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"ruffle" poems
I miss your smile The way you made me feel You, the invincible brother Me, your faithful sidekick Why is a question I have asked Over and over again It has been 9 years Without you So much you have missed I think about you daily Wishing you were here I want to hear your laugh I want you to come ruffle my hair You were taken too soon It is not fair that I am here, alone I miss you, Jimmy!
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Apr 26, 2015
Apr 26, 2015 at 5:50 PM UTC
Gone too Soon
I wanna love you unique Vibrate your insides when I speak Open up..Go deep Together discover our peak Lost..No I've been found Tie you up eat you bound Groans of pleasure love the sound Tongue tracing all around Flurry of kisses feel my lips Up your thigh between your hips Go ahead give me tips Instruct me as I do my dips Deep inside we can feel Euphoric as our bodies reel Swallow me like a pill Eat you like my favorite meal Writhing from playful munch Arching backs in a hunch Round for round feel my punch Have you ******* in a bunch Welcome to ******** State Now it's time to penetrate Slamming on your pearly gate Spring a leak start to shake Hold on tight feel my muscle Toss you wild as we tussle As your feathers start to ruffle We connect complete the puzzle Adult mindset can't be weak Words not needed when bodies speak Forever finding what you seek Euphoric pleasure one so unique..
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Jan 8, 2015
Jan 8, 2015 at 4:47 PM UTC
Unique
EᔕᔕᕼI ~ ⚪♫⚪ ~ The kitchen's air is redolent with spices, peppers and cinnamon, all-spice and star anise, thyme and curry. The cooks are shouting orders; taking rose-silver pots and copper pans; each having the print of the Lily of Aurelinaea; from the wooden shelves, plates and bowls from the cup- boards; some are stirring soups over coal-fire stoves; others are dicing carrots, potatoes, fresh poultry and more. ~ ⚪♫⚪ ~ Esshi, in a light-green off-the-shoulder dress of rose-silk with a triple ruffle trim, lined with yellow ribbon, a thigh high slit and white lilies beadery, is speaking to the head-chef who nods. "Certainly, Lady Esshi." he says and turns to his busy staff. "Bring out the paella pans! We have orders for the Queen Mother!" "Yes, chef!" a woman says as she pulls out a rose-silver paella pan and places it on the stove. The head-chef turns to Esshi. "You need not worry, Lady Esshi," he smiles. "I will make the dishes with care." ~ ⚪♫⚪ ~ "You always do, Bael," Esshi chuckles as he washes his hands and she walks to the corner, sighing. 'My Lady...' she thinks worried. "Lady Esshi?" her thoughts are broken by a woman's voice. She turns to see a   florist behind her. *'So lost in thought, that I did not hear the door open.'* She thinks as her eyes fall on the flower vase. ~ ⚪♫⚪ ~ The vase is art noveau style; a deep emerald green with a maiden in flowing silks, her hair bejewelled with lilies. Esshi's eyes then rise to look at the flower arrangement - white lilies with lilac kisses, purple roses and several stems of lavender. "Lady Ainhara said I should bring this to you." "It's lovely," Esshi sniffs the fresh flowers. "Very beautiful! You certainly outdid yourself. It's for our young Queen, I take it?" "Yes. And Lady Ainhara said I should bring you this also." She sees her place some paper, quill and ink down and Esshi smiles.
