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"rescinding" poems
I saw the sun steep into the seascape ― lonely as a drowning     wave          on still-waters the dimming of the day rescinding evanescent daylight                                                                  . fading with the slack tide          lost at sea ― a gloaming moment          let fall from the remains of the day, like some other passing sea bird's molted feather drifts away untamed I sit silent as the driftwood lingering at the watermark, watching a random gust     erase the footprints of another recurring day,  bearing abandoned memories     and vacant heartbeats, atrophied in the drifting sands     and I see you walking     towards the abating       midnight sunset ―          but I know     you're just a mirage;     like the dimming afterglow of so many waning moons             elapsed           ever-changing tides grow low   and promises made lightly            do ebb away            Scanning the distant horizon ―         a blindfold heart         mooning all at sea; parsing a deserted shoreline,     wondering if love           is too late ,..     to stem the tide ―         harlon rivers       30   May   2018
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Jun 5, 2018
Jun 5, 2018 at 12:59 PM UTC
Towards the waning midnight sunset
rescinding messages of longing and lust cast off to the wind like a broken record skittering, twisting down the street in early morn' your laying to rest your tired conscience on me like one of those lovers in a movie theater brushed off like salt on a shoulder twirled like a young girls hair mid flirtation giggle i think we're dancing in the streets now scuffing shoes against concrete mind-melding as we soft shoe across the yellow lines i'm kicking you to the curb like a rock into a gutter your blowing through me like a chilled breeze shuffling past me hurriedly to another time like a scarf mid swing o're a cold shoulder i turn 'round swiftly to meet you dizzily.
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Oct 20, 2010
Oct 20, 2010 at 6:09 PM UTC
street dancing
Talk of a flood rises to the top, and then stops, rescinding gently, too much ceased with ease, as thinking on the sight of those heights.
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Feb 7, 2016
Feb 7, 2016 at 6:24 AM UTC
Heights
Dressed in white on a bitter cold path, Ain't any sign of life and with gloom around, Bitten by frost and deadly winter not rescinding, Suddenly a feeble chirp giving a hope of survival, Oh My! The prettiest flower ever seen with a divine fragrance! The first blossom of Spring filled with Love, You, my La Belle Dame, colored me up & showered happiness. You are the Love of my Life! Time flew by as seconds but every moment worth rewinding, Lost in dreams as your words sounded like a lullaby, As you stared compassionately as my eyes opened, And when you feebly uttered the magical words, "I Love You!" Spellbound. So beautiful life was, so content and so happy, Colorful tulips all around and the refreshing daffodils, Bound for life with trust and confidence and vows. You, my beautiful lady, asked "Casato Conmigo?". "Claro!" it is. Something was not right, still a dream? No. Wait! A deadly storm was creeping by without a noise, Darkness fell upon your mind and the tremors began, The flowers withered and were blown away, I'd not clue. You felt, you wept and you pushed me away, Neck deep in love and the most painful words I heard, "I Never Loved you! Just a rebound." Broken. Left out alone in endless pain, The sight and voice of you everywhere , Starved with sleepless thoughts for days, A life without a dream and a smile. You, my La Belle Dame San Merci, showered me Love and blew me apart. @gsnsriram
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Apr 2, 2015
Apr 2, 2015 at 2:27 AM UTC
La Belle Dame Sans Merci (2015)
"Someday death will take us to another star."                  ~~Vincent Van Gogh Painter paint star-spattered-pathways--purple passion patterns; Grant me glimpses of immortality in indigo inspirations, Guide me through galaxies glued inside translucent eyelids With pulsating ivory globes. Ascending into your astral aspirations, Fractured atoms crumble into cerulean strings-- Unimpeded by crawling speed of light, Suspended, momentarily held by moon's golden blood. Hurtling throughout cobalt cosmic chaos, Catapulted into vermillion vortex, Realms rescinding into realms, Macrocosms into macrocosms--malleable meldings. Absorbing ancient ancestral dust, Ten times ten thousand particles emblazened; Universal union--super-nova soul's rebirth..... Adrift within a Van Gogh sky.
