater truth yours truly meaning; a walking, talking anchor, a source of comfort a however long phone call, a casual distraction in the form of a chat a sentinel at your side, whether physically or not, i'm with you a sister, a brother, a substitute for all and any family you might need a warm, breathing reminder that you are not a **** up, because here i remain a portable, perfectly willing cushion, a simple solution to touch starvation a buddy for those long nights where sleep escapes the both of us, a comrade in insomnia a single, everstanding, ever dilligent and passionate reason to continue living, another life you have saved a fellow adventurer, a fan of not just the things you love but the things you love and owe your happiness to a stubborn loyalty, a fierce, angry, vengeful power that will never dim and never die out, a companion in the worst of times a reason you can rest your weary body at the end of every day and every night without fear of the nightmares or abandonment so george this is a shambles a rambling mess but the point has always been that i am yours truly, alistair.
0
May 29, 2017
May 29, 2017 at 4:48 PM UTC
yours truly
you know that option for signing yourself off in a card not simply 'love' or even 'lots of love' the one with the deeper meaning the more you think about it the more it becomes yours truly these two words put together have different intentions there's the 'yours truly' that serves a kind, platonic message there's the 'yours truly' that's meant for business, formal and mandatory but the one this poem happens to be about is the one you write when you want that person to know .... well, wouldn't that be telling? it's a game of interpretation dependent on dynamic not only in the world of cards but in life, in literature, in love see i've had 18 years to ponder this and, you see, the phrase 'yours truly' always reminds me, somehow, of pride & prejudice another 'most ardently' it's one of those phrases that isn't just a phrase it's a message an intention i have never been 'yours truly' not until i met you in a world where intimacy = romance there's you and i more than family in words not yet discovered not yet in the dictionary i could describe us but that time has not yet come and i reckon i'll never find the right words i doubt i could even find the wrong ones nothing has ever really come close nothing but yours truly because you see that's the truth of it, brother i am truly yours and i know what you're thinking this sounds like a love poem and you'd be right it's just not a romantic one i am yours, truly truly yours yours truly in any way you arrange these two words it's perfectly describing you and i yours - because i belong to and with you in a way i never have with anyone else truly - because i couldn't think of a greater truth yours truly meaning; a walking, talking anchor, a source of comfort a however long phone call, a casual distraction in the form of a chat a sentinel at your side, whether physically or not, i'm with you a sister, a brother, a substitute for all and any family you might need a warm, breathing reminder that you are not a **** up, because here i remain a portable, perfectly willing cushion, a simple solution to touch starvation a buddy for those long nights where sleep escapes the both of us, a comrade in insomnia a single, everstanding, ever dilligent and passionate reason to continue living, another life you have saved a fellow adventurer, a fan of not just the things you love but the things you love and owe your happiness to a stubborn loyalty, a fierce, angry, vengeful power that will never dim and never die out, a companion in the worst of times a reason you can rest your weary body at the end of every day and every night without fear of the nightmares or abandonment so george this is a shambles a rambling mess but the point has always been that i am yours truly, alistair.
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71
Instead of foraging around making connections with cables and wireless systems that bluetooth and sync their way into our pocket technologies and portable screens (tablets of which we self-prescribe and regulate through overdose and comatose keenings of stillness and waking dreams) why, instead don’t we fool around making connections with others of like mind and brainwaves instead of radiowaves and the mastered minds of computer waves and lift an arm and really wave beyond our windows to real people in real time rather than peeping like a holographic Tom through tabs and browsing windows, multi-tasking time in a state of mime like it’s about to expire (like the wireless wires will break) and all that we’ll have is all we can physically take from this moment awake we call ‘life’ – a mistake. What else is left now in this vegetative one man one woman state where we live to close our eyes and shut our minds and wait for the modem-router to re-dial and get our avatar back online and our friends back into our multi-dimensional realer-than-time time? Pseudonyms solving identity changes emerge without birth with designer non-faces, as now that we no longer need imperfection or meaning or privacy or even perception we alter ourselves to impress our connections with whom we connect without really connecting by hiding as one almost nearing detection and tip-toeing straight past concern or reflection (invisible firewalls at our protection) our own walls around us with keys we can capslock, screening ourselves from unfriended friends, and playfully sated by charm and ‘pretends’ that will mean next to nothing when fantasy ends. Where ARE the connections we make in this digital age that we rarely turn off since the internet craze has become a new God that we dial to be saved as we sacrifice friends we once made face to face with those we are longing to meet as we race across networks with hunger and haste and with spambots and data and viruses made to detect and infect and reject, just for starters, and that’s not to mention the ads and the logins and passwords that lock us from somewhere far yonder that doesn’t exist as we grow ever fonder of pics and of pixels and texts of expression – the reality of which we could lose in a second.