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Sep 15, 2018
Sep 15, 2018 at 3:41 PM UTC
♪♫♛♕ тнє мαѕкє∂ вαя∂ IV ♕♛♫♪
EᔕᔕᕼI ~ ⚪♫⚪ ~ The kitchen's air is redolent with spices, peppers and cinnamon, all-spice and star anise, thyme and curry. The cooks are shouting orders; taking rose-silver pots and copper pans; each having the print of the Lily of Aurelinaea; from the wooden shelves, plates and bowls from the cup- boards; some are stirring soups over coal-fire stoves; others are dicing carrots, potatoes, fresh poultry and more. ~ ⚪♫⚪ ~ Esshi, in a light-green off-the-shoulder dress of rose-silk with a triple ruffle trim, lined with yellow ribbon, a thigh high slit and white lilies beadery, is speaking to the head-chef who nods. "Certainly, Lady Esshi." he says and turns to his busy staff. "Bring out the paella pans! We have orders for the Queen Mother!" "Yes, chef!" a woman says as she pulls out a rose-silver paella pan and places it on the stove. The head-chef turns to Esshi. "You need not worry, Lady Esshi," he smiles. "I will make the dishes with care." ~ ⚪♫⚪ ~ "You always do, Bael," Esshi chuckles as he washes his hands and she walks to the corner, sighing. 'My Lady...' she thinks worried. "Lady Esshi?" her thoughts are broken by a woman's voice. She turns to see a   florist behind her. *'So lost in thought, that I did not hear the door open.'* She thinks as her eyes fall on the flower vase. ~ ⚪♫⚪ ~ The vase is art noveau style; a deep emerald green with a maiden in flowing silks, her hair bejewelled with lilies. Esshi's eyes then rise to look at the flower arrangement - white lilies with lilac kisses, purple roses and several stems of lavender. "Lady Ainhara said I should bring this to you." "It's lovely," Esshi sniffs the fresh flowers. "Very beautiful! You certainly outdid yourself. It's for our young Queen, I take it?" "Yes. And Lady Ainhara said I should bring you this also." She sees her place some paper, quill and ink down and Esshi smiles.
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We are like two guitar picks They are all so unique Different shapes Different sizes Different textures Different smells Different feels Different beings But we We are identical Just like each other And we play music that is so different No one gets it No one figures it why But so it is And only we can get what flows out of it Strumming along in dischord And harmony too You’re just like me And I am just like you But we have our own guitars And that is where our melody flows The music all so complete All so perfect That it makes you just not believe Coz things cannot be perfect For nothing ever is complete For beauty lies in incompleteness And imperfection And we with our guitars Are just so ****** perfect That it bleeds me to see us that way If only guitar picks like us Were left alone with each other And never touched or disturbed We wouldn’t get around to do anything For the two of us Are of the same kind We can’t get music out of us Or each other Coz we are no guitars And we won’t have them Or anything else But just each other Two guitar picks With the same lives Touch Smell Shape and design The only two unique That no one else can match That no one else can get And there we lie together in the corner No one to ruffle us Just left to ourselves And we lie there By our sides And we can’t play no music And we can’t strum a song Coz we are two guitar picks Without nothing else Without no guitars But only ourselves Which is just so ****** incomplete And so imperfect So mighty beautiful..
0
May 11, 2014
May 11, 2014 at 12:01 PM UTC
Two guitar picks
We are like two guitar picks They are all so unique Different shapes Different sizes Different textures Different smells Different feels Different beings But we We are identical Just like each other And we play music that is so different No one gets it No one figures it why But so it is And only we can get what flows out of it Strumming along in dischord And harmony too You’re just like me And I am just like you But we have our own guitars And that is where our melody flows The music all so complete All so perfect That it makes you just not believe Coz things cannot be perfect For nothing ever is complete For beauty lies in incompleteness And imperfection And we with our guitars Are just so ****** perfect That it bleeds me to see us that way If only guitar picks like us Were left alone with each other And never touched or disturbed We wouldn’t get around to do anything For the two of us Are of the same kind We can’t get music out of us Or each other Coz we are no guitars And we won’t have them Or anything else But just each other Two guitar picks With the same lives Touch Smell Shape and design The only two unique That no one else can match That no one else can get And there we lie together in the corner No one to ruffle us Just left to ourselves And we lie there By our sides And we can’t play no music And we can’t strum a song Coz we are two guitar picks Without nothing else Without no guitars But only ourselves Which is just so ****** incomplete And so imperfect So mighty beautiful..
