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1664 I did not reach Thee But my feet slip nearer every day Three Rivers and a Hill to cross One Desert and a Sea I shall not count the journey one When I am telling thee. Two deserts, but the Year is cold So that will help the sand One desert crossed— The second one Will feel as cool as land Sahara is too little price To pay for thy Right hand. The Sea comes last—Step merry, feet, So short we have to go— To play together we are prone, But we must labor now, The last shall be the lightest load That we have had to draw. The Sun goes crooked— That is Night Before he makes the bend. We must have passed the Middle Sea— Almost we wish the End Were further off— Too great it seems So near the Whole to stand. We step like Plush, We stand like snow, The waters murmur new. Three rivers and the Hill are passed— Two deserts and the sea! Now Death usurps my Premium And gets the look at Thee.
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25.3k
I did not reach Thee
so you're an e-girl havin fun online girl patreon subscribe girl premium snapchat girl I'm that white knight asking you for nudes type saying I'll treat you right crying about Chad type I'm the niiiiiice guy
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Aug 7, 2019
Aug 7, 2019 at 10:23 PM UTC
lol
the british way, not mentioning yarn, too much, repeating words, where no longer necessary. wool in abundance here, piled on wool lorries, neatly balanced with premium acrylic. it is a fine line we walk, gently avoiding peptides, only just a theory, yet used independantly, alongside honest work, for mending. today is hallow e’en sbm
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Oct 31, 2013
Oct 31, 2013 at 2:00 AM UTC
describing wool
I have some aches that are not fiction so my doctor wrote a prescription She sent it to the pharmacy near so I can get my mind adhered I went to pick it up today assured that all would be ok The pharmacy tech was really nice but said I had to pay full price It seems as though I was denied my insurance claimed the doctor lied All I wanted was to feel better but now i'm shackled to this fetter I pay my premium; my budget festers while the insurance company pays their investors I guess i'll wait another year insanity comes closer, I fear.
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Sep 28, 2018
Sep 28, 2018 at 2:17 PM UTC
The Wealth of Mental Health
Moved to Colorado the other day, Told the wife I needed to get away. I guess she didn't think that I'd be gone long, Since all I packed was underwear and a **** The decision to move was easy to make, In fact, it was a piece of cake. Ten long years with that naggin' ***** I definitely knew it was time for a switch. One day I just realized that I had enough, So I grabbed a bag, and packed my stuff, Didn't even bother to say 'Goodbye,' All I could think about was getting high. I knew I belonged here, it was in my blood, To live in a state where I can buy premium bud, Yeah, getting away was really the point, You might say I traded the wife for a joint. Just bought me another bag of **** Seems I got everything here I need, Once I smoke me another blunt, I'll forget all about that evil gal. Now the smoking be really fine, The 7-11 is where I dine, No one to be a constant pain in my *** While I'm sitting here smoking up my grass. It's nice to be here on my own, Sparking up yet another bone, On days I don't want to roll, I can just pack me a bowl. These days I got a smile on my face, A huge grin you just can't erase, No nagging ***** to drive me insane, Just hangin' here with Mary Jane. I'd like to sit around and conversate, But with Mary Jane, I got a date, And if you happen to run into my ex-wife, You can tell her I finally got a life. 01-09-14.
