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"prank" poems
627 The Tint I cannot take—is best— The Color too remote That I could show it in Bazaar— A Guinea at a sight— The fine—impalpable Array— That swaggers on the eye Like Cleopatra’s Company— Repeated—in the sky— The Moments of Dominion That happen on the Soul And leave it with a Discontent Too exquisite—to tell— The eager look—on Landscapes— As if they just repressed Some Secret—that was pushing Like Chariots—in the Vest— The Pleading of the Summer— That other Prank—of Snow— That Cushions Mystery with Tulle, For fear the Squirrels—know. Their Graspless manners—mock us— Until the Cheated Eye Shuts arrogantly—in the Grave— Another way—to see—
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The Tint I cannot take—is best
Senior Present I walked in to the school this morning To see all of the teachers Munching and nibbling on food. I turned down the hallway to be greeted By a glorious sent that hit my nostrils I watched as kids floated down the hall way Towards the smell, they were just out of reach Of the food, as the smell led them to a closed door Of the teachers lounge. Inside were all sorts of candies. There was a candy Of every type, all shapes and sizes. No one was left Out every teacher had there favorite kind some ware. There were cakes and pies, Fudge and brownies, Ice cream and frozen yogurt. There was healthy food And nut free snacks. There was lollipops And twizlers. It was Halloween all over again, With a twist of fancy, It was a dessert buffet Just for the teachers. It was a way to thank them for all the Time they spent teaching us the same thing To have patience for all the questions, to help us In till we understood, staying extra hours to help us. This food display is a thanks to not just the teachers But to the janitors, the special education helpers The nurses, librarians, office and consoler office ladies The police officers and the principal her self. I thought it would be nice to give you all a special treat A present, instead a prank, since it is my senior year.
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Aug 21, 2012
Aug 21, 2012 at 8:26 PM UTC
Senior Present
You say you understand me And it feels nice Because it's 4am and we're connecting Because everything is exaggerated at 4am When the masks come off and the room is dark and there are 5 other people asleep on the floor When our whispers are raspy because we've been yelling for hours And the glow of the xbox lights our faces, because we forgot to turn it off And I tell you things that I've never told anyone Not even the people I tell everything The things I swore to myself I would keep secret forever But it's 4am And we prank called my crush and yours and everyone's exes And we talked about dating and *** and we laughed until the parents had to yell at us We ate pizza and chips and I felt like part of the group for the first time Because maybe I was Because you cared enough about me to poor your heart out and catch the contents of mine But who knows if you meant it Because it was 4am
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Apr 7, 2013
Apr 7, 2013 at 3:31 PM UTC
Sleepover
70 “Arcturus” is his other name— I’d rather call him “Star.” It’s very mean of Science To go and interfere! I slew a worm the other day— A “Savant” passing by Murmured “Resurgam”—”Centipede”! “Oh Lord—how frail are we”! I pull a flower from the woods— A monster with a glass Computes the stamens in a breath— And has her in a “class”! Whereas I took the Butterfly Aforetime in my hat— He sits ***** in “Cabinets”— The Clover bells forgot. What once was “Heaven” Is “Zenith” now— Where I proposed to go When Time’s brief masquerade was done Is mapped and charted too. What if the poles should frisk about And stand upon their heads! I hope I’m ready for “the worst”— Whatever prank betides! Perhaps the “Kingdom of Heaven’s” changed— I hope the “Children” there Won’t be “new fashioned” when I come— And laugh at me—and stare— I hope the Father in the skies Will lift his little girl— Old fashioned—naught—everything— Over the stile of “Pearl.”