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66
Dream You chose to and you believed Now look at your ship all wrecked Yet somehow you're alive The seas have been calm but still ruffle every now and then. Though the ashes of my dreams still scatter everywhere each time I remem.. Her... Such a beautiful face I've seen and it's one that's different compared to the others. She left me though just the others along time ago. Soon I'll be up and running again so will the others But we are dreams who've been here in the clearance aisle Waiting to be shaken...
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May 27, 2018
May 27, 2018 at 9:57 PM UTC
Boats on Display
The Billboard Music Awards took over Las Vegas last night as the celebs rocked it on the carpet and on the stage. However, there were more than a few music stars who just missed the mark when it came to the fashion. From the barely there gowns to the colorful messes that caught everyone’s eye, and not in a good way. The Billboard Music Awards fashion is usually something to praise, however this year things took a turn for worse. These lucky celebrities top our list of biggest fashion fails from the billboard music awards. Mariah Carey chose to show it off in a cleavage baring illusion dress. Hailee Steinfeld’s embraced her girly side in a black and white ruffle number. The whole Fifth Harmony clan completely failed in their black, white and yellow matching outfits. Britney Spears covered it all up in an ill-fitting, long, sparkly gown. And Dencia’s outfit was a messy rainbow that had everyone staring. It seems like some of the stars got dressed in the dark or just completely forgot to look in the mirror before stepping out on the red carpet.
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May 19, 2015
May 19, 2015 at 3:44 AM UTC
Biggest Fashion Fails from the Billboard Music Awards
I On a little piece of wood, Mr. Spikky Sparrow stood; Mrs. Sparrow sate close by, A-making of an insect pie, For her little children five, In the nest and all alive, Singing with a cheerful smile To amuse them all the while, Twikky wikky wikky wee, Wikky bikky twikky tee, Spikky bikky bee! II Mrs. Spikky Sparrow said, 'Spikky, Darling! in my head 'Many thoughts of trouble come, 'Like to flies upon a plum! 'All last night, among the trees, 'I heard you cough, I heard you sneeze; 'And, thought I, it's come to that 'Because he does not wear a hat! 'Chippy wippy sikky tee! 'Bikky wikky tikky mee! 'Spikky chippy wee! III 'Not that you are growing old, 'But the nights are growing cold. 'No one stays out all night long 'Without a hat: I'm sure it's wrong!' Mr. Spikky said 'How kind, 'Dear! you are, to speak your mind! 'All your life I wish you luck! 'You are! you are! a lovely duck! 'Witchy witchy witchy wee! 'Twitchy witchy witchy bee! Tikky tikky tee! IV 'I was also sad, and thinking, 'When one day I saw you winking, 'And I heard you sniffle-snuffle, 'And I saw your feathers ruffle; 'To myself I sadly said, 'She's neuralgia in her head! 'That dear head has nothing on it! 'Ought she not to wear a bonnet? 'Witchy kitchy kitchy wee? 'Spikky wikky mikky bee? 'Chippy wippy chee? V 'Let us both fly up to town! 'There I'll buy you such a gown! 'Which, completely in the fashion, 'You shall tie a sky-blue sash on. 'And a pair of slippers neat, 'To fit your darling little feet, 'So that you will look and feel, 'Quite galloobious and genteel! 'Jikky wikky bikky see, 'Chicky bikky wikky bee, 'Twikky witchy wee!' VI So they both to London went, Alighting on the Monument, Whence they flew down swiftly--pop, Into Moses' wholesale shop; There they bought a hat and bonnet, And a gown with spots upon it, A satin sash of Cloxam blue, And a pair of slippers too. Zikky wikky mikky bee, Witchy witchy mitchy kee, Sikky tikky wee. VII Then when so completely drest, Back they flew and reached their nest. Their children cried, 'O Ma and Pa! 'How truly beautiful you are!' Said they, 'We trust that cold or pain 'We shall never feel again! 'While, perched on tree, or house, or steeple, 'We now shall look like other people. 'Witchy witchy witchy wee, 'Twikky mikky bikky bee, Zikky sikky tee.'