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Jun 24, 2014
Jun 24, 2014 at 10:44 AM UTC
I N F I N I T Y
Just one more time come around sun and bring the warm easy like you always do, your rescinding shine has in it all of you; being the days you were.
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Sep 23, 2021
Sep 23, 2021 at 11:25 AM UTC
Meld
Dear, During our distressful dispersal, Due to dismal dismissal on my defense, Your dreary demeanour is decidedly Distressful. Earnestly, I evince my emotions, expressing every Effort to ebulliate my everything, But ephemeral expulsion excommunicates me Exceptionally. Apathetic, You arrive, always akin to antipathy, Although any alacrity you attempt Assiduously alleviates my alerting Affliction. Reconsider This rejection, revile in my respect, Rescinding no recompense for this respelendance. Rejuvenate while I receive the rigour and Reward, Dear
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Jul 30, 2012
Jul 30, 2012 at 9:56 PM UTC
Dear
The automaton Encrypting a nation Heaven Hell Gods And devils A bio-mechanical equation Living in circuits Under pavement Enslavement In eternity We Are the angels The demons The adamant The legion Cursing from bended knee In the triviality Of truth Are we Not to be Anything But seen Between the seams Of perceived reality Feeding Off children's dreams Breeding the themes Into memes And scattering the practicality Amongst The capacitors Magnifying our hurt Synthesizing The whispers Into blurts For the world to hear Not my words My word Wordless in itself Silent as the film Serenading The filth With the music of my youth Leaking doubt from the roof Rerouting the abuse Rescinding the ruse And rebooting With the other 7 billion fools Aloof As toothless mutes Sparking mutiny Amongst troops Pursued by armadas Of savage sonatas Of cleaners Meaning to demean us In the cleavers That be-heave us Or our humanity Self created In the slated Boxes to think in To tinker Is sin Repeat and again Condemn The denser To death In breathless Conviction To the addiction Onset In step To rest My head On the ******* Of your disbelief I'm still asleep Counting the sheep Counting the creeps My sub routines Obsolete In a sea of snakes
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Dec 9, 2012
Dec 9, 2012 at 2:34 PM UTC
Half Asleep
At times it is hard to sail on when the sirens sing songs to me and the depths of the dark blue sea call out to me. In the fearing there is wonder and I wonder how come? where was it written in the heat of the Sun that my Kingdom will come in the fathomless deep? Would I sleep my eternity in this, the fraternity of pirates and slaves whatever happened to Jesus saves? The sirens sing sweet things that bring me to endings and the doldrums are here pending a sharp wind and rescinding previous posts I host one more party to start me on my way to slip into and down through the beckoning spray and when the waters close over and cover will I then live to discover a meaning to all this will the bliss that I have in mind be the bliss I will find or will I disperse in the teasing of tides that would ride out my bones across waves into more temperate zones. The sirens fall silent and the night starts to sing I bring up my collar and call to the Moon, so soon so soon and the sky goes to sleep in the deep someone's calling and I have to stop falling I keep my mind still and in the stillness I will find my bearings and compass point and that is the point to read the map to find a route to sail one's ship to not let go to not let slip. I should rip apart this sadness,madness but what else would I be could it be this is the one and only long and lonely trip we all must take? before I break apart I will start to stop again pick up the pieces that lie in pain and hoist the sails put up the mast and hide from the rains and in the distance in darkness the sirens begin.
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Jun 17, 2013
Jun 17, 2013 at 3:06 AM UTC
Embarkation code
At times it is hard to sail on when the sirens sing songs to me and the depths of the dark blue sea call out to me. In the fearing there is wonder and I wonder how come? where was it written in the heat of the Sun that my Kingdom will come in the fathomless deep? Would I sleep my eternity in this, the fraternity of pirates and slaves whatever happened to Jesus saves? The sirens sing sweet things that bring me to endings and the doldrums are here pending a sharp wind and rescinding previous posts I host one more party to start me on my way to slip into and down through the beckoning spray and when the waters close over and cover will I then live to discover a meaning to all this will the bliss that I have in mind be the bliss I will find or will I disperse in the teasing of tides that would ride out my bones across waves into more temperate zones. The sirens fall silent and the night starts to sing I bring up my collar and call to the Moon, so soon so soon and the sky goes to sleep in the deep someone's calling and I have to stop falling I keep my mind still and in the stillness I will find my bearings and compass point and that is the point to read the map to find a route to sail one's ship to not let go to not let slip. I should rip apart this sadness,madness but what else would I be could it be this is the one and only long and lonely trip we all must take? before I break apart I will start to stop again pick up the pieces that lie in pain and hoist the sails put up the mast and hide from the rains and in the distance in darkness the sirens begin.