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Jan 9, 2014
Jan 9, 2014 at 10:55 PM UTC
Colorado Calling
“By any means necessary” Words of encouragement to my self-depreciated soul Pure happiness coming at a premium The outside world strips me; making me its ***** Strange lips and unfamiliar hands cradle me Satisfaction in this sense is only temporary Criticism coming from every direction Questioning whether my lifestyle is necessary I’ve never enjoyed my naked predicament However, it’s my only productive option Allowing simpletons to simply have their way Faking pleasure, keeping my pain locked in After so much abuse, I try to be a man Clothing myself again, ******* up the tears The world has other ideas Unleashing every one of my fears Again, cold and abandoned I find myself back at square one Becoming a slave to the world Just another form of prostitution
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Nov 14, 2014
Nov 14, 2014 at 1:24 PM UTC
Prostitution
Freedom is premium priced, At the casino of the world nations throw the dice, The tables are rigged by the fat rats and mice, Girls in curvaceous miniskirts on poles entice, ***** laced drinks and cancer sticks merrily fleece, Fizzy burgers are served filled with crucified cheese, Layers of salt and blood and veins congealing with grease Are the fillings inside the consumed meat, Come to the sale of the century and let your life be diseased, Take whatever you want and still you will never be pleased, Remember, one day all will be held to account, so all evil immediately cease, Do not make the mistake to ********** the legend of glorious Hercules Or pollute and sell the message of almighty God so cheaply. ©Rangzeb Hussain
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Apr 16, 2010
Apr 16, 2010 at 3:40 AM UTC
Sell Hercules
The making of a ***** martini is truly an art, ***** and vermouth are merely a start, But follow my advice and you can depend, On achieving perfection in the end. First the martini glasses should be filled, With a little ice to ensure they're chilled, Your next step as the martini maker, Is to put some ice in the shaker. Next pour in the ***** a premium kind, For the perfect martini, use the best you can find, Just a dash of vermouth is all it should take, For the best martini you can make. For a drink that's smooth and never rough, The next step I just can't stress enough, Grab the olive juice and begin to pour, And if you think it's plenty, pour some more. Put the lid on the shaker and give a few shakes, Just a few seconds is really all it takes, Now take the glasses and dump the ice, And add a couple olives, plump and nice. Then over those olives you can begin to pour, And then start to savor what's in store, For if you follow this little rhyme, You'll have the perfect martini every time. 11-08-10b.
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Jan 2, 2012
Jan 2, 2012 at 1:07 AM UTC
The ***** Martini
You are like economics, Your addictive touch, my unlimited want. Forget our chemistry, physics & genetics, But you, I just can't! Ne'er scarce in relation to my demand, You know my every mood & curve. You alone, can my heart command, As market prices shift & swerve. I am normative, you positive, Opposites attract? Tis true! Our every action, cumulative, Together, the perfect graph we drew. Your utility, I cannot question, You chipped away my unstable equilibrium. Your every approach, devoid of confusion, Insurance of our love, requires no premium. Though our needs are ever recurring, Our time, brief and limited. Memories created are never-ending, Opportunity cost for you? Never hinted. You are the good, worst, better & best, Most importantly, you are never a test!!
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Sep 17, 2018
Sep 17, 2018 at 9:40 AM UTC
Economics of Love
kids only see txt they don't have any feelings only the screens of their smartphones they only talk via tweets RTs & "comments" low poly skinhead cyberpunks living in HD premium worlds it's only diodes that iphone ain't got no soul - not like it used to be it used to be real they don't have feelings it's just txts on screens they dnt have feelings they dnt hv any feelng
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Jun 19, 2013
Jun 19, 2013 at 2:24 PM UTC
Unlimited Text
old soybean crop dry & brown ---empty rustcap 12 shot bottle canadian club premium ---broken ("good quality") wooden blinds crowfeathers. muddy packs of darts: ménage (4) peter jackson (2) next (1) number seven blacks (3) john player (2) shreds---plastic . . . bags of earth all manner cardboard thinlike drinkcups (tim horton's mostly) ******                                   child's wristwatch (..plastic) frog in a cardboard box dozen pair new (white) socks? still bagged---
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Oct 11, 2011
Oct 11, 2011 at 11:01 PM UTC