0
Jul 10, 2015
Jul 10, 2015 at 7:13 PM UTC
SECURITY BEHIND INSECURITY
Instead of foraging around making connections with cables and wireless systems that bluetooth and sync their way into our pocket technologies and portable screens (tablets of which we self-prescribe and regulate through overdose and comatose keenings of stillness and waking dreams) why, instead don’t we fool around making connections with others of like mind and brainwaves instead of radiowaves and the mastered minds of computer waves and lift an arm and really wave beyond our windows to real people in real time rather than peeping like a holographic Tom through tabs and browsing windows, multi-tasking time in a state of mime like it’s about to expire (like the wireless wires will break) and all that we’ll have is all we can physically take from this moment awake we call ‘life’ – a mistake. What else is left now in this vegetative one man one woman state where we live to close our eyes and shut our minds and wait for the modem-router to re-dial and get our avatar back online and our friends back into our multi-dimensional realer-than-time time? Pseudonyms solving identity changes emerge without birth with designer non-faces, as now that we no longer need imperfection or meaning or privacy or even perception we alter ourselves to impress our connections with whom we connect without really connecting by hiding as one almost nearing detection and tip-toeing straight past concern or reflection (invisible firewalls at our protection) our own walls around us with keys we can capslock, screening ourselves from unfriended friends, and playfully sated by charm and ‘pretends’ that will mean next to nothing when fantasy ends. Where ARE the connections we make in this digital age that we rarely turn off since the internet craze has become a new God that we dial to be saved as we sacrifice friends we once made face to face with those we are longing to meet as we race across networks with hunger and haste and with spambots and data and viruses made to detect and infect and reject, just for starters, and that’s not to mention the ads and the logins and passwords that lock us from somewhere far yonder that doesn’t exist as we grow ever fonder of pics and of pixels and texts of expression – the reality of which we could lose in a second.
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81
Pretend you are a book, Being opened from time to time; Your pages being flipped, They tell a comic, story, or rhyme. Satisfy your readers, and always get them hooked You can be anything, and today you are a book.
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Apr 24, 2015
Apr 24, 2015 at 12:16 AM UTC
"Books are a Uniquely Portable Magic"
She peddles on the street Gold and silver laces At minimal costs. Brilliant stones, rubies Pile up her portable stall; Neither for rent nor for sale But in exchange of the love More priceless Than gemstones. Retail consumption Seems all mixed up. I can't recall If those clusters Are real, Not just ornaments On sidewalk trenches.