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Everlasting light Sure the sunrise was beautiful but what is beauty if it cannot be shared? Rescinding fright The mobbing mass bowed down and to whom do you pledge allegiance? Freckled henpecked nest-eggs to the shrinking violet water chestnut teenage idol and therein did we all see the frightened eyes with secret stories to share An instruction guide to the misinformed soul of how to lower your false flags to half mast Cover-up sweetheart, the eve is a cold and lonely one Eternal night A perpetuation of political ideology what due course is this, that your people are slayed in the street?
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Aug 14, 2015
Aug 14, 2015 at 12:51 PM UTC
Okay But Did You Hear the One About...
More of a man at 20 than at 22 All of the passages about One, there were no others Regressing into sin, no art without misery That old cliche, right? Right. I read somewhere that he wanted to be a writer He wanted to be a great writer, Remembered Taking, making great sacrifices for art Alcohol, Benzedrine, Isolation Checkmate, One and Two and Three The night (this night) will be my Desolation Peak For now, Looking back through the pages Who exists in this manuscript? Who is Marg? Who is Sil? Won’t you please tell me? Won’t you come fill my Head. I’m not asking Won’t you come fill my bed? So I need not pretend Were it that I could let you in Save for those rare times when everyone appears not unctuous To my uneasy usurious eyes In an act of desperate atavism I return to the roots, To the past, to the Grass, (Looking) To the glass Only momentarily half empty Before it is refilled Where will we find our answers honey? When will we cease to believe this positive psychology ******** You don’t need to be happy You don’t need to be comfortable You need to Mean to have Meaning to create a legacy Not shrouded in shame and neglect and fear It doesn’t have to be the same New city, new hope, new name Erase the stain with pen and paper Evoke change See the world through baby blue eyes The bucolic beauty brilliantly beats and beads down, blooming Bright flowers in early mildew sunlight Or Big Sur - view from the mountains Or the moon Soon my love, soon Swoon, sweetly suggest The sight of a lover’s supple ******* And her name like poetry on your soft still whispering lips Tantalizing and tickling tongues Tickling and tucking shyly Soft skin swimming in hushed tones, brushed bones and quiet sighs Wide eyed, clenching belies The beginning and the end of far more
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Jul 29, 2014
Jul 29, 2014 at 9:39 PM UTC
Regression Rescinding
More of a man at 20 than at 22 All of the passages about One, there were no others Regressing into sin, no art without misery That old cliche, right? Right. I read somewhere that he wanted to be a writer He wanted to be a great writer, Remembered Taking, making great sacrifices for art Alcohol, Benzedrine, Isolation Checkmate, One and Two and Three The night (this night) will be my Desolation Peak For now, Looking back through the pages Who exists in this manuscript? Who is Marg? Who is Sil? Won’t you please tell me? Won’t you come fill my Head. I’m not asking Won’t you come fill my bed? So I need not pretend Were it that I could let you in Save for those rare times when everyone appears not unctuous To my uneasy usurious eyes In an act of desperate atavism I return to the roots, To the past, to the Grass, (Looking) To the glass Only momentarily half empty Before it is refilled Where will we find our answers honey? When will we cease to believe this positive psychology ******** You don’t need to be happy You don’t need to be comfortable You need to Mean to have Meaning to create a legacy Not shrouded in shame and neglect and fear It doesn’t have to be the same New city, new hope, new name Erase the stain with pen and paper Evoke change See the world through baby blue eyes The bucolic beauty brilliantly beats and beads down, blooming Bright flowers in early mildew sunlight Or Big Sur - view from the mountains Or the moon Soon my love, soon Swoon, sweetly suggest The sight of a lover’s supple ******* And her name like poetry on your soft still whispering lips Tantalizing and tickling tongues Tickling and tucking shyly Soft skin swimming in hushed tones, brushed bones and quiet sighs Wide eyed, clenching belies The beginning and the end of far more
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I get high off watching the sun rise, it reminds me that I'm still alive, waiting at dawn to stake my claim in today. I am the mainstay of constancy, of evolution, the leopard lurking in darkness, pawing stealthily past moonlight. My strength magnified in magnolias, my ability to break open in silence, my willing fragility exempts me from the need to fall to pieces. I cuddle up to the command of now, wrapping it around my will like I wrap my tongue around the notes of its song, like silks looping around my present, to my world, my fullest attentions, my richest intention, my ultimate salvation. My lineage sings survival of the fittest. Our rigorous love of self, of others, is the ticket, the tributaries to the endless river within us, bridged by the calls of cardinals, flitting from pine to sky, rescinding all the litter of Earth's surface to drift off into varying existences.. I am awake.