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3.5k
Mr. And Mrs. Spikky Sparrow
I On a little piece of wood, Mr. Spikky Sparrow stood; Mrs. Sparrow sate close by, A-making of an insect pie, For her little children five, In the nest and all alive, Singing with a cheerful smile To amuse them all the while, Twikky wikky wikky wee, Wikky bikky twikky tee, Spikky bikky bee! II Mrs. Spikky Sparrow said, 'Spikky, Darling! in my head 'Many thoughts of trouble come, 'Like to flies upon a plum! 'All last night, among the trees, 'I heard you cough, I heard you sneeze; 'And, thought I, it's come to that 'Because he does not wear a hat! 'Chippy wippy sikky tee! 'Bikky wikky tikky mee! 'Spikky chippy wee! III 'Not that you are growing old, 'But the nights are growing cold. 'No one stays out all night long 'Without a hat: I'm sure it's wrong!' Mr. Spikky said 'How kind, 'Dear! you are, to speak your mind! 'All your life I wish you luck! 'You are! you are! a lovely duck! 'Witchy witchy witchy wee! 'Twitchy witchy witchy bee! Tikky tikky tee! IV 'I was also sad, and thinking, 'When one day I saw you winking, 'And I heard you sniffle-snuffle, 'And I saw your feathers ruffle; 'To myself I sadly said, 'She's neuralgia in her head! 'That dear head has nothing on it! 'Ought she not to wear a bonnet? 'Witchy kitchy kitchy wee? 'Spikky wikky mikky bee? 'Chippy wippy chee? V 'Let us both fly up to town! 'There I'll buy you such a gown! 'Which, completely in the fashion, 'You shall tie a sky-blue sash on. 'And a pair of slippers neat, 'To fit your darling little feet, 'So that you will look and feel, 'Quite galloobious and genteel! 'Jikky wikky bikky see, 'Chicky bikky wikky bee, 'Twikky witchy wee!' VI So they both to London went, Alighting on the Monument, Whence they flew down swiftly--pop, Into Moses' wholesale shop; There they bought a hat and bonnet, And a gown with spots upon it, A satin sash of Cloxam blue, And a pair of slippers too. Zikky wikky mikky bee, Witchy witchy mitchy kee, Sikky tikky wee. VII Then when so completely drest, Back they flew and reached their nest. Their children cried, 'O Ma and Pa! 'How truly beautiful you are!' Said they, 'We trust that cold or pain 'We shall never feel again! 'While, perched on tree, or house, or steeple, 'We now shall look like other people. 'Witchy witchy witchy wee, 'Twikky mikky bikky bee, Zikky sikky tee.'
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84
once someone asked me what my favorite flower was i told them, "a dandelion" they looked confused for a moment before i told them why i like dandelions because not only are they cute and fluffy [hehe] they're also weeds found in every day places nothing special but i love them and for me i will always think of them as little wishes running around crazy in the garden as a child, if you blew it all away in one breath then you got a wish now every time i see one of those cute fluffy, light everyday weeds i smile as i bend down to pluck it gently trying not to ruffle it too much i draw in a breath and watch as the segments go flying dawdling through the air and i make a wish on that flyaway dandelion
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Jun 17, 2013
Jun 17, 2013 at 5:08 AM UTC
flyaway dandelion
She's a star-charged satellite see how she orbits her restricted space. Uncountable revolutions so precise her ambition could burn a toe-sized hole in the boards. She never misses the point, if she did, her trajectory would send her way off course toppling  supporting roles, crashing into the wings to a ruffle of tutus, unfurling her celebrated petals from a tangle of tulle. But imagined misfortune will not befall her, she's perfection to the point of exhaustion and the likelihood of crashing is a million curtain-calls away. Her performance is flawless and the only impact will be on her enraptured audience. copyright © Caroline Grace 2011
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Sep 14, 2011
Sep 14, 2011 at 12:50 PM UTC
Prima Ballerina.
