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"ries" poems
Speaking of broken hearts and mended fenced in mem'ries   I am painting skies of tangerine, saffron & an illuminated lilac hue against the starkly contrasted crisp cornflower blue, stretching canvas that is along with all the other blindingly beautiful colors of a twilight sky And those dripping cotton candy stratospheric clouds Ice crystals freezing into supercooled water droplets Streaking the sky in cirrus whispers ..I hear them whisper, "hello"... Blinding beauty through unadulterated sunlight I am fleeced like a lamb watching in awe, ..in wonder then stomping sounds of coming thunder, Finding depth and height out  in the stratosphere Blinded by the After Light or afterglow affected by the amount of haze I'm in a daze ...as I am reaching High above the fading light of a brilliant early fall sunset I take a big breath of that sumptuous air and twirl my skirted legs my painted toes where I know I am back to solid ground Appreciating the last time I say sleep well to you  my dear summertimes sweet mem'ries and the fun we had this year. Cherie Nolan © 2016
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Sep 1, 2016
Sep 1, 2016 at 2:39 PM UTC
"After Light"
It was golden and splendid, That City of light; A vision suspended In deeps of the night; A region of wonder and glory, whose temples were marble and white. I remember the season It dawn'd on my gaze; The mad time of unreason, The brain-numbing days When Winter, white-sheeted and ghastly, stalks onward to torture and craze. More lovely than Zion It shone in the sky When the beams of Orion Beclouded my eye, Bringing sleep that was filled with dim mem'ries of moments obscure and gone by. Its mansions were stately, With carvings made fair, Each rising sedately On terraces rare, And the gardens were fragrant and bright with strange miracles blossoming there. The avenues lur'd me With vistas sublime; Tall arches assur'd me That once on a time I had wander'd in rapture beneath them, and bask'd in the Halcyon clime. On the plazas were standing A sculptur'd array; Long bearded, commanding, rave men in their day— But one stood dismantled and broken, its bearded face battered away. In that city effulgent No mortal I saw, But my fancy, indulgent To memory's law, Linger'd long on the forms in the plazas, and eyed their stone features with awe. I fann'd the faint ember That glow'd in my mind, And strove to remember The aeons behind; &
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The City
Tentpole, stature tall and strong and Firmly placed between the thin sheets Members of the boy scouts, boy clan Flames extinguished, his body heats At dawn it rises, makes me wake ******* for the fire he gathers Morning wood, embers of the stakes Soon home; disapproving Fathers Morning **** calls, but we're busy Pack our bags, get all the work done Juice of life makes me quite dizzy Mem'ries of our weekend of fun I'll be dish and spoon to your spoon Spend nights together o'er the moon
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May 5, 2015
May 5, 2015 at 6:47 AM UTC
Camp Boy
The great dictatorship of the futon A hybrid beast not truly made for two Cover play turned treatised malice The brilliance of cold imposed on waking To find no roses just pillows between Lying nestled in inert ecstasy Singing rusty hist'ries, its a sales job For the masses Know that it will return No wit like the brain before sleep sets in No sight like a deaf dreamers providence No solution like the one no one wants To drift away and return on waking The day seems touched to find us divided A restful sleep met with a restless heart
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Nov 11, 2012
Nov 11, 2012 at 8:45 PM UTC
The Great Dictatorship of the Futon
My world is a-spinning, I chase wild deer - For pleasure, not trophies - My conscience is clear. I chase ‘em through forests, Through grasslands and doles. I find giant craters And tiniest holes. My eyes are wide open, I hail all life, Asleep all these years... But now I’m alive! I’m ready to ponder The sense of it all. My mind doesn’t wander - This time, it’s my call. I challenge old habits - Deep-rooted they be - My deer chasing rabbits While rabbits chase me. I’m easily happy, My cry is of bliss, My tongue fires wisdom, My shots never miss. I eagerly travel Through darkness and light - All myst’ries unravelled, My troth here I plight: To battle for freedom, To fight for the poor, To champion peace, To ignore all the lures. I never will falter - My mind is my guard, My faith is my altar, My love is my God. My world is a-spinning, I’m dreaming all day. My vision a-clearing - Ill thoughts fade away. And what of the wild deer? - You might want to ask. Gone home to the Highlands, They’ve finished their task.