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Apr 17, 2016
Apr 17, 2016 at 12:50 AM UTC
Tributaries
I die … without a fight … yet not conceding But gently, as the world around me ages Rescinding gift of health, each sense receding As life escapes me, in retreating stages Perhaps beyond this chapter lies conclusion Or if another chapter, maybe better Yet maybe, this is but a Grand Illusion If so, I’m glad we were deceived together When I am gone I hope you will remember That life became us and our time on earth I know that I will keep one thought forever That you … became the measure ... of my worth
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May 12, 2017
May 12, 2017 at 5:16 PM UTC
Life’s Measure
wake me shake me out of this febrile trance furtively pilfering my heart's ancient treasure once guarded by comforting spirits of warm hopes and beliefs held beyond reason never questioned by the minds tribunal the jurors seated in the cranial court knowing eyes silenced by misguided faith's rhetoric never minding the persuasive muzzle often ignoring serpent's retractable tongue always turning from the dark corridors light banished by modern-day pharisees cloaked in mantles of treason patronizingly diluting what can only remain pure painted with pious platitudes away far away i must sail from this folly an orphan of mystical doubt the frost and cold tempest I feel cautious sensibilities a tenuous guide through these gray realms I traverse trembling hands grasp transient hopes striving to shape deeper meaning disciplining lazy traditional beliefs that hang on like phosphorescent spiders in the dusty lofty rafters of memory deceptive iconic silhouettes faded de-spiritualized superimposed on a human-made landscape a beautiful picture gold frame and all! absence of religious pop-culture faith eclipses peace i shudder at the prospect of this purge preparing for burial what must die the end of an age burned in effigy a raging wilderness I now pass through I stumble by many a familiar and unfamiliar fane longing to be clothed with a mantle of peace a vulnerable yet strong spirit I guard let not trivialised faith be my misleading guide and if it is all meaningless alas! it may be still I must forge ahead to the sea ever mindful that rivers return to where they have been separated at birth i often hear roaring waves crashing and gentler waves lapping on shore but a body of water is not always the Sea.
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Aug 27, 2024
Aug 27, 2024 at 12:08 PM UTC
rescinding
wake me shake me out of this febrile trance furtively pilfering my heart's ancient treasure once guarded by comforting spirits of warm hopes and beliefs held beyond reason never questioned by the minds tribunal the jurors seated in the cranial court knowing eyes silenced by misguided faith's rhetoric never minding the persuasive muzzle often ignoring serpent's retractable tongue always turning from the dark corridors light banished by modern-day pharisees cloaked in mantles of treason patronizingly diluting what can only remain pure painted with pious platitudes away far away i must sail from this folly an orphan of mystical doubt the frost and cold tempest I feel cautious sensibilities a tenuous guide through these gray realms I traverse trembling hands grasp transient hopes striving to shape deeper meaning disciplining lazy traditional beliefs that hang on like phosphorescent spiders in the dusty lofty rafters of memory deceptive iconic silhouettes faded de-spiritualized superimposed on a human-made landscape a beautiful picture gold frame and all! absence of religious pop-culture faith eclipses peace i shudder at the prospect of this purge preparing for burial what must die the end of an age burned in effigy a raging wilderness I now pass through I stumble by many a familiar and unfamiliar fane longing to be clothed with a mantle of peace a vulnerable yet strong spirit I guard let not trivialised faith be my misleading guide and if it is all meaningless alas! it may be still I must forge ahead to the sea ever mindful that rivers return to where they have been separated at birth i often hear roaring waves crashing and gentler waves lapping on shore but a body of water is not always the Sea.
