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"rued" poems
Kindly tell the sun to look away I don’t want to see my curtain sway Indeed, because these fabricated joys Are demolished by an obscure ray Serve me breakfast while the day Lies as cold as the dew I’ll drink Now what to do is just obey Before we are rued by fire’s blink Put my hot tea beside the lake Serve it dead and withered The day is boiling and we’ll be late For we are but a paper scrapped The fireplace shall be planted With torn thorns of brown and black No rays of red will favor me As long as the sun scorns at us Wipe my mouth with torn fabric It pains me so to be stained in red That I long ago forsaken but now Dripping down my crooked neck For the ghost of you who preyed On my solitary beat of ill and **** For your revenant who feasted On my will and half-eaten heart For the glooms of your fairy Schadenfreude upon my sorry For the life I did not live To the joy I took from you Raise the cup and shatter it Open the curtain and drain our life of lies To the eye of the day and God’s pity Serve my breakfast before I live
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Oct 5, 2014
Oct 5, 2014 at 10:36 PM UTC
Breakfast
The way a crow Shook down on me The dust of snow From a hemlock tree Has given my heart A change of mood And saved some part Of a day I had rued.
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3.6k
Dust Of Snow
to make someone feel the way you want them to feel is to trade in your soul for a pizza without the mushrooms, sausages, pineapples, M&M;'s, pepperoni, cheese, tomato (it's pronounced toe-mato mind you) sauce, crust, dough and leaving all but an empty box on top of the garbage can. too bad for the floating astronaut, drunk on coconuts, when he left in his tin can. he's begun dancing on empty matter with all the missing pizzas. i guess their owners have been ****** and dumped in another swirling portal a long time ago when the light was flickering off on that empty street at dark(au contraire, mon cheri!), just threatening to die when you believed it was ageless? the night will never be a color. goodnight my loveless ingénue
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Oct 24, 2012
Oct 24, 2012 at 2:19 AM UTC
I Rued the Day of the Ageless Lamp Post
It was on Hallowe'en when we said we'd meet; as we thought it might be romantically spooky; and I trotted gaily along the pathway through the dimly-lit park where the predator gay *** maniacs roamed hoping for a bit of backdoor action and my excited little heart went "YI YI YI YI YI YAAAAARRRGGGHHH!" with eager anticipation of a hot new nymphomaniac date. We had been a-texting with ever-increasing frankness for several weeks and I was beginning to get tired of wiping the keyboard clean after each bout of frenzied manual self-stimulation which she had boldly urged me to and the built-in camera was out of order because of the damp ***** build-up. I found the pictures she sent me stimulating to say the very least especially the one with the melon peeping out from between her legs and I found her blood-red eyes rather exciting really once I got used to them; and I was quite looking forward to the love bites she promised me which was why I had washed my neck with particular attention to the blackheads. Promptly at the stroke of midnight my putative mistress arrived with a ******* great clap of thunder and to say I was surprised by her sulphurous breath would be putting it mildly and the fifty-five inch waist was a bit of a disappointment, and I honestly and truly think she might have mentioned the suppurating scabs and oozing boils or at least hinted at them. As I fought the ravening hell-bitch off with the hatchet I had wisely brought in my briefcase as a safety precaution once more I rued my innocence: how many times have I been let down after such high hopes from internet dating and yet - trusting soul that I am - I had again let my heart go astray. Once it was all over and I gazed down at her hideous and mutilated corpse bleeding and twitching on the ****** bitumen, I lifted up her skirt just to check the melon photo hadn't been a fake; and although there was no large piece of fruit in situ at the time I could see it had always been a very real possibility.
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Sep 25, 2015
Sep 25, 2015 at 12:22 PM UTC
A Horrid Halloween Internet Dating Disaster
It was on Hallowe'en when we said we'd meet; as we thought it might be romantically spooky; and I trotted gaily along the pathway through the dimly-lit park where the predator gay *** maniacs roamed hoping for a bit of backdoor action and my excited little heart went "YI YI YI YI YI YAAAAARRRGGGHHH!" with eager anticipation of a hot new nymphomaniac date. We had been a-texting with ever-increasing frankness for several weeks and I was beginning to get tired of wiping the keyboard clean after each bout of frenzied manual self-stimulation which she had boldly urged me to and the built-in camera was out of order because of the damp ***** build-up. I found the pictures she sent me stimulating to say the very least especially the one with the melon peeping out from between her legs and I found her blood-red eyes rather exciting really once I got used to them; and I was quite looking forward to the love bites she promised me which was why I had washed my neck with particular attention to the blackheads. Promptly at the stroke of midnight my putative mistress arrived with a ******* great clap of thunder and to say I was surprised by her sulphurous breath would be putting it mildly and the fifty-five inch waist was a bit of a disappointment, and I honestly and truly think she might have mentioned the suppurating scabs and oozing boils or at least hinted at them. As I fought the ravening hell-bitch off with the hatchet I had wisely brought in my briefcase as a safety precaution once more I rued my innocence: how many times have I been let down after such high hopes from internet dating and yet - trusting soul that I am - I had again let my heart go astray. Once it was all over and I gazed down at her hideous and mutilated corpse bleeding and twitching on the ****** bitumen, I lifted up her skirt just to check the melon photo hadn't been a fake; and although there was no large piece of fruit in situ at the time I could see it had always been a very real possibility.