0
Jul 9, 2010
Jul 9, 2010 at 4:28 AM UTC
Ornaments
I'm seeking to amass a Collection of the World's spiritual, mythic and philosophical codices. I want to collect them out of veneration for those who came before who have tried to illuminate the Paths: The following is my library of such books of yet. Entries in bold are my recommendations; entries italicized are strongly recommended. -Old Works: **Egyptian Book of the Dead Tibetan Book of the Dead The Bhagavad Gita Euclid's Elements** Tao te Ching (I have 3 translations) I Ching (2 translations and a workbook) The Qur'an The Bible -Newer Works: Plato and a Platypus walk into a Bar: Philosophy explained through Jokes *Quadrivium: Number, Geometry, Music, & Cosmology* The Pulse of Wisdom - College Eastern Philosophy Book *Food of the Gods by Terence McKenna* The Elements of Reason - College Logic Book 1001 Perls of Buddhist Wisdom *Net of Being by Alex Grey* *Art Psalms by Alex Grey* **The Portable Nietzsche *The Red Book of Jung The Portable Jung*** The Subtle Body - Encyclopedia of chakras, auras and other personal energy systems. Who are you? - 101 Ways of Seeing Yourself -- I seek to compile this Collection not to have a nice looking bookshelf; nor do I seek to find which one is right. I seek to learn from each of these the lessons that are intrinsic in our Lives; they're all matters of perspectives. I want to compile the aspects of each philosophy with which I resonate and integrate them into my own, forging a dynamic and holistic individual philosophy. All of these books are Mystical masterpieces. All of these books provide insights to the nature of our Holy Reality. All of these books ultimately attempt to express the same ineffability. All of these books are interpreted then translated and interpreted again. The way I see it, I may as well do it for myself; draw my own conclusions: Think for myself.
0
Jul 5, 2013
Jul 5, 2013 at 4:13 AM UTC
Mythic, Philosophical Codices
I'm seeking to amass a Collection of the World's spiritual, mythic and philosophical codices. I want to collect them out of veneration for those who came before who have tried to illuminate the Paths: The following is my library of such books of yet. Entries in bold are my recommendations; entries italicized are strongly recommended. -Old Works: **Egyptian Book of the Dead Tibetan Book of the Dead The Bhagavad Gita Euclid's Elements** Tao te Ching (I have 3 translations) I Ching (2 translations and a workbook) The Qur'an The Bible -Newer Works: Plato and a Platypus walk into a Bar: Philosophy explained through Jokes *Quadrivium: Number, Geometry, Music, & Cosmology* The Pulse of Wisdom - College Eastern Philosophy Book *Food of the Gods by Terence McKenna* The Elements of Reason - College Logic Book 1001 Perls of Buddhist Wisdom *Net of Being by Alex Grey* *Art Psalms by Alex Grey* **The Portable Nietzsche *The Red Book of Jung The Portable Jung*** The Subtle Body - Encyclopedia of chakras, auras and other personal energy systems. Who are you? - 101 Ways of Seeing Yourself -- I seek to compile this Collection not to have a nice looking bookshelf; nor do I seek to find which one is right. I seek to learn from each of these the lessons that are intrinsic in our Lives; they're all matters of perspectives. I want to compile the aspects of each philosophy with which I resonate and integrate them into my own, forging a dynamic and holistic individual philosophy. All of these books are Mystical masterpieces. All of these books provide insights to the nature of our Holy Reality. All of these books ultimately attempt to express the same ineffability. All of these books are interpreted then translated and interpreted again. The way I see it, I may as well do it for myself; draw my own conclusions: Think for myself.
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47
Twas the last day of school before a long winter break Not a student was learning, they were all munching on cake The children had tidied, supplies all snug in their places With candy cane smiles lighting up their sweet faces The artwork was stowed in their backpacks with care In the hope that they'd bring holiday cheer home to share When outside the portable there arose such a clatter Ms. G sprang from the party to see what was the matter The class followed her out, filling up the whole porch And right out in front of them, near as a bright as a torch Rudolph, nose blazing red through the dark Vancouver rain, Behind him the reindeer pulling Santa’s sleigh like a train Santa jumped out spritely, red hat bouncing with glee He waved at the group and boomed out, "Hello there Ms. G," “And Division 14, all of you good girls and boys. We’re rehearsing our run to practice delivering toys” The reindeer pranced all round, putting on a fine show Santa offered his hand and said, “Come on Ms. G, let’s go,” “We’ll drop you in Mexico before we head back,” Ms. G happily agreed, asking “do you have time for a snack?” The class joyfully welcomed the jolly crew to the party They delighted in the games and the food, eating hearty Too soon it was time for the guests of honour to go Santa sprang to his sleigh and exclaimed, ** ** ** "Now, Rudoph and Dasher! Dancer, Prancer and ***** Now, Comet! on, Cupid! On, Donner on Blitzen! “To the top of the portable then over the school To Mexico we go, to Ms. G’s holiday by the pool.” And off the sleigh flew with Ms. G safely strapped in, Her pink toque a-bobbing, her face all a-grin They heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight— "Happy Holidays to all, and to all a good night!"