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88
The derision of the derided of the dedicated to the storm The fire and the ice and the love and the rights and people of the demise of the dear and the redeemable Medication and rumination sounds rather medical can you take through the bridge and preamble Without the rhyme and pressing matters of the youthful climb This is just a success ladder and a rare woman Lugging a leather bag, pursed lips ready for sudden panging hunger Like a feather fad endemic and indolent in nature, the droll ******* You telling me I'm alacrity and criminal in the numinous nimble loss for words, the fake feeling Bewwushteinshlage tell me I'm not rising with the tide, the dyer maker Hot dripping and filling and dryer head full of hairy dreams The seeds and searching for the demise of the promising song And the fresh feed of afraid and fearful peaceful people in this clouded age and premise obsessed by flippant speech Of hungry people acting so foolishly and speaking through their teeth for the representatives of the burning heart of education Good glaciers are this a revelation and puerile pride and repeat the same behavior if it's so lyrical Can I tell my sorrows, and the thorough and boughs rescinding of the glances Advancements come and go, the gut feeling is good to row The feeling of building and the bullish ****** find of joking kindred spirits Drilling pleasantries into ole' midterm me losing my feet and losing my need for finishing school From the rise of the morning, the time is frolicking and not easy Someone's running from the hopeful and the ****** and the futon for the shrink's naysay Daydream and rolling dear ad veritas in this vine of dwindling nations, just a glass domino Words falling like a little limerick and it hurts just distress others Taking sister act and the distance doesn't matter to someone obsequious and robed We are stunned by your logic and your jokes, but, you need to shut the **** up Finally, awaken the human up and stare at the cellar and have a drink Before the new fire sails through your life instead of the old flame you remember
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Jul 21, 2019
Jul 21, 2019 at 1:08 PM UTC
Looking At Education Through A Glass
The derision of the derided of the dedicated to the storm The fire and the ice and the love and the rights and people of the demise of the dear and the redeemable Medication and rumination sounds rather medical can you take through the bridge and preamble Without the rhyme and pressing matters of the youthful climb This is just a success ladder and a rare woman Lugging a leather bag, pursed lips ready for sudden panging hunger Like a feather fad endemic and indolent in nature, the droll ******* You telling me I'm alacrity and criminal in the numinous nimble loss for words, the fake feeling Bewwushteinshlage tell me I'm not rising with the tide, the dyer maker Hot dripping and filling and dryer head full of hairy dreams The seeds and searching for the demise of the promising song And the fresh feed of afraid and fearful peaceful people in this clouded age and premise obsessed by flippant speech Of hungry people acting so foolishly and speaking through their teeth for the representatives of the burning heart of education Good glaciers are this a revelation and puerile pride and repeat the same behavior if it's so lyrical Can I tell my sorrows, and the thorough and boughs rescinding of the glances Advancements come and go, the gut feeling is good to row The feeling of building and the bullish ****** find of joking kindred spirits Drilling pleasantries into ole' midterm me losing my feet and losing my need for finishing school From the rise of the morning, the time is frolicking and not easy Someone's running from the hopeful and the ****** and the futon for the shrink's naysay Daydream and rolling dear ad veritas in this vine of dwindling nations, just a glass domino Words falling like a little limerick and it hurts just distress others Taking sister act and the distance doesn't matter to someone obsequious and robed We are stunned by your logic and your jokes, but, you need to shut the **** up Finally, awaken the human up and stare at the cellar and have a drink Before the new fire sails through your life instead of the old flame you remember
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26
ok, now I get that it's all Fake News, Like how Bob Mueller got a three-star General on his knees licking boots, And it seems weird Heil Trump's been like a late August 1945 Adolph been losing it, rescinding public apologies again questioning the birthplace of Obama reacting these last two days to all the pressures building **** it, we all know he knew. He is gonna be the end of this drama. **** he tried to persuade Comey to end the investigation into Flynn. I was born at night, just not last night. This is gonna be pretty as when Flynn exited the courthouse and was serenaded with the same song he led at the convention against Hillary!   Lock (him) up!  Lock (him) up!!! I love to see a hypocrite get (his) due!