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Jun 17, 2012
Jun 17, 2012 at 7:49 AM UTC
Wild Deer
Thoughts of you are killing me I don't know how and why This is just how you affect me And I want this gone Sometimes near Sometimes far You make me confused On what we really are I hate you for being like that Don't know what you did You have left with no goodbyes But still haunting me with your mem'ries
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Nov 25, 2014
Nov 25, 2014 at 12:26 PM UTC
Confused
Take a picture - it'll last longer Someday you'll miss these days, my dear Take a picture - we can frame it To remember it well when mem'ries are sour Maybe someday the thoughts will be fonder Always seem to be when the days last longer But what do I know Take a note down - scribble it out Don't want to forget the words that were said Take a note down - save it for later When new lines are harsh - feel like breaking Use some ink - don't let it fade If it's done well colors will stay the same Don't let it go It hurts to let go - hurts to let go Don't want to forget because It hurts to let go - hurts to let go Please come back Need you right now - need you right now Missing you so Need you right now - need you right now Come home Take a picture - it'll last longer Take a note down - save it for later
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Jul 29, 2014
Jul 29, 2014 at 12:08 AM UTC
Picture
Happy birthday Marian A thousand mem'ries of you blow across my mind tiny miracle of life held close to a mother's heart Today you turned twelve still I see my sweet baby smile into my eyes no flute to give thee harp or cello have I none chilled by poverty hungry mouths to feed our furry little darlings their eyes beseeching if I had more time I would play croquet with you and dress dolls again hear a mother's heartfelt cry baking loaves of bread and rolls planning simple meals May this humble poem a token of my love prove my dearest daughter
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Mar 20, 2013
Mar 20, 2013 at 10:59 PM UTC
Happy Birthday
Cocoon suspended ‘neath a branch, Out of harmer’s range; Churning in tight quarters then, Awaiting for the change. A cast she’d spun with great detail, To blend into the scene; Remain innocuous, choosing plain, To spend such days serene. This sanctuary has terms of time; Yet flippant so, of sight; Blinded by the darkness kept, May only dream of flight. There, outside this nurturing crypt, Lies futures yet untold; Exploring freedom, airless hours, As wings will then unfold. Alterations to her inner form Complete in all detail; While oblivious to worlds unknown-- Mem’ries without a trail. As perforations tear a fold, In which she will embark, To crystal, glowing cast of moon Within this evening, dark; She wrestles to uncurl her girth And wingspan so anew; That seems so awkward, foreign and Has converted different hue. Now perched upon her drying bed, She fans while instincts try To capture sens’ry explosions That lay to foundling’s eyes. Beyond the glen, a spot she sees; A single glowing blur. Just then each tree bends toward one side, As breaths sweep under her. Weightless, floating, movement new, She tests her longer arms, That reach, manipulating wind, Should quivers strike alarm. The lure of the eerie glow, Possess investigation, As closer toward the light she flies, Embraced with consternation. Near collision with the beacon, She’s halted in mid-air; Translucent strings of sticky form, She didn’t see, were there. She wrestles, tries to free herself, While a shadow looming near Smiles with contentment of His cunning craft of snare. Slowly he approaches while She looks to see his eyes, So vacant of emotive flush, With fear she starts to cry. The octo-legged creature then, Inserts his poisoned quill, As venom circulates her life, He waits until she’s still. Then coils her in silky thread, While dancing ‘bout his room. Tho’ this is of his own design, She returns, inside cocoon. As thoughts of life, such brevity, Released of any pain. She closes youthful eyes at last, And dreams of flight again.