0
Dec 20, 2019
Dec 20, 2019 at 2:37 PM UTC
Twas the last day of school
Twas the last day of school before a long winter break Not a student was learning, they were all munching on cake The children had tidied, supplies all snug in their places With candy cane smiles lighting up their sweet faces The artwork was stowed in their backpacks with care In the hope that they'd bring holiday cheer home to share When outside the portable there arose such a clatter Ms. G sprang from the party to see what was the matter The class followed her out, filling up the whole porch And right out in front of them, near as a bright as a torch Rudolph, nose blazing red through the dark Vancouver rain, Behind him the reindeer pulling Santa’s sleigh like a train Santa jumped out spritely, red hat bouncing with glee He waved at the group and boomed out, "Hello there Ms. G," “And Division 14, all of you good girls and boys. We’re rehearsing our run to practice delivering toys” The reindeer pranced all round, putting on a fine show Santa offered his hand and said, “Come on Ms. G, let’s go,” “We’ll drop you in Mexico before we head back,” Ms. G happily agreed, asking “do you have time for a snack?” The class joyfully welcomed the jolly crew to the party They delighted in the games and the food, eating hearty Too soon it was time for the guests of honour to go Santa sprang to his sleigh and exclaimed, ** ** ** "Now, Rudoph and Dasher! Dancer, Prancer and ***** Now, Comet! on, Cupid! On, Donner on Blitzen! “To the top of the portable then over the school To Mexico we go, to Ms. G’s holiday by the pool.” And off the sleigh flew with Ms. G safely strapped in, Her pink toque a-bobbing, her face all a-grin They heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight— "Happy Holidays to all, and to all a good night!"
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64
Fermented undergarments farmers markets, Targets, turn tarnish! An angle of self-righteousness moves to left. . a group of cleft palates peel all the way back for the attic after a thousand years of theft. (Arent you in awe?) when hairless hands wrap and grab Tef – lon get on one of the seven horses. Hercules the matter seems urgent Please create morses. . Your Torsos show their bland position portable valves, three of horse pistons. so if they want violence, they certainly will achieve. shout above the crowd and call for former foreigners – roll up sleeves. in the white and black reality   we flee once we believe . but perfection is a perspective the artist is just an elective and a given IN GETTING BITTEN BY THE SOCIAL TAPE WORM – we let the world squirm  - and turn tighter in silky cob webs the spider traps and they took laps ‘til the insect bled out
0
Dec 9, 2014
Dec 9, 2014 at 11:25 PM UTC
7/11 Brand sunflower seeds
From sevenpanda.com . Computer accessories enhance the efficiency in the way you are using the computer. This additional stuff really adds value to your work and accelerates the rhythm of your job. Take the functions of basic accessories like speakers, printers, scanners, UPS, surge protector, headsets, cases and covers, cleaning and repair kits. Now imagine... can you do your business without these accessories? Now think about some advanced accessories, which include webcam, microphones, gaming equipments, portable storage devices, CD and DVD recordable drives, network accessories and modem. All these accessories - basic and advanced - to help your business flourish. Overall, accessories are must-have for a complete pc experience. No matter what kind of system you have, whether it is desktop pc or laptop, these hardware and peripherals can make or mar your business if not selected smartly. http://sevenpanda.com
0
Aug 28, 2013
Aug 28, 2013 at 4:02 AM UTC
Computer accessories