magazine man/road clean up/good white sox blues
All days may not start well Things may not go to plan Punctuality monsoon will tell Start as early as you can But not always in our hands Things at the mercy of rain Is there any place to stand? In a Mumbai fast local train? More so when it is late Leaving you at the hands of fate Men push, jostle and bicker Place to stand is a premium At your expense, they snicker For a while, it’s pandemonium To and fro, back and forth Swung for all your worth Then the train stops when it shouldn’t Getting further late when it shouldn’t When time comes to alight You are expected to defy gravity Jumping a moving train with no clarity Changing over at Dadar is no delight Later greeted by grime and muck Rain at Lower Parel adds to bad luck Noisy motorists on a narrow street Make your mind admit defeat Reaching office is a relief Your sweat beggars belief Just the start of a long day ahead A miracle not to lose your head
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Jul 25, 2017
Jul 25, 2017 at 11:08 AM UTC
A bad hair day in Mumbai local trains
August 10th, you seemed so distant Not quite as distant as the barrel of one gun The gun that fired the shot that would stun The scientific world, from Rutherford to Niels Bohr To find out esteemed fellow scientist Moseley was no more But before that, in 1913 X-ray spectra was naught more than a dream Before diffraction through crystals became the truth The wavelengths needed a meaning, and there was proof You developed a mathematical system without flaw One so great, it was named "Moseley's law" Mendeleev had the right idea, but not a plan Could not arrange the elements the way that you now can Without you, my sir, we would not have had this premium To enjoy the elements technetium, hafnium, promethium, and rhenium These gaps that like stars littered the periodic table Were filled with ease, and the cosmos became stable You had set the foundation for crystallography of x-rays A method of determining arrangement that is still used in modern days The first machines in use were those for which you had the design But their widespread use you could not see as there simply was no time For during a battle, as you made the phone set run A bullet took your grace away, a scientist dying young
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Oct 17, 2012
Oct 17, 2012 at 4:21 PM UTC
To A Scientist Dying Young - an ode to Henry Moseley
A man and wife go to lunch. Premium burgers, shakes and fries. It's cheap and he can wear his sweatpants. For every one couple, there's twenty single fathers with his children. (a depressing ratio) It must be custody weekend. At the Heartbreak Hotel tables for two occupy singles. The men picked out their best shirts and the women painted their lips. Looking only for a conversation, they leave with a bill priced with another Sunday of shattered hope.
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Apr 17, 2016
Apr 17, 2016 at 12:05 AM UTC
Romance Is Dead (pt 1)
It ain’t too bad to be from there Just ask my family and friends But it’s too flat, ain’t no way out The roads are all dead ends. Sometime soon I’ll find a place Where the music I’ll enjoy But for now I keep on tryin’ To escape from Illinois! There’s a river on the border west That moves a lot of dirt Mighty Muddy Mississipp Drowns the pain and covers hurt Yeah, I’m movin’ south to New Orleans Maybe I can find employ In a blues bar down on Bourbon Street Escape from Illinois! Well I stopped a week along the way When I saw the Gateway Arch. But the folks out by the airport Were stagin’ up a march. Seems a white cop fired a shot that killed An unarmed teenage boy Oh yeah, the teenage boy was black, Escape from Illinois. Kept walkin’ to the Landing (Named for Pierre Laclede) It has most every thing you want But nothing that you need Some travelin’ folk told me some news That made me jump for joy Memphis maybe had some work Escape from Illinois! Found the haunted house called Graceland And the grave where Elvis lay Where half a million go each year (Fifteen thousand every day) They all want to pay respects To the rockin’ – rollin’ boy Put their finger in the bullet holes Escape from Illinois. Went downtown, knocked on some doors Once or twice I went inside But Beale Street was broken The travelin’ folks had lied. ‘Cuz there ain’t no jobs in Memphis, Or maybe I’m too coy So I hitched a ride to Nashville Escape from Illinois. Nashville’s a big old meltin’ *** Lots of great ones started here But most end up as tourists Getting’ ****** and drinkin’ beer So money’s at a premium And fame’s a fake decoy End up workin’ in a record store Escape from Illinois? From Asheville to Atlanta From Austin to LA From Biloxi back to Baton Rouge Need a place where I can play I’ll follow all the buskers, Form a musical convoy Livin’ day by day and town by town Escape from Illinois! I’m a minstrel, like a rubber band I keep on snappin’ back I’m gonna make it somewhere Singing somewhere, that’s a fact Got my guitar and my music Gotta do what I enjoy Find a place to sing my songs for you, Hell, it may be Illinois! Phil Lindsey  6/4/15