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Arcturus is his other name
# *The Muse of Whimsy has arrived.   I really feel the need To take a break from poignant and my impish humor feed. A silly prank's in order so I'll leave some noggin bear By filling up their shampoo bottle with a cup of hair removal "Nair". I'll put a rubber hot dog in some hungry knot head's bun. Watching his expression should be worth a lot of fun. Humiliation is a blast when dignity is lost. If someone's feelings are the price. well then it's worth the cost. Somebody always loses if your heart is made of stone Laughter is contagious but leave well enough alone. Compassion is the brakes you use when things get out of hand. Laugh, but pass the laughter on then most people will understand.* #
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Apr 1, 2018
Apr 1, 2018 at 10:05 AM UTC
April Fools
688 “Speech“—is a prank of Parliament— “Tears“—is a trick of the nerve— But the Heart with the heaviest freight on— Doesn’t—always—move—
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Speech—is a prank of Parliament
My friends a witch doctor He wants to grab from within Yes, he is a witch doctor He is a horrible beast And when you feed the witch doctor You give plenty of yeast Oh yeah dude you are the coolest dude I ever saw You are the witch doctor From Bangalore You see the witch doctor He’ll steal food off your plate Yes that witch doctor He doesn’t wanna be your mate He is a witch doctor Which will grab from within You see he is a bad witch doctor We need to lock him up Oh yeah dudes swing your hips And party party party real ****** hard Then the witch doctor Will move to Australia To show us you can really party Without alcohol But Australians won’t listen mate they need their alcohol And that is the way of this Crazy mixed up world With the witch doctor Being the target by police But his powers make the police Say just this The witch doctor is too powerful Nobody will catch him, no Then the witch, who is the witch doctors wife She told him to stop his little prank The witch doctor said No I will never stop oh no So the witch cast a spell to make the witch doctor more loving Then the witch doctor Went to the party He really enjoyed himself there There was no need for evil The witch and the witch doctor Lived happily ever after And they did
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Aug 19, 2018
Aug 19, 2018 at 12:12 AM UTC
the tale of the witch doctor
I use to laugh at ironic things No punishment for the bad deeds The Bible says that good 10 fold The universe returns to us in gold That fairytales and nursery rhymes Exist to scare and keep us in line But on this day fate stepped in And karma it seems is a comedian A lesson weaved throughout every line Carefully crafted as a warning sign It was a day like any other As usual jumped in the shower Quickly washed and rinsed my hair Noticed too late that it was NAIR! Every luscious lock and strand Fell out completely in my hand What seems like a sick joke being played Or demented parts a malicious prank A plot unfolded my part the lead The lines straight from a horror scene Like laws of nature or earths gravity The rules we bend to suit our need Like a boomerang’s invisible path It seems to follow when it comes back Even the ocean and it’s changing tides Needs the moon’s persuasive side We are the keepers of what we seek And what we sow we indeed will reap The nightmare that we fear the most Comes back to haunt us like a ghost Like Peter Pan and Captain Hook Just a good story in a children’s book what if the earth gets bored of us And decides that we are entertainment those characters we read as kids Like Pinocchio or the 3 little pigs Sleeping beauty or the ogre Shrek You thought was funny as a sketch Brought to life would pose a threat Although to you this seems far fetched The truth Ive written has not been stretched I hope you read this and know as fact What you put out there will soon come back
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Sep 26, 2018
Sep 26, 2018 at 8:47 AM UTC
Karma Comedian
I use to laugh at ironic things No punishment for the bad deeds The Bible says that good 10 fold The universe returns to us in gold That fairytales and nursery rhymes Exist to scare and keep us in line But on this day fate stepped in And karma it seems is a comedian A lesson weaved throughout every line Carefully crafted as a warning sign It was a day like any other As usual jumped in the shower Quickly washed and rinsed my hair Noticed too late that it was NAIR! Every luscious lock and strand Fell out completely in my hand What seems like a sick joke being played Or demented parts a malicious prank A plot unfolded my part the lead The lines straight from a horror scene Like laws of nature or earths gravity The rules we bend to suit our need Like a boomerang’s invisible path It seems to follow when it comes back Even the ocean and it’s changing tides Needs the moon’s persuasive side We are the keepers of what we seek And what we sow we indeed will reap The nightmare that we fear the most Comes back to haunt us like a ghost Like Peter Pan and Captain Hook Just a good story in a children’s book what if the earth gets bored of us And decides that we are entertainment those characters we read as kids Like Pinocchio or the 3 little pigs Sleeping beauty or the ogre Shrek You thought was funny as a sketch Brought to life would pose a threat Although to you this seems far fetched The truth Ive written has not been stretched I hope you read this and know as fact What you put out there will soon come back
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every time I speak to your best friend I pray to every Aztec God and once holy Pharaohs and stones worshiped on this planet that he tell me you are nearby, or that this was all a big sad joke, or a prank or that you would come back but no.