I was pulling up in the car park at the Immigration Removal Centre When I realised that I'd completely f 'ed up Having remembered: - portable recording studio - condensor microphones x 2 (one of them doesn't work, dunno which one, they look the same) - dynamic microphone (sometimes works) - XLR cables x 2 (in a tangled mess) - Jack cables x 2 (joining the party) - headphones - headphone splitter (a remedy for people who are always on their phone?!) - big-to-little adapters - kettle lead (so named because it dates back from when the kettle was king) - guitar - and two folders of important bits of paper (well, at least some of it might be important) I suddenly realised that I'd forgotten the only genuinely essential thing. My passport. You can't get in without your passport. That's the rule and the rules don't bend. Security is paramount. I find my colleague, Lucky, sitting in his car. Lucky: "Kev, you aren't gonna believe this but..." He didn't need to say anymore. I knew that he had done the same thing. Lucky and I were in the same *** of s***. But for some reason they made an exception. We were lucky. It must had rubbed off. (true story)
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Dec 29, 2011
Dec 29, 2011 at 1:53 PM UTC
Lucky
Ebola, a portable killing machine. No guns or knives. Don't touch or kiss the devilish ***** The dog that doesn't bite. It's not rabid but it kills. A dark hole brimming with fear. Traversing through dangerous skies. Worldwide transgression against all folk. No joke. For souls already caught. I pray you rest in peace. Under Deathly cape. Cloak and dagger secrets. Turning brothers against brothers. Sisters against man. The only place of residence chasing this disease. Mercy be shown by research. Stand up. Take care. Time to find a cure. Thought zombies only lived in cheap time movies. Or in the land of voodoo. Ebola, bringer of the living dead. (C) LIVVI
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Oct 12, 2014
Oct 12, 2014 at 5:55 AM UTC
EBOLA SKIES
Ever since their music was packaged and hit the scene, It has supplied the drug needs of the neighborhood teen. They try all kinds of piffs during their time to listen, From Common to the DJ Drama's pay attention. Gangsta Grills, Dedication, even the radio station Dropped out from Registration post-poning their graduation To the new age of crack, being played back to back On the Sirius XM or that playlist in your lap. Ipod's and MP3's are the new portable blunts, Pop in the food & liquor my Lupe to get full and drunk. So puff, puff, pass until your circle is fully high, Off of cyphers, freestyles, and the music from the wise. No matter your preference whether it is ***** or clean, We can be seen as a walking, talking music fiend.
0
Mar 11, 2010
Mar 11, 2010 at 2:49 PM UTC
Music Fiend
If Stephen King was black Obama would not be president Segregation would exist all over again OJ would have gotten guilty without a trial Except the black part would be technologically advanced cars that navigate themselves Sonic energy distribution portable wings the Rockateer would also therefore be black Disney Land would be scary and real Darwin would have been black Go go Gadget’s engineer would be black Malcolm X would have been mixed race Carl Sagan ran the blackest gang in Oakland If Stephen King was black Therefore Stephen Hawkings is black too Einstein invented Compton in ten minutes On a coffee break The bees Einstein was referring to are the African Killa bees And Einstein was the father of Wu tang Stephen Hawkings hangs out with Mike Tyson and Alicia Keys The Black Panthers like every other morning in the blackest house Washington DC Made me eggs benedict with fresh eggs and ham Dr Seuss is therefore black by association Aunt Jemima would run the FDA and tap maples trees in the Berkshires But she is white now America would turn a blind eye and play more volley ball and in us God would trust
0
Jun 11, 2016
Jun 11, 2016 at 11:35 AM UTC
If Stephen King was black...