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Jun 4, 2015
Jun 4, 2015 at 1:46 PM UTC
Escape From Illinois
It ain’t too bad to be from there Just ask my family and friends But it’s too flat, ain’t no way out The roads are all dead ends. Sometime soon I’ll find a place Where the music I’ll enjoy But for now I keep on tryin’ To escape from Illinois! There’s a river on the border west That moves a lot of dirt Mighty Muddy Mississipp Drowns the pain and covers hurt Yeah, I’m movin’ south to New Orleans Maybe I can find employ In a blues bar down on Bourbon Street Escape from Illinois! Well I stopped a week along the way When I saw the Gateway Arch. But the folks out by the airport Were stagin’ up a march. Seems a white cop fired a shot that killed An unarmed teenage boy Oh yeah, the teenage boy was black, Escape from Illinois. Kept walkin’ to the Landing (Named for Pierre Laclede) It has most every thing you want But nothing that you need Some travelin’ folk told me some news That made me jump for joy Memphis maybe had some work Escape from Illinois! Found the haunted house called Graceland And the grave where Elvis lay Where half a million go each year (Fifteen thousand every day) They all want to pay respects To the rockin’ – rollin’ boy Put their finger in the bullet holes Escape from Illinois. Went downtown, knocked on some doors Once or twice I went inside But Beale Street was broken The travelin’ folks had lied. ‘Cuz there ain’t no jobs in Memphis, Or maybe I’m too coy So I hitched a ride to Nashville Escape from Illinois. Nashville’s a big old meltin’ *** Lots of great ones started here But most end up as tourists Getting’ ****** and drinkin’ beer So money’s at a premium And fame’s a fake decoy End up workin’ in a record store Escape from Illinois? From Asheville to Atlanta From Austin to LA From Biloxi back to Baton Rouge Need a place where I can play I’ll follow all the buskers, Form a musical convoy Livin’ day by day and town by town Escape from Illinois! I’m a minstrel, like a rubber band I keep on snappin’ back I’m gonna make it somewhere Singing somewhere, that’s a fact Got my guitar and my music Gotta do what I enjoy Find a place to sing my songs for you, Hell, it may be Illinois! Phil Lindsey  6/4/15
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Padal jsem podzemní přírodou do mrznoucích niter kde nikdo nebyl, alejí rtuťových výbojek spěchal jsem naproti černému nebi. "Zvířata zalezla dovnitř a zvířata vylezla ven, vsaje krev kámen dřív než nůžky ohlásí den?" Spěchal jsem podzimní přírodou do města mlh kde nikdo z vás nebyl, zástupy jiter řinčely po osmé a po sté se skrývaly hřeby. "Mumie zalezlá uvnitř, mumie žene mě ven, pomalí ptáci na kostkách a mezitím tuhnoucí krém." Hledal jsem pobřežní cestu v inverzi jitra kde jako bych nebyl, s duší a bez duše křižoval město zdarma jak úplný debil.
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Jul 28, 2017
Jul 28, 2017 at 9:17 PM UTC
Premium Rush
( or also entitled : Just How Much ******** Are You Prepared to Believe) Confidence - grandiosity Hope - Delusion Ambition - grandiosity + delusion Love - Co-dependency Unrequited Love & romantic hopes - Erotomania Sexuality - Hypersexuality Happiness - Manic mood Sadness - Depression Shock - Post Traumatic Stress Disorder Emotional - Bipolar Fear - Paranoia/psychosis Distrust - Suspicion ( e.g paranoia) Loneliness - Neediness Needing connection to others - Co-dependant Existential doubts - suicidal Spiritual awakening - psychosis Sarcasm - Aggression Loner - socially-withdrawn Messy - self-neglectful Angry - dangerous/violent Faith - dangerous Religisiosity dubious combination of some of the above : Schizophrenia Note : All of these need drugs to 'cure' them so the drugs companies can make a fortune & pay you a premium. Where did you think the money for your salary came from?
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Jul 7, 2015
Jul 7, 2015 at 10:38 AM UTC
The Psychiatrist's/ Consultant Doctors Dictionary
While I return and slow down to the classics; the film analog cameras, vinyl records, typewriters, silent movies, worn-out pocketbooks, and other novelties of the old world charm... I also enjoy the convenience of the contemporary; my phone's one-click camera, spotify premium, notes app, netflix, kindle, and other niceties that the here and now has to offer... And while I rev back to the retro and vintage, I also race forward to the excitement and danger brought about by the internet, of chatting with a familiar stranger. of exchanging laughters in electronic. of feeling emotions from a vague, distant, technical, difficult source. Oh, the thrill and tragedy of technology!