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61
1 hour later The tears still streaming Knowing I was a fool And staying. What sense was that? Knowing that you kissed me And then kissed her Only to kiss me again. Why did I stay? In front of my eyes was the truth Yet, I overlooked it I listened to your lies Over and over again. I never rued anything in my life But if I could, I would, Take that relationship back. Take that kiss back. Take that I love you back. Take that “yes” back. I should have gone with my gut instinct. I should have listened to my heart When she said no. Funny when the brain and heart agree. That never seems to happen Yet, I ignored both. Karma pushed me through And I swear I will never cheat on another girl in my life. I will never play her. I will give her all of me. I will not shut down. I will not hesitate. I will be hers And only hers. If I ever find that lucky girl. She’s out there I’m sure Just not now. She’ll be the one that I tell I want to marry I will put that idea in the air first. She’ll be the one I say I want to be with you forever Although I don’t believe in forever She’ll be my forever As long as she’s mine. I will be hers And I will treat her the best I can. Karma had to lose herself in me Just for me to grow up quicker. Just for me to quit the games. Just for me to slow it down. Just for me . The tears never flowed because my heart was broken. The tears streamed because I understood all the hurt From all the girls Who let me in Who’s hearts I caressed then crushed Who’s minds I played tricks with like I was Houdini Who’s eyes I looked into and lied to If I could, I would Apologize to every single one of them. If I could, I would.
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Sep 25, 2012
Sep 25, 2012 at 7:49 PM UTC
If I could, I would.
1 hour later The tears still streaming Knowing I was a fool And staying. What sense was that? Knowing that you kissed me And then kissed her Only to kiss me again. Why did I stay? In front of my eyes was the truth Yet, I overlooked it I listened to your lies Over and over again. I never rued anything in my life But if I could, I would, Take that relationship back. Take that kiss back. Take that I love you back. Take that “yes” back. I should have gone with my gut instinct. I should have listened to my heart When she said no. Funny when the brain and heart agree. That never seems to happen Yet, I ignored both. Karma pushed me through And I swear I will never cheat on another girl in my life. I will never play her. I will give her all of me. I will not shut down. I will not hesitate. I will be hers And only hers. If I ever find that lucky girl. She’s out there I’m sure Just not now. She’ll be the one that I tell I want to marry I will put that idea in the air first. She’ll be the one I say I want to be with you forever Although I don’t believe in forever She’ll be my forever As long as she’s mine. I will be hers And I will treat her the best I can. Karma had to lose herself in me Just for me to grow up quicker. Just for me to quit the games. Just for me to slow it down. Just for me . The tears never flowed because my heart was broken. The tears streamed because I understood all the hurt From all the girls Who let me in Who’s hearts I caressed then crushed Who’s minds I played tricks with like I was Houdini Who’s eyes I looked into and lied to If I could, I would Apologize to every single one of them. If I could, I would.
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60
My poetry is an acquired taste, So come, dear one, Place your tongue in my mouth. Pace yourself, there is so much, Spoke and unwritten, That fruitions only when spit-shared. Flick your tongue-tip to mine, Sealing bond, the salt caramel of my rhymes, The iambic meter of my tamarind prose, The buds, flowering, poems forming, Watered by the admixture of joint, minted saliva. My poetry, so very complicated, Hints of currants and ash, Soil volcanic, basaltic vowels, oh's and eyes, Cursed verses that commence with I, Nonetheless, despite soil inhospitable rued, Compositions flourish, born wetland soluble. Yours, for the taking, Yours, for the tasting. You place your fingers on my waist, My body of work to contemplate, My ditties, you spit out, You want courses, not appetizers, You want truths, not fluff, lies, menu tastings. Columbus and Magellan, thy fingers named, Trace the curvature of my *** With tip and tipsy stroked caresses, You laugh with the pleasure of all the sssssss's. Hissing all the day your satisfaction, Capturing my writs, by your tongue's duress, Recipient-thief of my literary largesse. I am dressed all in white, Stripped bare to my native coloring, Except for two brown nippled spots, you lick, Imbibing milky thoughts  from fountain-heads ***** Savoring, relishing, stanzas that praise love's flavor. With every line, every word-painting accessioned, You make my soft parts hard, My hard parts soft, but my liquidity, My tears, they, that, you drink straight, Licking, liking, and oohing and ahhing, You tongue curled, upside down arching, The storage point of your seduced gatherings. To drain me full, your incisors cut, Straight lines, entry points for your ******* Taking, draining, leaving nothing, Not even one aleph or bet escaping. When you acquired my poetry, my verbosity, Pillaging soul's hiding place, took and ***** Your acquired the best, breaking my nape, Imprisoned on and by my island's seascape, Blanched and pained, a blank tape, I am tasteless, witless, mockingly, tongue-tied.