There is this hell inside me where the flames are mesmerising it’s shape fits your outline it grows and shrinks                                             every time you walk in walk out. Tell you what i’ll be the empty house and you be the ghost I’ll keep my favourite illusions about us in tiny glass jars                                                                           (like portable mausoleums) What do you want for dinner?                                                          I'm leaving you Shall we watch The 7:30 Report?                                                          You’ll never see me again I’ve made your favourite dessert                                                          You can keep the house Did you know you can be crying for years and not even notice The funny trajectory of feelings They rise up       you take note                                   they fall away some don’t fall away becoming embedded in your bloodstream and there’s my only enemy right there inside me and no matter how much I vacuum the cracks in the floor my childhood just doesn’t change but maybe just maybe if i do everything the opposite way i was taught i might survive I thought you were the face of my survival                                                                              (silly I know)                                          I thought you were my very own swashbuckling hero like the one's dreamed up by Spielberg and Lucas but after awhile getting your hopes up becomes just another extreme sport If only i had known the best way to keep our romance alive was never getting to know each other Refunds for emotional disappointment should be a thing and weddings weddings should happen under water the suffocating non-air can break you in for your future You’re working back again/What’s her name? You know, there’s a freedom that comes with being forgotten actually I can relax and become a mountain again                                                                             free of perfecting myself to outshine your golden girls all of them competing for the crown in your secret world I would cry about it but i bought 80 pairs of shoes instead It will show up on your bank statement
0
May 26, 2015
May 26, 2015 at 4:12 AM UTC
Ghost Story/Tiny Mausoleums
There is this hell inside me where the flames are mesmerising it’s shape fits your outline it grows and shrinks                                             every time you walk in walk out. Tell you what i’ll be the empty house and you be the ghost I’ll keep my favourite illusions about us in tiny glass jars                                                                           (like portable mausoleums) What do you want for dinner?                                                          I'm leaving you Shall we watch The 7:30 Report?                                                          You’ll never see me again I’ve made your favourite dessert                                                          You can keep the house Did you know you can be crying for years and not even notice The funny trajectory of feelings They rise up       you take note                                   they fall away some don’t fall away becoming embedded in your bloodstream and there’s my only enemy right there inside me and no matter how much I vacuum the cracks in the floor my childhood just doesn’t change but maybe just maybe if i do everything the opposite way i was taught i might survive I thought you were the face of my survival                                                                              (silly I know)                                          I thought you were my very own swashbuckling hero like the one's dreamed up by Spielberg and Lucas but after awhile getting your hopes up becomes just another extreme sport If only i had known the best way to keep our romance alive was never getting to know each other Refunds for emotional disappointment should be a thing and weddings weddings should happen under water the suffocating non-air can break you in for your future You’re working back again/What’s her name? You know, there’s a freedom that comes with being forgotten actually I can relax and become a mountain again                                                                             free of perfecting myself to outshine your golden girls all of them competing for the crown in your secret world I would cry about it but i bought 80 pairs of shoes instead It will show up on your bank statement
Continue reading...
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DURING THIS VISIT I am a layman laid up with a very dodgy ankle that winced about Paris for almost a week with every footaghhhhhhhfall. Now it's the A&E; for me. The electronic noticeboard flashes up its what nots faster than I can scan. I barely catch CQC Good( shadow )Rating. Two wheelchairs (peopleless) chat about the this of that typical wheelchair chit-chat. A portable X-ray machine pretends to be a giraffe. "oooooOOOOK...we are going to get Geoff the Giraffe to have a look at that!" The child smiles through the pain. The screen peppers me with possibilities. Extremely likely? Neither Likely nor Unlikely? Etc., etc., etc. My mind opts for a simple I Don't Know. "Breast." says the screen." "Max Fax & Orthodontics." "Re-hab shouldn't be boring!" A questionnaire asks me to think. Big mistake. I start to think. Pain & Boredom turns these hospitalised facts ( what ever they mean? ) into a something only my brain can understand. "And now, straight in at No.! with a fantastic new single it's... ...Max Fax & The Orthodontics with the glorious bouncy BREAST!" "MORTALITY by The Upper Quartile falls down one place to No. 2!" My shadow is feeling very poorly at this instant in time. Hasn't even bothered to turn up. There goes my good (shadow)rating. I think I'll switch to silhouette instead. I practice my Ogham. SAT 4 APRIL says the clock. It's hands joined together in prayer. I switch off my mind & float down stream.
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Apr 5, 2015
Apr 5, 2015 at 7:22 PM UTC
WE WOULD LIKE YOU TO THINK ABOUT YOUR EXPERIENCE IN THE A&E DEPARTMENT