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May 7, 2022
May 7, 2022 at 8:22 AM UTC
Technical Difficulties
1237 My Heart ran so to thee It would not wait for me And I affronted grew And drew away For whatsoe’er my pace He first achieve they Face How general a Grace Allotted two— Not in malignity Mentioned I this to thee— Had he obliquity Soonest to share But for the Greed of him— Boasting my Premium— Basking in Bethleem Ere I be there—
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2.1k
My Heart ran so to thee
causing those problems that are only self involving involvement in your own resolve is in no way evolving evolution has it's own way of science problem solving solutions are few when new old thoughts keep revolving revolution is measured by a once around spinning spin the bottle, kiss your mom, no earth inverts are winning winners only win when herds of losers start thinning thin air will carry angry ghosts back to the beginning begin again to reach the end as the world keeps turning turn the page you always turn when the book starts burning burn it all down just as long as it ain't self concerning concern yourself with you and be the last man left yearning
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Sep 27, 2021
Sep 27, 2021 at 8:56 PM UTC
Last Man Left Yearning - Quantum Loop Poem - The most premium poetry form
Arms stretched rapidly grabbing Air too fill my airless Lungs I grab for what was plenty But know like everything "Now brought" Breath now painful Fresh air brought Premium Breathable Black-market Never pure, additives added So tastes just right, A mixture of many That with first breath Addictive Substance, Abuse, Of what everyone needs, Like liquid you swallow it "Filling lungs" Like the golden nectar of breath Every breath could be there last, But what can be done when we need Each breath to continue life, Bodies litter the floors though's not afforded The luxury of breathing, Breath air polluted by generations past, Now for every breath taken, Will a new born breath or will like those Others, exhale their last breath when So needing that need for life and breath .
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Oct 22, 2014
Oct 22, 2014 at 10:34 AM UTC
Tainted Breath
Sometime before dawn You curls in my dreams And got me smiling Like a promenading butterfly Who aback;sights a garden phlox I whirl enchanting on my cot Until I hear the **** crow And plug the melodrama Though I wish relentless I wing my arms like a baby Thinking about you I don't know how you do that Or does it But it seems you're an adept Or probably a witch To have cast such a spell on me Ton!Ton! I picks my cellphone And reads your messages Thought as much,is her;the witch Who incessantly sparks my match-sticks And brighten my day But am cowed,and wholly gobbled Whenever I reminiscence about the oratories "Nothing lasts forever" So now tell me! Your days and times The protractions of your sojourn And let me know"Witch Though I'm hog-tied for your premium I'm hog-tied for your rob too Infatuated by a witch ©Historian E.Lexano
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Apr 21, 2015
Apr 21, 2015 at 6:02 AM UTC
Infatuated by a witch
O Debussy, I run home from the bar to hear the sssssound of those sssssyllables inciting the ripplesssss of fingersssss that will ssssshudder my sssssheltered sssssoul. Your soul too beautiful to write but a ********* I must try... BRUCE LIKES TO **** SO YOU SHOULD BUY HIS BOOK. AUDIBLE, AN AMAZON COMPANY. indecipherable terms and conditions **SHUT THE **** UP SPOTIFY.** I'M TRYING TO WRITE. Ahh. That's better. O Debussy, your accents strike me like the moon, Clair De Lune. Shine your genius upon me and light my way forward through the next bus ride. I will imagine the silver grass pastures that inspired you, through the ***** window that inspires me, with buildings. more buildings. still more buildings. Wow. These cheap headphones really corrupt Reverie... you must have sounded awesome live, at the piano, by your side.... AT SQUARE SPACE WE BELIEVE IN THE CREATIVE ABILITY OF THE INDIVIDUAL... Then **SHUT THE **** UP** and let me write. O Debussy, your chords set free souls  — caged birds that **** less. Well souls don't **** at all, but that isn't the point. But seriously you... HELLO SPOTIFY USER. WE HOPE WE ARE ANNOYING THE **** OUT OF YOU AND THAT YOUR  DAY IS AWESOME. GO PREMIUM. :) I give up. Debussy, you're great. I ****
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Aug 22, 2014
Aug 22, 2014 at 3:06 AM UTC
Debussy inspires the frustrated writer.
343 My Reward for Being, was This. My premium—My Bliss— An Admiralty, less— A Sceptre—penniless— And Realms—just Dross— When Thrones accost my Hands— With “Me, Miss, Me”— I’ll unroll Thee— Dominions dowerless—beside this Grace— Election—Vote— The Ballots of Eternity, will show just that.
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1.4k
My Reward for Being, was This