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Jul 4, 2010
Jul 4, 2010 at 6:23 AM UTC
Cocoon
Cocoon suspended ‘neath a branch, Out of harmer’s range; Churning in tight quarters then, Awaiting for the change. A cast she’d spun with great detail, To blend into the scene; Remain innocuous, choosing plain, To spend such days serene. This sanctuary has terms of time; Yet flippant so, of sight; Blinded by the darkness kept, May only dream of flight. There, outside this nurturing crypt, Lies futures yet untold; Exploring freedom, airless hours, As wings will then unfold. Alterations to her inner form Complete in all detail; While oblivious to worlds unknown-- Mem’ries without a trail. As perforations tear a fold, In which she will embark, To crystal, glowing cast of moon Within this evening, dark; She wrestles to uncurl her girth And wingspan so anew; That seems so awkward, foreign and Has converted different hue. Now perched upon her drying bed, She fans while instincts try To capture sens’ry explosions That lay to foundling’s eyes. Beyond the glen, a spot she sees; A single glowing blur. Just then each tree bends toward one side, As breaths sweep under her. Weightless, floating, movement new, She tests her longer arms, That reach, manipulating wind, Should quivers strike alarm. The lure of the eerie glow, Possess investigation, As closer toward the light she flies, Embraced with consternation. Near collision with the beacon, She’s halted in mid-air; Translucent strings of sticky form, She didn’t see, were there. She wrestles, tries to free herself, While a shadow looming near Smiles with contentment of His cunning craft of snare. Slowly he approaches while She looks to see his eyes, So vacant of emotive flush, With fear she starts to cry. The octo-legged creature then, Inserts his poisoned quill, As venom circulates her life, He waits until she’s still. Then coils her in silky thread, While dancing ‘bout his room. Tho’ this is of his own design, She returns, inside cocoon. As thoughts of life, such brevity, Released of any pain. She closes youthful eyes at last, And dreams of flight again.
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Head in the mountains Heart in the seas Feet in the rivers, in bays, in streams Head in the logic Heart in the dreams Hands in the tension sew stitches and seams Head in the skies Heart in the breeze Eyes in the stars chart new galaxies Head in the wild Heart in the free You in my want, but not in my need.    Head in the clouds Heart in the trees Hair in the wind, like grasses and greens Head in the known Heart in myst'ries Wishes in whispers waiting on maybes. Head in the wander Heart in the journey Faith in the Author of my living story Head in the mountains Heart in the sea Yet, Soul in the prayer of you finding me. |b.g.|
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Jun 17, 2017
Jun 17, 2017 at 4:51 PM UTC
Mountains & Seas
How is it that all I see and believe isn't more than what one can conceive? Trapped inside these bound'ries of mine, flipping and flopping down the stream of time, my thoughts not more than the glint of sunshine. So I laugh! I laugh! Great boisterous humor! To laugh and to giggle at the falseness and rumors; to snicker and snacker  at the play of all forms; to chortle and chuckle at deviations and norms; I will laugh at the process as my soul transforms. So I laugh! I laugh! Though pains may embitter! To laugh and to giggle at all senseless chatter; to snicker and snacker at what's caught within; to chortle and chuckle at all that is sin; I will laugh at the moment when nothing begins. So join me, my friend, and forget of your fears! We'll both laugh, together, at the grinding of gears; we'll both giggle, together, at prophets and seers. So join me, my friend, and forget of your aches! Laugh with abandon at this game and its stakes; laugh with abandon as this machinery breaks.
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Apr 1, 2012
Apr 1, 2012 at 5:13 PM UTC
To Laugh
I know where I came from, long ago, It is a land where bare feet dance, stepping to and fro. Where drumbeats and heartbeats become one, And at night, the sea dances on the long horizon. My land has felt the grim bite of war, And now the place where I grew up is my home no more. I hear the cries and screams of my kind, Forever branded as the one that left them behind. I fled across the seas for safety, But a place that wards off mem'ries I have yet to see. And here no one will offer a hand, This land only knows grey concrete, I wish for white sand. And I remember what it is to embrace the sun. My skin is now dull, a tired grey, Mirrors watch as the light in my eyes now fades away. They are still fighting, though I'm not there, Though the seams of my country are beginning to tear. I still remember where I come from, But I fear- should I return- that home will be long gone.