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Dec 1, 2017
Dec 1, 2017 at 10:36 PM UTC
Get (his) due
Often rather than not We have been resting Shovels patting earth Locking away unspoken deeds For the specks of dirt know Its time to ration air Staving out The most resilient Packaging it away To spot upon whom Would break stone first Rescinding from whence it came Curling back into joints Pasting itself to the keys once more
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Sep 22, 2019
Sep 22, 2019 at 11:25 PM UTC
Allen 2.0
Just one more time come around sun and bring the warm easy like you always do, your rescinding shine has in it all of you; being the days you were.
0
Sep 23, 2018
Sep 23, 2018 at 1:50 PM UTC
Meld
I comport myself with quiet pridefulness, plus intellectual whimsy aware that "FAKE" pretentiousness, could be mistaken foreign egotistical vitae furthering, feathering and figuratively undermining jestingly, poetically, and zealously oozing, gushing, bubbling over with faux snobbish suave re: pulse sieve literary fatuous haughtiness, and ludicrous narcissistic pre ning all the while chuckling to me self, and indifferent if some anonymous browser with Dutchman's breeches rolled up upon cresting wave over Zyder Zee disparages mine harmless badinage, hence if ye might qualify as such nitpicker, who doth cavil - dee crying wading thru quagmire of verbiage, a gentle reply to thee might be more wise to turn energy toward, how in many another country the village people haint so free spouting, sporting, and spoiling, vis a vis intellectual sparring (albeit innocent) black barbs hatch chee ving, and raising urgent attention against he (who **** squelching constitutional rights) re: pressing, rescinding, reviling, et cetera access toward key underpinnings within these fifty constituent United States of America beckon alacrity for obliging citizens across all points of the compass to alee v8 his indiscriminate flee sing, sans bedrock nation could tee tear on the brink of calamity, which political plug quite inadequate to staunch hemorrhaging, viz upending many a sacred liberty, and foo to you reprimanding against any agree gee us objection to pen about polly lee ticks and/or religion!
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Dec 31, 2018
Dec 31, 2018 at 2:45 PM UTC
No Inflated Cheekiness For This Logophile
I comport myself with quiet pridefulness, plus intellectual whimsy aware that "FAKE" pretentiousness, could be mistaken foreign egotistical vitae furthering, feathering and figuratively undermining jestingly, poetically, and zealously oozing, gushing, bubbling over with faux snobbish suave re: pulse sieve literary fatuous haughtiness, and ludicrous narcissistic pre ning all the while chuckling to me self, and indifferent if some anonymous browser with Dutchman's breeches rolled up upon cresting wave over Zyder Zee disparages mine harmless badinage, hence if ye might qualify as such nitpicker, who doth cavil - dee crying wading thru quagmire of verbiage, a gentle reply to thee might be more wise to turn energy toward, how in many another country the village people haint so free spouting, sporting, and spoiling, vis a vis intellectual sparring (albeit innocent) black barbs hatch chee ving, and raising urgent attention against he (who **** squelching constitutional rights) re: pressing, rescinding, reviling, et cetera access toward key underpinnings within these fifty constituent United States of America beckon alacrity for obliging citizens across all points of the compass to alee v8 his indiscriminate flee sing, sans bedrock nation could tee tear on the brink of calamity, which political plug quite inadequate to staunch hemorrhaging, viz upending many a sacred liberty, and foo to you reprimanding against any agree gee us objection to pen about polly lee ticks and/or religion!
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