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Jun 2, 2014
Jun 2, 2014 at 7:47 AM UTC
two
Romilda was an old lady, She had no small baby, So she petted her sisters daughter, Who only drank milk but not water, Little baby had a nice name which was Angelina Geolly But her life was a worry, She never went for the studio, Never had Romeo, She was brought up at a village, But had a wide knowledge, Her old aunt was always frank, But Angelina Geolly use to prank, One morning Angelina knocked her head on the wall, And started dialing a call, It was to none other than the fire brigade, Hello, Come asap for our gate, Fire! Fear! Fire! After an hour they reached in, It was all about a recycle bin Angeline had only meant, fire at her aunts cooker, But they responded you little sucker! The poor Aunt Matilda had to pay, For their visit all the way But still the house wasn’t grey! Some people, few people started to blame Angelina Geolly! She ran into her trolley, And Angelina Cried Cried Cried, But later she was Fried Fried Fried
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Aug 20, 2010
Aug 20, 2010 at 11:30 PM UTC
NEVER NEVER PRANK
I dialed your number.... my hands repeating something they've known all too well in the past and I grasped the phone in great anticipation listening to your tone but when you said hello you were greeted by my silence What could I really say? ...it wouldn't change a thing I just let the static eat away The radiation light up my brain and the heat in my cheeks cool as you ended this strange encounter with someone unknown But you knew me once you shook me once At one point I was your world but now I am just your pathetic prank caller leaving you waiting on my word which we both know is shot to hell
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Apr 17, 2013
Apr 17, 2013 at 8:20 PM UTC
Prank Calls
How fast a vegetable heart can perish? A toddler growing like a seed of corn Planted on a fertile ground So cherished, Like a man after the king's heart. Not knowing nature has a different plan against him Or men of the underworld are strongly against his being And too desperate to shower unending tears on her fresh mother's smiling cheeks He was stolen away by death. I can't forget that dark scaring night Where all the heavenly bodies were dead asleep. The echoes of his granny shout still live in my head A shout she made like she just realised she has been praying into deaf ears The prowess of which I plucked him off my mother laps to my chest Still baffles me The race we ran to the empty darkness outside Reminds me of the speed of a certain Bolt from Jamaica. In prayers, speed and tears We continue our race to a center for health care Too much fluid is lost, the doctor summited and aided us to continue our race for more competence. Competence often too difficult to find in this part of Africa. To cut it all short, competence was found Treatment was made Praises bell began to ring in our hearts for we thought he was already saved. Yes, the next morning, he moved, smiled and uses hands to play! But the noon that follows the whole story changed And the ceremony of mourning began. His spirited effort wasn't enough and he had to leave us, No, he was jealously taken away from us Just weeks before his first year birthday. The stain of his tears still lives on my mother pillow Reminding her that she was a grand mother for eleven months and a week ago. His happy face still stand in a picture at a corner of her mother mirror Recalling the fact that she has lost a gem to the world of ghosts. His father striving to remain a man as he pushes to get loans To pay up his medical  bills from family and folks even from supposing foes. The pain of his departure never cease to add Bitter sound to my heart beat, Though forgotten how cute he was when he was alive But I never fail to remember how cute he became in dead indeed. His demise was a script Unseen, Till date it remain a prank to me. Amidst all the experiences I have been forced to face This is one of the scripts I wish it was never written nor played.
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Feb 8, 2014
Feb 8, 2014 at 6:18 PM UTC
The Script Unseen.
How fast a vegetable heart can perish? A toddler growing like a seed of corn Planted on a fertile ground So cherished, Like a man after the king's heart. Not knowing nature has a different plan against him Or men of the underworld are strongly against his being And too desperate to shower unending tears on her fresh mother's smiling cheeks He was stolen away by death. I can't forget that dark scaring night Where all the heavenly bodies were dead asleep. The echoes of his granny shout still live in my head A shout she made like she just realised she has been praying into deaf ears The prowess of which I plucked him off my mother laps to my chest Still baffles me The race we ran to the empty darkness outside Reminds me of the speed of a certain Bolt from Jamaica. In prayers, speed and tears We continue our race to a center for health care Too much fluid is lost, the doctor summited and aided us to continue our race for more competence. Competence often too difficult to find in this part of Africa. To cut it all short, competence was found Treatment was made Praises bell began to ring in our hearts for we thought he was already saved. Yes, the next morning, he moved, smiled and uses hands to play! But the noon that follows the whole story changed And the ceremony of mourning began. His spirited effort wasn't enough and he had to leave us, No, he was jealously taken away from us Just weeks before his first year birthday. The stain of his tears still lives on my mother pillow Reminding her that she was a grand mother for eleven months and a week ago. His happy face still stand in a picture at a corner of her mother mirror Recalling the fact that she has lost a gem to the world of ghosts. His father striving to remain a man as he pushes to get loans To pay up his medical  bills from family and folks even from supposing foes. The pain of his departure never cease to add Bitter sound to my heart beat, Though forgotten how cute he was when he was alive But I never fail to remember how cute he became in dead indeed. His demise was a script Unseen, Till date it remain a prank to me. Amidst all the experiences I have been forced to face This is one of the scripts I wish it was never written nor played.
