"sequels" poems - Hello Poetry

"sequels" poems

Smash, slash, and if you're a noob you spam. Video Games the most interactive experience ever, it brings out the best and worst out of all of us. Combos and controls to study, instead of trying to study for an upcoming test. Some people say video games turns your brain into mush, but studies show that video games actually help people in the real world. Oh how I love video games they let me experience things outside can't, and even though movie versions of games aren't that good, I never usually get disappointed with sequels. Video games create more than fun times, they have also helped create my identity. So thank you video games for making me who I am.

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Jun 5, 2015

Jun 5, 2015 at 4:04 PM UTC

Smash, slash, and if you're a noob you spam. Video Games the most interactive experience ever, it brings out the best and worst out of all of us. Combos and controls to study, instead of trying to study for an upcoming test. Some people say video games turns your brain into mush, but studies show that video games actually help people in the real world. Oh how I love video games they let me experience things outside can't, and even though movie versions of games aren't that good, I never usually get disappointed with sequels. Video games create more than fun times, they have also helped create my identity. So thank you video games for making me who I am.

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They say the pen is mightier than the sword If this is true then God was the sword and you were a pen And I was the pencil who laid you a foundation of erased mistakes only for you to trace upon them as if they didn't exist. And I was cast in the bottom of some cluttered bag while you were gently capped and placed in a box lined with blue silk, And you knew I would always be there to test the waters before you spilled the pages with your brash delicacy. But you needed me and I craved you for completion. Together we created sweeping illustrations and lengthy novels with dozens of sequels. We depicted a tale of modern love in our ball-pointed journey. But my graphite stayed intact while your ink started to run out. I could see as our pages unfolded that your colors no longer spread as boldly. You became more and more invisible as I desperately etched harder and harder into every page hoping to give you clearer guidelines but you no longer had it in you. And soon enough we couldn't make anything beautiful. You had run out. And I'm still hopelessly drawing maps desperate that you can regain what you once had and use the indentations on previously blank pages to find your way back to me.

0

Feb 17, 2015

Feb 17, 2015 at 11:11 PM UTC

They say the pen is mightier than the sword If this is true then God was the sword and you were a pen And I was the pencil who laid you a foundation of erased mistakes only for you to trace upon them as if they didn't exist. And I was cast in the bottom of some cluttered bag while you were gently capped and placed in a box lined with blue silk, And you knew I would always be there to test the waters before you spilled the pages with your brash delicacy. But you needed me and I craved you for completion. Together we created sweeping illustrations and lengthy novels with dozens of sequels. We depicted a tale of modern love in our ball-pointed journey. But my graphite stayed intact while your ink started to run out. I could see as our pages unfolded that your colors no longer spread as boldly. You became more and more invisible as I desperately etched harder and harder into every page hoping to give you clearer guidelines but you no longer had it in you. And soon enough we couldn't make anything beautiful. You had run out. And I'm still hopelessly drawing maps desperate that you can regain what you once had and use the indentations on previously blank pages to find your way back to me.

Continue reading...

By Arcassin Burnham Gotta wipe off the seat , sanitation is key, Squeaky clean future if you make it soon, Skipping that class in the bathroom, Be on the phone in the bathroom, Taking those pills in the bathroom, Ladies look good in the bathroom, Not that I spy on the girls room, Teenagers have *** in the bathroom, Pick on other kids in the bathroom, Gather bearings in the bathroom, Gotta wipe off the seat , sanitation is key, Squeaky clean future if you make it soon, Treasures , treasures , they fill the hearts of these people, Disguised as greed, It never ends , there are still more sequels, Pushing and pulling emotions and boundaries, Can't be weak in this world ,set in every country, **** on the government in the bathroom.