It's year 2050 Every human was born with a symbol etched onto their skin. you may be asking what do the symbols represent? Each symbol is an indicator of your inevitable death. I am Cole Adams and I've been an outcast my entire life and its sad since I am merely 17 years old. My symbol has a gun and its very uncommon especially since I've never seen a red gun symbol before, which is confusing. We grow up accepting our death and understanding it can be horrible, or for instance if your symbol is a bed, you die in our sleep. The people in my school who have the bed symbol are 'popular' meanwhile loners like me who have the not so popular gun symbol OR symbol containing a lightning bult. Its the rare ones like us who are subjected to being laughed at, which I don't understand. Anyway I am just writing my story to explain my life. I was 15 years old and I had fallen madly in love with a nymphet gorgeous girl, the stained pink dye in her hair with her chipped black nails struck me, I never thought to fall for a girl quite as unique as her. I'm simple, brown hair brown eyes 5'7 and I never thought she would fall for me, but yet, she did. We had a beautiful teenage love. We lost our virginity to each other, and in our world its not common to lose it early, just because our deaths could happen anytime. Her symbol was the cancer zodiac sign, and it did mean the illness. It was uncommon for a girl with such a popular symbol to fall for a boy like me, but she loved me anyway. Her dark empty eyes glowed when she would look at me, she made me forget about my symbol, my thoughts would be gone around her. I loved her. 10 months in and she began to be distant, she didn't kiss my cheek and ruffle my hair. She didn't shoot off love signals as she once did. Her touch felt unknown. She fell for another person, she loved him like i've never seen before. I never would of thought my symbol meant suicide, but it did. With my last breath I still loved her, I loved her forever. This is my suicide note/ story of my life. I died on April 10th, 2051.
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Dec 2, 2013
Dec 2, 2013 at 3:19 PM UTC
Symbols
It's year 2050 Every human was born with a symbol etched onto their skin. you may be asking what do the symbols represent? Each symbol is an indicator of your inevitable death. I am Cole Adams and I've been an outcast my entire life and its sad since I am merely 17 years old. My symbol has a gun and its very uncommon especially since I've never seen a red gun symbol before, which is confusing. We grow up accepting our death and understanding it can be horrible, or for instance if your symbol is a bed, you die in our sleep. The people in my school who have the bed symbol are 'popular' meanwhile loners like me who have the not so popular gun symbol OR symbol containing a lightning bult. Its the rare ones like us who are subjected to being laughed at, which I don't understand. Anyway I am just writing my story to explain my life. I was 15 years old and I had fallen madly in love with a nymphet gorgeous girl, the stained pink dye in her hair with her chipped black nails struck me, I never thought to fall for a girl quite as unique as her. I'm simple, brown hair brown eyes 5'7 and I never thought she would fall for me, but yet, she did. We had a beautiful teenage love. We lost our virginity to each other, and in our world its not common to lose it early, just because our deaths could happen anytime. Her symbol was the cancer zodiac sign, and it did mean the illness. It was uncommon for a girl with such a popular symbol to fall for a boy like me, but she loved me anyway. Her dark empty eyes glowed when she would look at me, she made me forget about my symbol, my thoughts would be gone around her. I loved her. 10 months in and she began to be distant, she didn't kiss my cheek and ruffle my hair. She didn't shoot off love signals as she once did. Her touch felt unknown. She fell for another person, she loved him like i've never seen before. I never would of thought my symbol meant suicide, but it did. With my last breath I still loved her, I loved her forever. This is my suicide note/ story of my life. I died on April 10th, 2051.