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My breath fogged your glasses well... someones glasses hard to tell hard to see hard to care so I whipped up a couple of blinks and pumped more blood garden fresh cheeks lace and sweet cherry knots memorizing scripts in margarita swirls same sentences--erased lines spied the EXIT fall crashed with a simple laugh I laughed too rows of lipstick stains and plastic strips tripping over the way out muttering punk sputtering prank then they wobbled out the ENTRANCE and I ordered more foggy glasses
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Jul 5, 2012
Jul 5, 2012 at 10:34 PM UTC
TGIF
Bill played piano down by the bar, moldy old show tunes gray-haired folks listened to, in youth they'd played over...and over. He once told me he was terminal, diagnosed with months left, and had just one request of his own to be met before accepting eternal rest - peace in the kiss of a handsome young man who's powder blue eyes might make him feel young again. I thought he would weep, and heart aching, obliged, gratified by the smile, sweet joy it seemed to bring him... 'till Sarah stuffed a dollar in the tumbler of tips he kept perched on the edge of the piano he played - he'd won their wager he could get the straight kid to kiss him. Sarah cooked in the kitchen and I always wondered what sort of mother named her son - Sarah Vaughn - then heard the sparrow sing on the radio, laughing because the one I knew squawked like a crow and dressed in wigs and woman's clothes when work was finally done. The coincidence seemed a delicious, karmic prank, payment for some past-life indiscretion. Michael studied flamboyance, raised to high art in sweeps of his hand, head tossed back, as if to keep pace with legs was annoyance. Adolescent innocence ended when I realized the only other guy employed there who was straight like me - was really a she - chest wrapped real tight.
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May 1, 2010
May 1, 2010 at 9:38 PM UTC
Joe's Seafood Restaurant
To wind I lend my ears, her prank instantly cheers, then on our separate ways.
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Mar 23, 2019
Mar 23, 2019 at 11:51 AM UTC
A casual affair that cheers
I remember as if it were yesterday, You were helping me with math problems once again, We would sit there for hours, Sketching various triangles with one simple pen. I can never forget, The college-level words you asked me to spell, We both were in complete fascination and suspense, As far as I can tell. I recall you teaching me a bit of yiddish as well, "Yachna and fashlepta chlank," I annuciated so well, This was no prank. I remmeber beating you in shuffle board, But It still might have been a tie, Because you played exceptionally well, As good and sweet as pie. I will always remember, Our long walks in Greak Neck, Papa and Shari bonding, While watching the beautiful scenery from the deck. I remember you took me to the beach in Greak Neck, Where we surprised Bubbie with a large horseshoe crab, Bubbie was frozen will fear, And almost took a cab. The late night outdoor concerts, You used to take me to, I became really fond of the music, And the massive amount of ***** in you. Now I know this next line is going to seem quite strange, But I remember blowing the garage door open with all my might, Thinking that is how it's supposed to open, And proud of myself for shining bright. One of the best of times, Was when you took me to the golfing range, I swung the club multiple times missing the ball, Calling myself deranged. The days when we all went to ihop, And to piccolos for lunch, Everything was delectable, Thanks a bunch! We've been to the movies many times, Where we'd sometimes surprisingly cry, Bubbie would say, "Oh, my God look at Papa," But your reasons for crying were beautifully justified. Just the thought of me coming to visit you, Makes me form such a luminous smile, Because there is no other Papa like you, A Papa so outgoing, loving, and all the worth while.