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Sep 14, 2013
Sep 14, 2013 at 12:23 AM UTC
My Poetry is an Acquired Taste (explicit)
My poetry is an acquired taste, So come, dear one, Place your tongue in my mouth. Pace yourself, there is so much, Spoke and unwritten, That fruitions only when spit-shared. Flick your tongue-tip to mine, Sealing bond, the salt caramel of my rhymes, The iambic meter of my tamarind prose, The buds, flowering, poems forming, Watered by the admixture of joint, minted saliva. My poetry, so very complicated, Hints of currants and ash, Soil volcanic, basaltic vowels, oh's and eyes, Cursed verses that commence with I, Nonetheless, despite soil inhospitable rued, Compositions flourish, born wetland soluble. Yours, for the taking, Yours, for the tasting. You place your fingers on my waist, My body of work to contemplate, My ditties, you spit out, You want courses, not appetizers, You want truths, not fluff, lies, menu tastings. Columbus and Magellan, thy fingers named, Trace the curvature of my *** With tip and tipsy stroked caresses, You laugh with the pleasure of all the sssssss's. Hissing all the day your satisfaction, Capturing my writs, by your tongue's duress, Recipient-thief of my literary largesse. I am dressed all in white, Stripped bare to my native coloring, Except for two brown nippled spots, you lick, Imbibing milky thoughts  from fountain-heads ***** Savoring, relishing, stanzas that praise love's flavor. With every line, every word-painting accessioned, You make my soft parts hard, My hard parts soft, but my liquidity, My tears, they, that, you drink straight, Licking, liking, and oohing and ahhing, You tongue curled, upside down arching, The storage point of your seduced gatherings. To drain me full, your incisors cut, Straight lines, entry points for your ******* Taking, draining, leaving nothing, Not even one aleph or bet escaping. When you acquired my poetry, my verbosity, Pillaging soul's hiding place, took and ***** Your acquired the best, breaking my nape, Imprisoned on and by my island's seascape, Blanched and pained, a blank tape, I am tasteless, witless, mockingly, tongue-tied.
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53
In 2008, I lay upon the floor,   disabled, pain hobbled, my back unable to properly space the Lego discs that keep a man upright king and absolute ruler, was I of the carpet. in the little blue room off the kitchen, where solace in loneliness, was my little heaven in hell. It was my blue period, When you decided to leave And try to take everything But hang around our apartment to practice, practice making misery your profession. It was the same little blue room, years before I ran to, for a few hours rest after tending to you, nursing your cancer needs, fetching, most fetching, I fetched and fluffed, shopped and tended, and comforted, after working all day. Now three years on, on the floor of the same little blue room, unable to move, weakly, wounded, brokebacked, I was a soldier, in a deep trench, almost paralyzed, caught tween desk and bed called your name, even though there was nothing you could have done. Role reversal, years later, roll reversal, roll from the bed to the floor, fallen, immobilized, I rued the morning light, for men must work and women must weep, work and weep, this morning, I was responsible for both. I called you name repeatedly, in a peculiar voice, agreed, the voice of wrack and ruination, after hearing you slippers shuffle a two step at 2 Am, outside the little blue room, oh for many a minute, in the middle of the night, calling, calling perhaps, you would help me to rise, oh yes, just to help me stand, on my bent back, my own legs Somehow one finds a way, is it not always that way? Later, I asked. Did you hear me call you name in the middle of the night? Oh yes. But your voice sounded so weird, I would not go in. Years later, I asked again. Just get over it, you replied, matter of factly. Today, years later, I ask again, right now, right here, I ask but a different question. Do you think I am over it now? Oct 15th 2011
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Nov 6, 2013
Nov 6, 2013 at 6:42 AM UTC
Do you think I am over it now?