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Aug 11, 2015
Aug 11, 2015 at 4:29 PM UTC
War Torn
*Some of my best friends are The tiny grey cells in my head For, without these tireless givers I should sorely want*..... For I've had..... The power to recognise the nurturer Who saved me countless times Who sewed my confidence at valedictory Gratitude to Mother...granting me first wings. The help of a few friends with proffered lifts Not many, but enough to light the way Takes but one spark to lead the lost Cannot discount the value of true goodwill. The sweet taste of that first, deep love Who showed the path to discovered delights Easy mem'ries...looking back, but ****** ahead Sighs painted on the ceiling in dreamy webs. The awkward trip down that rabbit hole Blue lady hanging pretty in the corner Flies trapped flimsy, on some terylene Many padlocks loom....to get gasping to you! The chance to slough off onerous habits Dive wholehearted into the universe's sea Gaps to kickstart joy and spearhead cheer Mentors pass the torch and believe in me! Yes, some of my best friends are NOT seen Most reliably spun inside this osseous shell They answer things and help me find my truth Thank heavens....selfless amity equals mercy. S T, 29 June
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Jun 29, 2013
Jun 29, 2013 at 10:15 AM UTC
Some of my best friends are.....
Like marionettes, dancing, swirling, jibing moved by strings of their desires. Their bodies set ablaze, by the fiction of their hides. Despairing to escape by any means, keeping their mem'ries in the haze. Aimlessly thrusting til' Tilda tires; swinging, struggling, scathing, like marionettes. And when the zenith is reached, comes a fleeting sense of victory. Their point of contact comes to an end. ***** hollow, and soul still empty. Like marionettes.
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Feb 19, 2024
Feb 19, 2024 at 2:34 AM UTC
Marionette /ˈmerēəˌnet/
Ferris wheeling on a weekend night flying, open minds out of sight. Puff and round, and whistle bombs are throwing back some mem'ries now we're going back to the start. and they're dancing at night time and your taking a bite. now you're seeing the purpose of your life lies and deceptions arise. Now you're showing some love to me and it's making us free see the stars come shining down you see, what you mean to me. Ferris wheeling on a weekend night flying high in an open sky. Ferris wheeling on a weekend night flying high with an open mind.
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Oct 21, 2013
Oct 21, 2013 at 2:00 AM UTC
Ferris wheeling
Sparkling gusts of silver wind drive howling through the vale, the skies are grey and somber and the air grows foul and stale. The barren trees stretch overhead, guarding dark and light against the winter nightmares, and the dangers of the night. The people huddle closely, stoking fires to keep them warm, as the snowflakes fall in silence for a coming winter storm. Thier frozen hands, thier tired eyes remember ice and snow, instead of grass and sunshine when all things start to grow; the laughing steps of children, the hills that called and bade, the dancing windy flowers in a thousand different shades. There in the long cold shadows, a solemn vow is made- that green grass will soon awaken, and offer boughy shade. For winter's time is ending, the sounds of life, more than words; when the piping call of feathers in the branches high were heard. Listen now, sad people; all is not so dark- the summer's breath's returning, in the humble voice of larks. So do not fear the weeks ahead, the long, capricious cold- for we are made a promise, from days long dead and old. Ice will give way to water, and water will give us Spring; Soon, it will be naught but mem'ries as we celebrate new things. So, cheer your hearts, my sisters- soon dark will become light- Our hearts will ease, our peace be real, we will be alright.
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Jan 14, 2014
Jan 14, 2014 at 4:22 PM UTC
The Winter Promise
A passion wrought from lover’s hands aglow To dash on rocks within a blazéd heart. Two lilies twix the shores are wrench’d apart Til winter’s face doth brim the line of snow. And such is us, my dear. My darling beau, Who sleeps on fragile dreams devoid of art: In thought, I catch you veiled across the mart; In likeness of the shadows oft you go. So long as tender mem’ries wither not My hands will not forget the shape of thee. Within my soul, I flutter with an ache From frightful visions that our hope is shot, But Calm doth bathe me in her past’ral sea. Your beauty lifts my spirits when I wake.