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. . . pumpkin spice and everything nice. all the girls fall for your charm. uggs click three times to go home. a refreshing gulp of processed sugar accompany a nicholas sparks novel and future thunder thighs. mugs full of wonder and spite. 380 calories to tighten those leggings. smashing pumpkins for your pleasure, extra large sweater please! cream ****** dry from a tortured cow, whipped senselessly to the brim. our name scribbled onto your exterior, pronunciation awfully wrong. drip drop on the ruffle of your infinity scarf. this grande drink will make you largo. a pinch of nutmeg for satisfaction. but first, let me take a selfie. pumpkin spice and everything not so nice. . . .
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Dec 13, 2016
Dec 13, 2016 at 3:59 PM UTC
an ode to: the pumpkin spice latte
Your Clouds, judged be it pickled or disdain Have mostly trained your canaries to think Whether to ruffle more Feathers; Then feign Those Truest Notes dipped; And begroom your Mink For who could solve what your Tampered Mind spies Then translates such Harvest for a Desert To Good Sense cheer; From Truth becomes a Lie With Random Calls ring your Body to advert And whilst you do, any Cause to forget Those Taped Pioneers who endured your Phase Pray for your Interview; And chance to beget Which Startled Sweets was the Sweetest at base. Yet still Occupied to that Video owned Belittle what Possum's Cry now reknowned.
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Mar 13, 2013
Mar 13, 2013 at 2:38 AM UTC
SONNET TRIBUTE SUNDRY - SEVENTY-SEVEN - TOM DALEY
At Vernal equinox, the Sun crosses over the plane of the Earth’s equator and equalises the night and the day. Then will the Emerald Dragon awaken from his hibernation beneath the earth. Rising in the jade forests of Ghizhou, this yin creature transforms the cold, dead land. Primal and powerful, he gathers the Qi; melts the mountain snows to ribbons of fire igniting the frosty hillsides to growth, fuses each thing with verdant energy, revives again the seed, renews the bulb, sprouting tender shoots juice-rich and sap-full Shy blossoms set to bloom and burst with fruit Fresh scented breezes ruffle foliage maiden ferns shiver with their thrill and ****** Grasses and reeds bedewed and beryline, murmuring and humming low and dulcet, dancing and swaying at the river’s edge. Roots of every tree draw deep from the earth Magnolia and Frangipani breathe and pant out fragrant honeyed lusciousness Spring sparks and quickens, kicks and is alive. © M.L.Emmett
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Aug 16, 2016
Aug 16, 2016 at 5:38 AM UTC
Spring ~ The Element Wood
They say Ruffle Top! the in thing nowadays.. Hurriedly you went for shopping A pink Ruffle top.. gorgeous indeed.. splendid effect as you put it on... but oppss... do you look slimmer or larger? as it hangs off of the widest parts of you and all the slimmer parts are hidden a fashion prey once again fall to be victim of girly cuteness!
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Jun 11, 2013
Jun 11, 2013 at 10:39 PM UTC
Fashion Victim
Images float in-front of your eyes. Your hair flies in the wind, almost wild. You struggle with your skirt a little bit, Feeling glad that you wore shorts underneath. The wind can be heard even over the Honking of the cars, as it carries some Stray, withered leaves. The sky has darkened and you can smell the Freshness of grass over the smoke and Stink of ******* dumps in the open. The crows start flapping around in Choreographed committee and start cawing About the latest weather changes. It somehow doesn't surprise me that this Reminds you of countless others you Might know. The crows ruffle their feathers and Take shelter in predefined places. It is another rainy day amongst Billions of others that have occurred. To state the obvious, you have too Much time in your hands if you begin Describing another rainy day.
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Aug 6, 2012
Aug 6, 2012 at 7:54 AM UTC
Rainy Days
Your skills are no match for mine, so you try and censor me while I speak. You’re a fool waiting on the wrong block, I’m far from delicate or weak. My words will ruffle your feathers, you’ll be shocked by the way I behave. Then you’ll try to crush my passion, or think you can badger it away. You’ll soon learn I’m not an easy target, my brazenness is here to stay. My strong will won’t be corrupted, I was born standing up and unafraid.