In 2008, I lay upon the floor,   disabled, pain hobbled, my back unable to properly space the Lego discs that keep a man upright king and absolute ruler, was I of the carpet. in the little blue room off the kitchen, where solace in loneliness, was my little heaven in hell. It was my blue period, When you decided to leave And try to take everything But hang around our apartment to practice, practice making misery your profession. It was the same little blue room, years before I ran to, for a few hours rest after tending to you, nursing your cancer needs, fetching, most fetching, I fetched and fluffed, shopped and tended, and comforted, after working all day. Now three years on, on the floor of the same little blue room, unable to move, weakly, wounded, brokebacked, I was a soldier, in a deep trench, almost paralyzed, caught tween desk and bed called your name, even though there was nothing you could have done. Role reversal, years later, roll reversal, roll from the bed to the floor, fallen, immobilized, I rued the morning light, for men must work and women must weep, work and weep, this morning, I was responsible for both. I called you name repeatedly, in a peculiar voice, agreed, the voice of wrack and ruination, after hearing you slippers shuffle a two step at 2 Am, outside the little blue room, oh for many a minute, in the middle of the night, calling, calling perhaps, you would help me to rise, oh yes, just to help me stand, on my bent back, my own legs Somehow one finds a way, is it not always that way? Later, I asked. Did you hear me call you name in the middle of the night? Oh yes. But your voice sounded so weird, I would not go in. Years later, I asked again. Just get over it, you replied, matter of factly. Today, years later, I ask again, right now, right here, I ask but a different question. Do you think I am over it now? Oct 15th 2011
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95
We've got the wedding bin blues, Reception Centres should have been sued, Plastic chicken and phony food, "Why did you marry me?" we rued, This is the first wives' club, Half were in the pudding club, The orange appliances survived, Half the exes aren't alive! Reception Centres should have been sued, We've got the wedding bin blues!!!
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Sep 9, 2015
Sep 9, 2015 at 5:52 PM UTC
WEDDING BIN BLUES!!
I cannot fix the broken I cannot fix your heart, The words that are left unspoken Will tear our souls apart, There is no room for forgiveness, No love in which to find, You can try to collect the pieces, But forever; you will not find. Look at the hour glass, Your time will be what's rued, There's no way you can grasp Onto what you put me through. I'm not expecting you to understand this, So I know you'll question why. Ever since the first kiss, You made me believe a lie.
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Dec 5, 2013
Dec 5, 2013 at 11:40 PM UTC
Hour Glasses and Empty Fears.
I miss their cold house I miss sittinn w/ them on their couch. I remember that one time we had to **** a mouse I miss their smiling faces even though their was alcohol traces the talk of their adoption cases the big giant hugs the evenly stained rugs and the spray for the nasty bugs the personalized birthday cakes them being there when I wake those art projects we used to make their faces when I walked in the door when we all pitched in to clean the floor my dad would always snore the long messages they left on my phone how I could never ever find a comb they way we all sang off-tone I miss when we prayed before diner we were really all just beginners all these things I can't help but remeber prayers in the evening night the occasional sibling fight my dad was always right I love them so much our story is truly touching so inspiring and such even though things got really rough there is no deny that we were really tough I didn't get to see long enough I'm longing for the day that I can finally say we are all here to stay. when we danced in the family room and in the sring when the flowers bloomed to the nights where we sat outside and saw the moon in the summer when we swam at the pool in the afternoons when they came home from school to the days it started to get cool I miss the crazy hair doos all the days that had been rued when everyone was in a good mood when katie wore he skirts too short and I watched them play basketball on the bball courts when elizabeth would laugh and then snort:) when we had that huge waterfight in the backyard when we would throw pillows at each other really hard the way we always made each other birthday cards how we all had to squeeze in our car the way they liked pickles from a jar that big brownie that kinda looked like tar the hello kitty cd player the giant peppper shaker and the pro food maker I miss them with all my heart it was all ment to be from the start all of us did our parts. I miss them
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Nov 25, 2011
Nov 25, 2011 at 2:25 PM UTC
i miss them