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Jul 7, 2012
Jul 7, 2012 at 6:03 PM UTC
Italian Sonnet For My Ex-Wife
Amidst the fallen stone green-grown And through the crumbling arch, The sunken mere of yesteryear Has mirrored this scene in March The sky meeting land in glory grand Sparks fly where heaven meets earth; The sea rolls in from where it’s been And ships rise from their berth The pearl of the moon rises soon Lifted in the bowl of the sky; Its size greater, every crater Gleams brightly, the heavenly eye Forgotten, as a rule, mirrored in the pool The largest moon earth will see The castle yard by cent’ries scarred Lies the only witness to the scene.
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Jan 15, 2014
Jan 15, 2014 at 12:30 PM UTC
Supermoon
Sweet Mother Christmas has fallen asleep, with grandchild in arms, presents all wrapped a 5 a.m. husband floor creaking around. Sleepy eyed husband just Rockwells the scene joy slips in his heart, mem’ries come back, his mind fills with happy, a grin lips his mouth. Dear Mother Christmas is remming her dreams, bereft of alarms, daylight on tap, awaiting the move of the felt advent mouse.
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Dec 26, 2015
Dec 26, 2015 at 1:36 AM UTC
Mother Christmas
Memories ought to come and go Though to fade or to tarry You cannot choose All you wish to hold Will be forcefully taken Those that you bury Will forcefully crawl out of your skin
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Nov 16, 2015
Nov 16, 2015 at 7:59 AM UTC
Mem'ries
al verte parado frente a mi, pense en todas las veces que miraba tu foto & te imaginaba junto a mi. pense en lo pequeño que se ponen tus ojos cuando te ries & en lo amplia que se pone tu sonrisa cuando digo algo que te parece gracioso. pense en lo agradecida que estaba, pues era yo la culpable de que sonrieras tanto. te tuve tan cerca por mucho rato. volvi a tocarte, a abrazarte, a sentirte, a hablarte, a mirarte, a pensarte. hacias de cualquier momento uno util para hablarme. me preguntabas "estas cansada?" & sonreias. puede que me sienta cansada fisicamente, pero jamas me sentire cansada de ver tu sonrisa, ver tus ojos, escuchar tu voz, & escucharte sonreir. tu sonrisa es como la melodia que calma mis pensamientos & me ayuda a sentir viva. tantos dias mirando tu foto imaginandote a mi lado, & hoy por fin te tuve frente a mi sonriente como siempre lo has estado. aprovechabas cada momento para abrazarme & tocarme, observarme & hablarme. me hacias pensar en la vez que me preguntaste si eramos algo mas, que con tanto rato al lado tuyo lo comenze a creer. solo queria mas & mas & mas de ti. no solo te queria para ese rato. te queria para mas. para ese rato, & otro rato, & todos los ratos que puedan ser. sentir tus manos en mi me hizo sentir como pieza de museo. como si tu fueras el escultor que moldeaba la pieza & le daba forma & vida. & yo era la pieza de museo que cobraba vida al ser moldeada & tocada por ti. como si yo fuera esa pieza de museo que te sabes de memoria, te encanta tocar, & siempre esta en tus pensamientos. pense que eras el escultor que vendia taquillas de museo para que todos fueran & puedan admirar tu amada pieza de museo que soy yo. como si yo fuera tu pieza de museo favorita & quisieras que todos lo supieran para que conozcan & esten consientes de tan majestuosa pieza de museo que soy. que solo tuya soy & tuya sere. que no importa cuantos ojos vengan a observarme, sabrias que ninguno podria mirarme de la misma manera en la que lo haces tu. que no importa cuantas manos vengan con la intencion de tocarme, ninguno podria hacerlo pues soy tu pieza favorita & no quisieras que me rompieran, aunque muy en el fondo sabias que una pieza como yo jamas podria romperse, pues estaba echa de un material unico que no se encuentra en todas partes, si no dentro de ti: tu gran amor hacia mi. tan delicada pero a la misma vez tan fuerte & llena de vida. no quisieras que hubieran piezas de otras personas en mi. total, sabias que ninguno otro podria tocarme con el amor & la dulzura que lo haces tu. tu me conoces, pues tu me creaste. cuando me mirabas, te pensaba observando mi foto e imaginandome junto a ti. & que cuando estuve frente a ti, era la unica con la quien querias pasar todos tus ratos. tantos pensamientos cobraron vida cuando te vi, hasta que volvi a la realidad & recorde que no soy tu pieza de museo favorita. hasta que recorde que existe otra pieza de museo que te gusta tocar & moldear aun mas. hasta que recorde que hay alguien mas en tu vida que ocupa todos tus pensamientos & con quien pasas todos tus ratos.