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Sep 27, 2017
Sep 27, 2017 at 9:34 PM UTC
Unafraid
Be patient, it might take some time. Just, let it build up. Don't uncross’em it will feel awesome. You should know yourself, what works best, rolling or rocking? Don't think about it, just relax. Use some muscle, the one between your legs. Hussle; ruffle and tussle, it’s like trying to make a puzzle fit; sometimes you gotta wiggle it a bit, a little bit.What’s wrong, you looked puzzled? You red, so into it. lights out; so intimate. Now try feeling between the lines, you have to focus a bit. Forget what you read; and what's been said; you won’t go blind, it’s all in your head. The only time you should lose site, is when you re-sight this vision in your head; closed eyes, on your loveseat, sofa or bed. Just repeat it in your head, like Simon said. **** around and hit the right button, you might wet the bed. My sign language tracing over your lips, repeating what I said. First come, first serve; you can't be beat. Just, listen to my voice, follow my lead. See, you don’t need to see men, to succeed, you got me.So. take your time, no rush. Relax, match your breathing with mine. slow, down, take your time.Touch your fingertip, to your little tip, and grind- press down harder, yeah, that is it.. Pause, fast, forward, left, right; rewind. Now, do all if that, one more time. But first, lick your fingertip, so your ******** rise and shine, glitterish. Your index, just slide, inside you appendix, cause I penned it; very specific. Here's another tip; curl your fingers, like a tongue would flick your upper lip - the thought alone should make you flip. Now your ******* soaking wet, that's my favorite. Just use your imagination; then go for it! Your heart will skip. Pace yourself, you can't cheat. Sped up your hearts rate, to your beat. You might have left a note to yourself, but I’m the one that wrote it all over your sheets!
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May 3, 2014
May 3, 2014 at 12:37 PM UTC
The Silent Language
Be patient, it might take some time. Just, let it build up. Don't uncross’em it will feel awesome. You should know yourself, what works best, rolling or rocking? Don't think about it, just relax. Use some muscle, the one between your legs. Hussle; ruffle and tussle, it’s like trying to make a puzzle fit; sometimes you gotta wiggle it a bit, a little bit.What’s wrong, you looked puzzled? You red, so into it. lights out; so intimate. Now try feeling between the lines, you have to focus a bit. Forget what you read; and what's been said; you won’t go blind, it’s all in your head. The only time you should lose site, is when you re-sight this vision in your head; closed eyes, on your loveseat, sofa or bed. Just repeat it in your head, like Simon said. **** around and hit the right button, you might wet the bed. My sign language tracing over your lips, repeating what I said. First come, first serve; you can't be beat. Just, listen to my voice, follow my lead. See, you don’t need to see men, to succeed, you got me.So. take your time, no rush. Relax, match your breathing with mine. slow, down, take your time.Touch your fingertip, to your little tip, and grind- press down harder, yeah, that is it.. Pause, fast, forward, left, right; rewind. Now, do all if that, one more time. But first, lick your fingertip, so your ******** rise and shine, glitterish. Your index, just slide, inside you appendix, cause I penned it; very specific. Here's another tip; curl your fingers, like a tongue would flick your upper lip - the thought alone should make you flip. Now your ******* soaking wet, that's my favorite. Just use your imagination; then go for it! Your heart will skip. Pace yourself, you can't cheat. Sped up your hearts rate, to your beat. You might have left a note to yourself, but I’m the one that wrote it all over your sheets!