I miss their cold house I miss sittinn w/ them on their couch. I remember that one time we had to **** a mouse I miss their smiling faces even though their was alcohol traces the talk of their adoption cases the big giant hugs the evenly stained rugs and the spray for the nasty bugs the personalized birthday cakes them being there when I wake those art projects we used to make their faces when I walked in the door when we all pitched in to clean the floor my dad would always snore the long messages they left on my phone how I could never ever find a comb they way we all sang off-tone I miss when we prayed before diner we were really all just beginners all these things I can't help but remeber prayers in the evening night the occasional sibling fight my dad was always right I love them so much our story is truly touching so inspiring and such even though things got really rough there is no deny that we were really tough I didn't get to see long enough I'm longing for the day that I can finally say we are all here to stay. when we danced in the family room and in the sring when the flowers bloomed to the nights where we sat outside and saw the moon in the summer when we swam at the pool in the afternoons when they came home from school to the days it started to get cool I miss the crazy hair doos all the days that had been rued when everyone was in a good mood when katie wore he skirts too short and I watched them play basketball on the bball courts when elizabeth would laugh and then snort:) when we had that huge waterfight in the backyard when we would throw pillows at each other really hard the way we always made each other birthday cards how we all had to squeeze in our car the way they liked pickles from a jar that big brownie that kinda looked like tar the hello kitty cd player the giant peppper shaker and the pro food maker I miss them with all my heart it was all ment to be from the start all of us did our parts. I miss them
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walking so fervently i stalk as i talk weaving webs of decptions to those i mock listening for the howling that with my madness comes. searching for feeling that out my numbness rubs. id like to say im beyond greed, my soul ever searching for completion no the lights flicker in my minds eye. over realities to my self i constantly lie. as i relax the colors show through a strobe of splendors with no absolute hue. slashes and shapes with magnificient gapes, pull back the drapes, dont let in the shapes. abyss so wonderful, a lava lamp beautiful a lament to archangels, my curses rued by dark and frilly, lacy things. leather to measure the desire of pleasure about to gain mould, a tether by masters controlling desperate hold. the light my bane, id run if able, to escape the one true god, so bashfully i fear, as changes the year, and sprinkles a tear on ground no sound found, forever bound to this mound, hear.
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Oct 16, 2013
Oct 16, 2013 at 10:52 PM UTC
no date 2009
there is a point of no return unthinkingly dismissed a line crossed bringing instant regret; each and every decision up until that moment questioned lamented and rued i have just crossed that threshold again the hangnail was bitten and pulled until flesh was torn and the blood ran now there is nothing but discomfort knowing full well what i was doing; there is no excuse for such folly
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Jul 8, 2021
Jul 8, 2021 at 11:44 AM UTC
once bitten...
where a dollar separates you from being broke or rued some fellar' stealin' your broad. down the blue collar road in the land of Alabam' ? ever been a shill for a thief or the cuckolded ole stooge standin' in the wake of the love hurricane? Ever noticed another man's woman? Or tried to pet his dog when he was gone? Stole a glance at some beauty, way outside your reach? Been immobile no phone or wherewithal wet breeches and droopy jowled, alone in Mobile? But the skies are so blue, the song said it true. Down in Alabam'
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Apr 12, 2016
Apr 12, 2016 at 2:16 AM UTC
have you ever been
Have you seen us for what we are - dusty emblems of something greater, just remember a water diviner chased a ghost river seeing  hope for some lost vista. Ashen pale we have since become who've only known forgotten whispers, rued through thickets conjured from our minds eye,  falling amongst the sirens, bells and whistles. The actual dissolvent is shying, recalling that rod that beat the back of yonder, to the merest glimpse  where it had gone wrong
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May 10, 2017
May 10, 2017 at 9:57 AM UTC
The semblance of order
My pane of glass allows me to see the farce that is my life. Remember that song lyric “I’ve been to paradise, but I’ve never been to me”?, well, I’ve never been to paradise and I’ve never been me. Me, a person is too much to try and describe, let alone the life I’ve lived and hid. My skin is a skein wrapped tightly over my remains My brain what of it works is a profane stain, it cheats at life and keeps me looking through that pane at my pain. My pain makes me stronger, my pain is my armour, my pain is a ball and chain choking me down whilst I try to retain order. I’m never mundane and always entertain myself with the next charade.I’ve portrayed and played many parts, paid my dues and rued the pain that started in my heart. Happiness folds in on itself like a piece of paper. Can you be jealous of a time? I can. I am. Like salt in a wound I sting at being absent at my own life Pain screams at me and I smile back
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May 26, 2022
May 26, 2022 at 1:04 PM UTC
My Pane
Remember waking up to the smell of mothers' breakfast on the table waiting to be eaten,  while she sang her childhood songs in the kitchen? remember being super excited to meet your friends at school but rued the moment of your eyes locking with your class teacher? remember the love letters we would send to the people we were infatuated with because we thought they were perfect , and the gossiping we used to do about other relationships? Remember after school afternoons were we would stall the time to go home and extend procrastination hours from school work ? Remember when thinking that everything in the future is just a dream that would never come,  but everyday was a step closer?   I smile...because I remember because I counted every minute I lived,  but never took time to count how many minutes I'm dying.