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Jan 12, 2016
Jan 12, 2016 at 11:05 PM UTC
español
al verte parado frente a mi, pense en todas las veces que miraba tu foto & te imaginaba junto a mi. pense en lo pequeño que se ponen tus ojos cuando te ries & en lo amplia que se pone tu sonrisa cuando digo algo que te parece gracioso. pense en lo agradecida que estaba, pues era yo la culpable de que sonrieras tanto. te tuve tan cerca por mucho rato. volvi a tocarte, a abrazarte, a sentirte, a hablarte, a mirarte, a pensarte. hacias de cualquier momento uno util para hablarme. me preguntabas "estas cansada?" & sonreias. puede que me sienta cansada fisicamente, pero jamas me sentire cansada de ver tu sonrisa, ver tus ojos, escuchar tu voz, & escucharte sonreir. tu sonrisa es como la melodia que calma mis pensamientos & me ayuda a sentir viva. tantos dias mirando tu foto imaginandote a mi lado, & hoy por fin te tuve frente a mi sonriente como siempre lo has estado. aprovechabas cada momento para abrazarme & tocarme, observarme & hablarme. me hacias pensar en la vez que me preguntaste si eramos algo mas, que con tanto rato al lado tuyo lo comenze a creer. solo queria mas & mas & mas de ti. no solo te queria para ese rato. te queria para mas. para ese rato, & otro rato, & todos los ratos que puedan ser. sentir tus manos en mi me hizo sentir como pieza de museo. como si tu fueras el escultor que moldeaba la pieza & le daba forma & vida. & yo era la pieza de museo que cobraba vida al ser moldeada & tocada por ti. como si yo fuera esa pieza de museo que te sabes de memoria, te encanta tocar, & siempre esta en tus pensamientos. pense que eras el escultor que vendia taquillas de museo para que todos fueran & puedan admirar tu amada pieza de museo que soy yo. como si yo fuera tu pieza de museo favorita & quisieras que todos lo supieran para que conozcan & esten consientes de tan majestuosa pieza de museo que soy. que solo tuya soy & tuya sere. que no importa cuantos ojos vengan a observarme, sabrias que ninguno podria mirarme de la misma manera en la que lo haces tu. que no importa cuantas manos vengan con la intencion de tocarme, ninguno podria hacerlo pues soy tu pieza favorita & no quisieras que me rompieran, aunque muy en el fondo sabias que una pieza como yo jamas podria romperse, pues estaba echa de un material unico que no se encuentra en todas partes, si no dentro de ti: tu gran amor hacia mi. tan delicada pero a la misma vez tan fuerte & llena de vida. no quisieras que hubieran piezas de otras personas en mi. total, sabias que ninguno otro podria tocarme con el amor & la dulzura que lo haces tu. tu me conoces, pues tu me creaste. cuando me mirabas, te pensaba observando mi foto e imaginandome junto a ti. & que cuando estuve frente a ti, era la unica con la quien querias pasar todos tus ratos. tantos pensamientos cobraron vida cuando te vi, hasta que volvi a la realidad & recorde que no soy tu pieza de museo favorita. hasta que recorde que existe otra pieza de museo que te gusta tocar & moldear aun mas. hasta que recorde que hay alguien mas en tu vida que ocupa todos tus pensamientos & con quien pasas todos tus ratos.