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Apr 23, 2013
Apr 23, 2013 at 8:54 PM UTC
Untitled
I remember as if it were yesterday, You were helping me with math problems once again, We would sit there for hours, Sketching various triangles with one simple pen. I can never forget, The college-level words you asked me to spell, We both were in complete fascination and suspense, As far as I can tell. I recall you teaching me a bit of yiddish as well, "Yachna and fashlepta chlank," I annuciated so well, This was no prank. I remmeber beating you in shuffle board, But It still might have been a tie, Because you played exceptionally well, As good and sweet as pie. I will always remember, Our long walks in Greak Neck, Papa and Shari bonding, While watching the beautiful scenery from the deck. I remember you took me to the beach in Greak Neck, Where we surprised Bubbie with a large horseshoe crab, Bubbie was frozen will fear, And almost took a cab. The late night outdoor concerts, You used to take me to, I became really fond of the music, And the massive amount of ***** in you. Now I know this next line is going to seem quite strange, But I remember blowing the garage door open with all my might, Thinking that is how it's supposed to open, And proud of myself for shining bright. One of the best of times, Was when you took me to the golfing range, I swung the club multiple times missing the ball, Calling myself deranged. The days when we all went to ihop, And to piccolos for lunch, Everything was delectable, Thanks a bunch! We've been to the movies many times, Where we'd sometimes surprisingly cry, Bubbie would say, "Oh, my God look at Papa," But your reasons for crying were beautifully justified. Just the thought of me coming to visit you, Makes me form such a luminous smile, Because there is no other Papa like you, A Papa so outgoing, loving, and all the worth while.
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48
women march wrapped in foil. my daughter is afflicted with eyesight. while thunder remains god’s most solemn prank, the moon is the bottom of a prop tree. I exist to keep the image of my suffering alive. my father is a cloak that mows the lawn.
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Sep 23, 2013
Sep 23, 2013 at 4:37 PM UTC
mosquito
Recall all the sweet moments in life Those that you want to re-live again Sure there are a million of them Joyous and sweet, exciting and engaging Let us freeze those moments in time Too precious to go off our heart They make life worth living And give each fresh day a kick start In our mad rush for power and pelf Many such moments skip by unnoticed Moments of great beauty and grace And wonders that still lie undisclosed Have you forgotten to laugh over a prank? Have you stopped watching a lovely scene? Have you evaded a gregarious company? Have you failed to enjoy a savory cuisine? Break free of the ropes that bind Let loose the spirit within Shed out your dry reticence n’ reserve Let your geniality, many hearts win Crack a joke, laugh out loud Wear a smile, walk an extra mile Chill out, lose in the beauty of the dusk Praise someone without any guile No matter you are seventy or seventeen Still spry enough to have frolic and fun Youthful enough to cherish hopes and dreams For life affably beckons and is not done!
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Jul 22, 2016
Jul 22, 2016 at 7:14 AM UTC
A Recipe for Joyful Living
509 If anybody’s friend be dead It’s sharpest of the theme The thinking how they walked alive— At such and such a time— Their costume, of a Sunday, Some manner of the Hair— A prank nobody knew but them Lost, in the Sepulchre— How warm, they were, on such a day, You almost feel the date— So short way off it seems— And now—they’re Centuries from that— How pleased they were, at what you said— You try to touch the smile And dip your fingers in the frost— When was it—Can you tell— You asked the Company to tea— Acquaintance—just a few— And chatted close with this Grand Thing That don’t remember you— Past Bows, and Invitations— Past Interview, and Vow— Past what Ourself can estimate— That—makes the Quick of Woe!
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If anybody’s friend be dead
other than weirded the **** out she didn’t know how to feel about it so she read the words again SO GLAD TO SEE YOU ALIVE AND FINE, LOVE! ALWAYS KNEW MY DAUGHTER WILL MAKE IT BIG IN THIS SMALL WORLD. LOVE, DADDY The words were written with a black marker on a $100 bill that someone threw at her in the club while she was stripping on the pole Could’ve been a ****** prank but $100 was a bit too much to spend for laughs She tried to remember the faces of all the men who gathered around her and howled as she did her number but they were simply too many and too bland Later that night she asked the management to remove private lap dances from her list of services for a while and the request was denied Well, when you make it big in a small world you either carry the weight of fame on your shoulders or get crushed At least the money bought a good dinner for her little daughter and the two cats
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Apr 8, 2022
Apr 8, 2022 at 2:11 AM UTC
making it big in a small world
No peace in heaven No life in hell I had learnt . Left by my tutor to choose Choose between living in violence Or dying doomed for eternity. By my assumptions The two seems too close for an option By law no one is meant to sit on the fence. They say "life is a journey" But I wonder how I agreed to embarked on it at first Maybe I was forced Forced to be born Or maybe it was my fault My fault that I was too desperate to be born Born into a world of wars Where we fight against all Against trust Even against God. I wish I knew the beginning before I was conceived I wish I could tell where this path will end me I wish Heaven is sure Sure that I could end my journey here and cross Cross into eternal peace without being judge Judged by the devil for not being his follower Or judged by God for not being as perfect as His followers. I just wish all this second coming thing remain a prank A prank That will end a joke contrary as plan What a great relieve it will be If the spirit leaves the flesh to be So I could just sit on the fence in peace And Losing Heaven stop being my greatest fear indeed.