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Jan 10, 2017
Jan 10, 2017 at 4:28 PM UTC
Reminece
He ran like the wind up the gangway saw the door  still open ahead near the door stood four Port attendants gasping for breaths he reached them with hands outstretched they stopped him No, No, No, he cried I've got to get on, I've got to get on Sorry sir too late, their voices rang out I'm afraid Sir, you're too late What! look the door is still opened Please, let me in, pleasee for heaven's sake let me in, I've got to get on board Sorry Sir, against the rules, you are just too late but the door is still opened,please I beg you let me in Afraid can't do that,you are just too late, just too late today What Jobsworth you lot are how inconsiderate can you lot be the ****** door is still open,why are you being so obstructive isn't your job to help passengers,isn't that what you're paid to do do you realize how inconvenient this is, do you realize what this will cost me' Sorry Sir, we are only doing our job You are too late for this flight,go back to the departure Lounge They'll help get you on a later flight,sorry but Rules are Rules And with that   the plane doors were closed Oh..how he hated these ********* ****** unhelpful inconsiderate Jobsworth, ****** idiots, the whole lot of them, arseholes! Dejectedly,he walked back to the ****** Departure Lounge Fuming, dragging his ****** attache case, he sought out the help desk Cursing and muttering, he rued the ******* two minutes delay that cost him this flight. Angrily, he marched to the Air Ethiopia Check in desk Sullenly he explained his plight! Its a two hour wait for the next flight out, they informed him. Still upset, he handed in his ticket and they did the necessary Handing back his ticket, he walked away and sat in Departure why, oh why did this happen to me, he muttered angrily He sat miserably, he cursed again under his breath. **** God! He had been sitting for about an hour when he noticed people suddenly running around, something was happening There was a real air of panic around, Officials were running helter skelter, people were huddling in pockets, he saw Police Official barking orders and Airport Staff talking excitedly He heard some people shouting in a group to his right He stood up alarmed he stated walking towards a group to his left Then he saw one of the Jobsworth that had stopped him from boarding his flight, the Jobsworth had a look of utter alarm on his face, he was also sweating. What's happening, what's wrong, he asked him, now alarmed himself. Oh Sir, ooh Sir...the Jobsworth exclaimed, looking at him wide-eyed. That Plane you missed has just crashed, killing everybody on board.....!!!
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Mar 16, 2019
Mar 16, 2019 at 12:37 PM UTC
Invalid invadilating is validated validating..!!
He ran like the wind up the gangway saw the door  still open ahead near the door stood four Port attendants gasping for breaths he reached them with hands outstretched they stopped him No, No, No, he cried I've got to get on, I've got to get on Sorry sir too late, their voices rang out I'm afraid Sir, you're too late What! look the door is still opened Please, let me in, pleasee for heaven's sake let me in, I've got to get on board Sorry Sir, against the rules, you are just too late but the door is still opened,please I beg you let me in Afraid can't do that,you are just too late, just too late today What Jobsworth you lot are how inconsiderate can you lot be the ****** door is still open,why are you being so obstructive isn't your job to help passengers,isn't that what you're paid to do do you realize how inconvenient this is, do you realize what this will cost me' Sorry Sir, we are only doing our job You are too late for this flight,go back to the departure Lounge They'll help get you on a later flight,sorry but Rules are Rules And with that   the plane doors were closed Oh..how he hated these ********* ****** unhelpful inconsiderate Jobsworth, ****** idiots, the whole lot of them, arseholes! Dejectedly,he walked back to the ****** Departure Lounge Fuming, dragging his ****** attache case, he sought out the help desk Cursing and muttering, he rued the ******* two minutes delay that cost him this flight. Angrily, he marched to the Air Ethiopia Check in desk Sullenly he explained his plight! Its a two hour wait for the next flight out, they informed him. Still upset, he handed in his ticket and they did the necessary Handing back his ticket, he walked away and sat in Departure why, oh why did this happen to me, he muttered angrily He sat miserably, he cursed again under his breath. **** God! He had been sitting for about an hour when he noticed people suddenly running around, something was happening There was a real air of panic around, Officials were running helter skelter, people were huddling in pockets, he saw Police Official barking orders and Airport Staff talking excitedly He heard some people shouting in a group to his right He stood up alarmed he stated walking towards a group to his left Then he saw one of the Jobsworth that had stopped him from boarding his flight, the Jobsworth had a look of utter alarm on his face, he was also sweating. What's happening, what's wrong, he asked him, now alarmed himself. Oh Sir, ooh Sir...the Jobsworth exclaimed, looking at him wide-eyed. That Plane you missed has just crashed, killing everybody on board.....!!!