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1
there is another big world I keep in the small space of my room; my dreams tucked by board pins, some letters stashed by paper clips, notes of joy, laughter, little sadness inside the yellow-turned diary pages, some secret souvenirs of good time kept neatly hidden in my wardrobe, few oblivious scribbles on window pane, old leaf, dry roses, ink, wall art, gadgets, glad that I have taken care of them always, like cherished treasures of mine. the bright and the dark equally welcome, wind and whispers settle swiftly in moonlight, by my bedside, where many stories sit, which I read or heard many many times. whistles from some star ruffle my hair, remind me of the times of love and talks, I look out of the window, into the open, where vivid memories glitter in the sky.
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Sep 21, 2012
Sep 21, 2012 at 7:31 AM UTC
My room
I am here to Ruffle feathers Rock boats Start fires Put them out Fight the status quo Yearn to taste Long hot days And sultry nights Be the heat When there is chill in the air I am Fierce And Gentle Passionate And Compassionate Willing to listen Willing to act Fear is just a story I will no longer tell myself
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Jan 4, 2011
Jan 4, 2011 at 8:41 AM UTC
Fearless
STROLLING OUT OF TUNE When the wind blows round it swirls and sweeps memories of what was once there, thoughts of an old song take longer and longer to repair Began toe tapping almost adding in the clapping but would rather arise maybe explore to find a new prize Stuck in a cerebral gap this tune may take a map,keeping digging in try to place that gorgeous groove Set off out the door to not be a bore, soon found myself pacing in time to some hidden rhyme ,waiting for it to arise Birds and buses beginning to chirp and hum adding their part, as I try to pick up more clues Taking it in stride feeling this may be a long stroll,that unknown elegy will be a nice surprise Rambling again, smooth echoes entering my mind hopefully helping to harmonize my next muse Making the next strut to remove muzak from that rut, picking it up a key or two will surely bring brightness to my eyes Lost lyrics lingering ,slowly letting go of that *********  guitar maybe a banjo or dobro waiting with a new lick to diffuse Back to the trail humming along listening to the sky's to drop that song,so will this shuffle bring a new ruffle or just be for the exercise Again set to travel as the sonnets unravel,  hoping that bebop will be part of the hop desiring the dancing, breaking into upbeat prancing finally finding that new melody will be the best news. R..C.
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Jul 23, 2018
Jul 23, 2018 at 8:25 AM UTC
STROLLING OUT OF TUNE
”Don’t look!”, mother said “It’s not for your eyes to see” So it sat there, that little red box in-between curiosity and me “Be a good boy and put it down promise to never open the lid, You never un-see, or undo a memory, you wish you never did” I traced the edge, gave it a shake and placed upon it my ear listening what may mysteriously make that ruffle from what I could hear So I sat a lot, wondering what could possibly be inside It’s only a peak, I’m much too weak my conscience I cannot hide It can’t hurt, no one will know after all, it’s just a little look I’ll open and close, see how it goes no harm, just like a book tempting as is, a ‘sorry’ can’t fix I wish to have kept my word when mother was gone and I, with the box alone peeped in and out flew a bird
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Feb 8, 2022
Feb 8, 2022 at 6:27 AM UTC
The Box
Breeze of the night in gentler sighs More softly murmur o’er the pillow; For Slumber seals my Fanny’s eyes, And Peace must never shun her pillow. Or breathe those sweet æolian strains Stolen from celestial spheres above, To charm her ear while some remains, And soothe her soul to dreams of love. But Breeze of night again forbear, In softest murmurs only sigh: Let not a Zephyr’s pinion dare To lift those auburn locks on high. Chill is thy Breath, thou breeze of night! Oh! ruffle not those lids of Snow; For only Morning’s cheering light May wake the beam that lurks below. Blest be that lip and azure eye! Sweet ***** hallowed be thy Sleep! Those lips shall never vent a sigh, Those eyes may never wake to weep.
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2.1k
Song (Breeze Of The Night In Gentler Sighs)
I wish to ruffle your hair feed you stuff hear you sing be wrapped in your arms and kiss your lips
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Apr 22, 2014
Apr 22, 2014 at 8:09 AM UTC
Wishes