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Though miles may separate us dear friend, And days fly quickly with each irksome chore, Our bond on such trifles does not depend, Only serves to enrich our love the more. Although skies may darken with clouds of grey Dispelling happiness with blackest gloom, Glad sunshine dances in sparkling ray When mem'ries of you flood as sweet perfume. Melody of robin and woodthrush blend; Gentle breezes through meadow grasses sigh. I am reminded of my lovely friend Causing worries and grief from me to fly. I am so happy to call you my friend! Happy Mother's Day Wishes I do send.
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May 12, 2013
May 12, 2013 at 6:12 PM UTC
Happy Mother's Day! Lori
I have a picture of you saved, For no eyes but my own, That I take out of my drawer Every day when I come home. I pretend you're here in front of me, As your body remains statuous, And cry into the picture As my grief for you grows fatuous. For though your captured smile is still I hear your loving laugh. That joy can't even be contained Inside this photograph. And though your captured skin is still I feel your heat reach mine, Radiating through the frame, Its mem'ries stopping time. And though your captured eyes are still The beauty of your gaze is just Too much for this poor photo To be able to contain. They say a thousand words A single picture can confess. But your frozen lips say nothing As the sun sets in the west. In your melancholic silence I place the picture in the drawer. Tomorrow I'll take it out again And grieve your love once more. - p. winter
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Jun 14, 2017
Jun 14, 2017 at 8:59 PM UTC
A Thousand Words
Come and look at my family it’s big and rambunctious they all mean a lot to me theres lots of different branches there’s a writer, called M. Rase and David too they’ve taught me things I never knew but of course they all do Im related to royalty a king and a queen Named Jose and Whispwill respectively I wonder if they’ve met each other yet? Then there’s determined Yuu who shredded my heart with Blackberry Tea some of them have hurt me, don’t worry though I’m sure their OC's will be fine after all they’ve been through R. Merryweather writes lots of things there’s even a new series next is Vel, with her apocalyptic mysteries Ana and Kittie are new to the family give them a big welcome when you see them Rukan’s drawing a series, seki and keisuke are my OTP Bob likes animals, she’s a skilled gal I really miss Yuumei, Wave, and Jun Lee but they’ll return someday, you’ll see Kura updated recently, Nick brought me to tears MAT and Ariel Ries crossed different boundaries but everything will be alright NaniRoxy's not around, she’s making some adjustments so you’ll just have to leave a message Viryse is in the hoodie brigade with Yuu, Jose, and Kao too GlanceReviver and KJ Tower write exciting love stories SnailLords is gone, but not really he moved his web series such a tease Captain Juuter and Kinkan Yoona slice up life in different ways this is badly written and doesn’t make sense and I know its long but it needed to be said and someday you can meet the rest of them the rest of my big family
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Mar 10, 2016
Mar 10, 2016 at 11:32 AM UTC
Meet my family
Come and look at my family it’s big and rambunctious they all mean a lot to me theres lots of different branches there’s a writer, called M. Rase and David too they’ve taught me things I never knew but of course they all do Im related to royalty a king and a queen Named Jose and Whispwill respectively I wonder if they’ve met each other yet? Then there’s determined Yuu who shredded my heart with Blackberry Tea some of them have hurt me, don’t worry though I’m sure their OC's will be fine after all they’ve been through R. Merryweather writes lots of things there’s even a new series next is Vel, with her apocalyptic mysteries Ana and Kittie are new to the family give them a big welcome when you see them Rukan’s drawing a series, seki and keisuke are my OTP Bob likes animals, she’s a skilled gal I really miss Yuumei, Wave, and Jun Lee but they’ll return someday, you’ll see Kura updated recently, Nick brought me to tears MAT and Ariel Ries crossed different boundaries but everything will be alright NaniRoxy's not around, she’s making some adjustments so you’ll just have to leave a message Viryse is in the hoodie brigade with Yuu, Jose, and Kao too GlanceReviver and KJ Tower write exciting love stories SnailLords is gone, but not really he moved his web series such a tease Captain Juuter and Kinkan Yoona slice up life in different ways this is badly written and doesn’t make sense and I know its long but it needed to be said and someday you can meet the rest of them the rest of my big family
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