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53
Nine angels Care and naked simplicity Future weal, to remind in open quarrel Speed is a having guest, to avarice when implicitly... A heart of darkness And the cares of calling a friend to the table Rued gestures of candor, a candle of secrets And the stir of something greater, than a justifiable... Looking hard, for a salient generosity of ply and can Will a shared eye, begin here, or in the meet Of promises told to take their time, a stodgy plan? Letting boding become a shame? taking a seat... Ten angels And the blindness of voices attuned to a pitch Vice and curiosity to tender a vantage, well Who is the other side of privilege in the dark, so rich? I am, says one, the truth in terrified gifts... Is a language we can afford; a hatred of hearts, and nix? With a nobility of silence, we have adjusted might's to is... A hearkening joke, the only way to survive the day, ad sic.? All flee, but the one, and the need of cause serious To remember the taste of couth, complimenting the hour with aim Did, says the one to remain, the word of composure is ours furious Adding, says the rest to a whole comfort, I knew by the very name...
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Mar 16, 2023
Mar 16, 2023 at 2:03 PM UTC
Nine Ways To Stay, In Love With May
O Lady Fortune, matron of the moon who changes every eve. Your nature sought to be unkind to most and likewise fought my fate. For years I spat and cursed and rued your name. I wondered why you thought to doom my works to fail when I had done but naught to earn thy spite and need to fight for aught which I would keep from thy gambling room. And yet somehow, by twist of Cousin Chance, you deigned to put true beauty in my way, a Hestia to mend the ache of time. Her starshot eyes have set me with a glance alight. My sidhe to hold and love, always for to cherish while she will remain mine.
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Sep 13, 2019
Sep 13, 2019 at 10:46 PM UTC
My Hestia
AJean-Paul Sartre: “If you’re lonely when you’re alone, you’re in bad company” <> stumbled upon while reading a movie review, this almost a proverbial phrase provoking, even stoking, as we hold it up to the light, twisting, turning the words, as if it was a kaleidoscope of diamonds, looking at the fractured reflections, for a better comprehension we, of two minds: be-love and be-rued this s l o w e d turning of our solitary solution under the microscope , for critiquing the two headed hydra that has served us  well and poorly you, dear reader, understand perfectly, the utility and the inutility of aloneness, the surge creativity that comes from no distractions, other than our internal attractions which when one interrupted by the company of, insertion of a different catalogue a holder of human foibles, differentiating, threatening, upsetting, and sometimes soothing, always enervating, unlike the soothe of solitude either can overwhelm, either can worse, underwhelm but the crossover. when the contrast is pointy and sharp, raises an irritating questioning like the cracking, dry skin, of places where we do not put moisturizing cream for fear of feeling failure each to their own, the enjoy/unjoy of voices claiming a  permanent correctness of their viewpoint   wringing in with a legal pad of pluses and minuses listing side to dide, but never adding up to 💯
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Mar 19, 2025
Mar 19, 2025 at 8:16 AM UTC
March Madness: bad company
Do you hold me in your memory? Or did all the mementos flee Once you no longer heard from me? My intention was not to abandon But joy played elsewhere so I had to run To it; thinking I could leave crumbs To find my way back to you Now you found your path more true And I am just a time you rued I wish you would remember me Even if in the distance like fading drums. A beat begot by the love you lose A rhythm that holds memory That weeps now at what it will next become A trance to track the my next muse
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Oct 3, 2018
Oct 3, 2018 at 11:35 PM UTC
Fading Drums
When you first met her seemed she was for you made your wait was now over time had come to go ahead! *Most beautiful girl was she for holding hand and walk she was heavenly was yours by good luck!* How those times flew with her on windy sail before you knew her well she had grown too stale! *She wasn't all that nice you didn't understand what made you pay the price to love her ask her hand!* It started with a tiff then frequent quarrel soon you reached the cliff time with her was hell! From her you grew aloof *she wasn't for you made being under the same roof burned fire in your head!* Soon you parted way for you had strayed far *rued that ******* day when you fell in love with her!* Can you tell me why love dies we part our way once more we don't try to love her like first day!