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Jan 12, 2014
Jan 12, 2014 at 12:04 PM UTC
My Greatest Fear
It was with ice cold winds that blew across their cheeks that their bodies found the warmth in each other to ignore the painful prickles of goose bumps they felt not knowing if it was because of the crispy air or the touch of warmth their hands imprinted on each other... it was a night filled with hope, and stars and laughter dark , yet filled with light... on the trampoline in my backyard... that was where it happened... I was trying my way with the boy that sat across from me... they made it easy because they left us... there on that trampoline they were lost somewhere deep in each others eyes as I struggled to maintain sane , alone, with that boy I was growing jealous of their blossoming love how fast did it grow to reach the height, the height my heart has been struggling to achieve in years... but I was happy... for them they were happy... they were... then as if the cosmos played a little prank on my little friends heart... like the tower of babel... their love reached the height where it crumbled, and fell apart... and those who built it was left strangers, nothing but mere foreigners... one was headed to sunny Florida, he was okay... the other one... my friend, was headed to Linfen without a way of communicating his pain his loss his ... love today we sit and converse about the hope that may still remain the revenge we may still take on the ruthless foreigner from Florida and the other boy on the trampoline... hoping that maybe... if they ever decide to build a love of their own... it will be corrupted by the pain they have caused, from their pasts. and we hope
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Nov 16, 2013
Nov 16, 2013 at 11:02 AM UTC
Florida to Linfen
It was with ice cold winds that blew across their cheeks that their bodies found the warmth in each other to ignore the painful prickles of goose bumps they felt not knowing if it was because of the crispy air or the touch of warmth their hands imprinted on each other... it was a night filled with hope, and stars and laughter dark , yet filled with light... on the trampoline in my backyard... that was where it happened... I was trying my way with the boy that sat across from me... they made it easy because they left us... there on that trampoline they were lost somewhere deep in each others eyes as I struggled to maintain sane , alone, with that boy I was growing jealous of their blossoming love how fast did it grow to reach the height, the height my heart has been struggling to achieve in years... but I was happy... for them they were happy... they were... then as if the cosmos played a little prank on my little friends heart... like the tower of babel... their love reached the height where it crumbled, and fell apart... and those who built it was left strangers, nothing but mere foreigners... one was headed to sunny Florida, he was okay... the other one... my friend, was headed to Linfen without a way of communicating his pain his loss his ... love today we sit and converse about the hope that may still remain the revenge we may still take on the ruthless foreigner from Florida and the other boy on the trampoline... hoping that maybe... if they ever decide to build a love of their own... it will be corrupted by the pain they have caused, from their pasts. and we hope
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If not with those Pennies insure the Prank And take Profession from his Engineer Replace his Dowry; His Welcome be Frank For billowing Youths on his Life-Blown Steer How unique then, your Generation's greet Something which the Elders may not hold place To bribe their Thumbs; Tens-by-Ten-Places meet And pass his Tickets for your jolly face But what squabble must this Ritual provide Save that Ceremony which marks your Friend To whose Toyish Moments breathe your Confide By his Years consult your own Testament. This was your Cue. To come out of your Shell Free from your Chains; To those Vices be well.
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Apr 10, 2013
Apr 10, 2013 at 10:21 AM UTC
SONNET TRIBUTE SUNDRY - ONE HUNDRED AND EIGHTY FOUR - TOM DALEY
Keep distance, the Snail said, I don't feel safe with humans around and my pace makes me so vulnerable. He took a deep breath and added, do you ever feel my toil to move from place to place while the winds blow in gusts and the world passes by like a storm? My minutes tick like your hours and hours days as I climb the mountains of walls cover furlongs of ground rest and restart never really knowing where the path ends. And you only add to my woes. Your prank of a kick rolls me back and down all the way to beyond from where I began. A teardrop gathered in his opal eyes. But it really doesn't matter, a smile broke through the tears, I see with all your pace you're so far from happiness.
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Feb 21, 2018
Feb 21, 2018 at 8:49 AM UTC
Snail's Pace