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May 25, 2014
May 25, 2014 at 11:28 AM UTC
Metamorphosis
The only things we do two by two we pay for one by one. Someone once said this world is a stage and each must play his part and fate held me as a lover and you as my sweetheart and Act I was where we met and I loved you at first glance and I thanked the author for this part and for giving me this chance. You said your lines so cleverly as you never missed a cue and I was the happiest man on earth and then came Act II and you seemed to change, acting strange just why I never knew until you went away and left me alone and blue. if you lied when you said you loved me I had no cause to doubt you but I'd rather go on hearing your lies than to go on living without you. I swore the day I met you that I would win your heart and I vowed that day I'd get you to yield to Cupids dart and I've rued that fascination and I wish I could forget you but I have one consolation - I swore the day I met you. Jon York 2017
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Feb 10, 2017
Feb 10, 2017 at 8:24 PM UTC
Poems At Random II
Wasn't, not was... The tale of entertained innocence Speak of the devil, is all of a heed, a buzz? Long times with a pretty eye, that took on the proverbial since... Honey, and a summary land... Sent to a rhyming breeze? obscure was a noble they Venting irony for a risen dance? welcoming mercy at hand Baring the shall's comment to a calling? secrets with prettier eyes, may... Talking with the burden; so adroit, of a banal instinct...? Has focused another's eye on the problems of home... Heavenly couth or the curse of happenstance Has welcomed us, not the spoil of demand, but a wish becoming some... Wealth, versus wisdom In the pity, we fight like aristocratic futures... Found like a stricken conversation let, to complete and win Salvation of a peace; is ours for question we made, to purity... But, where, is the fun in that... Save your hug first, for a rolling presence of sharing a loyalty Simple as pie, a black bird has spilled the beans, a royal isn't... That is the cough of dependency, for a soul with or without, simplicity? Good morning, angel How was the nights resolve, sleepy philosophy till the end? You awoke when a silence was early, the hour given to little... Loves and daring decency, of a waiting hope, to make your liberty a host to render...? The patience you show, and the embarrassment of should? A showing live of simpler sorts, with the count of shadows... Persistent little cease and desist, approval of a nary come would Without a friend for hap, from here to eternity with a spoken said: Wishes that play the part Wishes that compare final luck, to a promise that seems to keep Wishes that rued the irony of poise, into two parts of art Wishes that sake a divine course for the breath of a season's leap Of succinct chances and flowers that gave the wonder of solitude... Somewhere, the poignancy of a shared idea, if not the dragon that made you... Is a weary hindsight, that has sat on the laurels of worth, like a shoulder Your care for these, meant and lent with virtue, has juice to please?
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Jun 29, 2024
Jun 29, 2024 at 9:32 PM UTC
Aunt's Misery, And Uncle's Kind Enough To Laugh?
Wasn't, not was... The tale of entertained innocence Speak of the devil, is all of a heed, a buzz? Long times with a pretty eye, that took on the proverbial since... Honey, and a summary land... Sent to a rhyming breeze? obscure was a noble they Venting irony for a risen dance? welcoming mercy at hand Baring the shall's comment to a calling? secrets with prettier eyes, may... Talking with the burden; so adroit, of a banal instinct...? Has focused another's eye on the problems of home... Heavenly couth or the curse of happenstance Has welcomed us, not the spoil of demand, but a wish becoming some... Wealth, versus wisdom In the pity, we fight like aristocratic futures... Found like a stricken conversation let, to complete and win Salvation of a peace; is ours for question we made, to purity... But, where, is the fun in that... Save your hug first, for a rolling presence of sharing a loyalty Simple as pie, a black bird has spilled the beans, a royal isn't... That is the cough of dependency, for a soul with or without, simplicity? Good morning, angel How was the nights resolve, sleepy philosophy till the end? You awoke when a silence was early, the hour given to little... Loves and daring decency, of a waiting hope, to make your liberty a host to render...? The patience you show, and the embarrassment of should? A showing live of simpler sorts, with the count of shadows... Persistent little cease and desist, approval of a nary come would Without a friend for hap, from here to eternity with a spoken said: Wishes that play the part Wishes that compare final luck, to a promise that seems to keep Wishes that rued the irony of poise, into two parts of art Wishes that sake a divine course for the breath of a season's leap Of succinct chances and flowers that gave the wonder of solitude... Somewhere, the poignancy of a shared idea, if not the dragon that made you... Is a weary hindsight, that has sat on the laurels of worth, like a shoulder Your care for these, meant and lent with virtue, has juice to please?
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Breakup *** is oft the best. That last time you see your Love undressed. A few last moments to grab for joy. No time for subtlety or being coy. I remember it like yesterday, though forty years have come and gone. The last time I sampled of your charms when last I held you in these arms . The Love triangle I so rued then, has come to nothing in the end. We both wed others in Life's comic play and consigned our Love to yesterday
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Aug 25, 2019
Aug 25, 2019 at 12:56 PM UTC
Breakup ***