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Sep 24, 2018

Sep 24, 2018 at 1:53 AM UTC

arcassin-burnham

By Arcassin Burnham Gotta wipe off the seat , sanitation is key, Squeaky clean future if you make it soon, Skipping that class in the bathroom, Be on the phone in the bathroom, Taking those pills in the bathroom, Ladies look good in the bathroom, Not that I spy on the girls room, Teenagers have *** in the bathroom, Pick on other kids in the bathroom, Gather bearings in the bathroom, Gotta wipe off the seat , sanitation is key, Squeaky clean future if you make it soon, Treasures , treasures , they fill the hearts of these people, Disguised as greed, It never ends , there are still more sequels, Pushing and pulling emotions and boundaries, Can't be weak in this world ,set in every country, **** on the government in the bathroom.

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The US will drive like the rest of the world, And declare peace on the Middle East for all times ahead; Good ﬁlms and books will be successful; And punk’s not dead. Justin Bieber will bottom all the charts; Pink Floyd'll be back together; Bond will like his martinis stirred, not shaken; Race, gender, class and orientation will be nonsense words; And there’ll be no sequels to Taken. Teenagers will fawn reading Tolstoy and not Meyer; Old, black men will order the "extra whip, non-fat, caramel latte, venti;" Art galleries will be closed to people over 21; And poets will feature in the Top 20. There will be equal jobs and opportunities for everyone; Humans will give up on colonising mars and the moon; We will bring down the imperialistic, capitalist, racist, misogynistic hetero-patriarchy; And you will love me, tonight at noon.

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Feb 20, 2016

Feb 20, 2016 at 8:36 AM UTC

In our Alternate Universe

The US will drive like the rest of the world, And declare peace on the Middle East for all times ahead; Good ﬁlms and books will be successful; And punk’s not dead. Justin Bieber will bottom all the charts; Pink Floyd'll be back together; Bond will like his martinis stirred, not shaken; Race, gender, class and orientation will be nonsense words; And there’ll be no sequels to Taken. Teenagers will fawn reading Tolstoy and not Meyer; Old, black men will order the "extra whip, non-fat, caramel latte, venti;" Art galleries will be closed to people over 21; And poets will feature in the Top 20. There will be equal jobs and opportunities for everyone; Humans will give up on colonising mars and the moon; We will bring down the imperialistic, capitalist, racist, misogynistic hetero-patriarchy; And you will love me, tonight at noon.

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I once talked of endings, Like beginnings I couldn't see, Like new adventures to be taken, Like half a chance to flee. I once talked of endings, Like the story I can't tell, Like the future out or reach, Like a legend I know well. I once talked of endings, Like the drink in my glass, Like waiting for a refill, Like a glorified restart. I once talked of endings, But I won't anymore, Too many times I've missed out, Because I slammed and locked the door. I was always afraid of endings, So I painted my own sequels, To hide the fact that all I wanted, Was to turn the page.

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Jun 1, 2016

Jun 1, 2016 at 10:48 PM UTC

parsavagely-kompenere

Talking of endings

I once talked of endings, Like beginnings I couldn't see, Like new adventures to be taken, Like half a chance to flee. I once talked of endings, Like the story I can't tell, Like the future out or reach, Like a legend I know well. I once talked of endings, Like the drink in my glass, Like waiting for a refill, Like a glorified restart. I once talked of endings, But I won't anymore, Too many times I've missed out, Because I slammed and locked the door. I was always afraid of endings, So I painted my own sequels, To hide the fact that all I wanted, Was to turn the page.

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My imagination is always there, drawing pictures for other bits of my brain to see what it means And what's gleaned helps me to think of things, Like now, when I can't think of what to say He'll think of something right and I'll probably ignore it Because I usually don't take advice, Especially from you, you trickster He's always making me laugh at the wrong times, In the street replaying a youtube video of a man accidentally washing his hands in a festival ****** "Don't think of it now you'll make me look homicidal" And then my imagination would put it on And my laugh became tidal, trying not to laugh is the hardest thing to hide of all... But he did come up with a way to make me look smooth instead now if he makes me laugh he wraps an imaginary bluetooth to pretend to be on round my head I like it when you tell me stories when I go to sleep, sometimes they are too exciting and I can't sleep but I like that too, and when you make dreams especially if they follow on from the previous stories, I love sequels it's funny how they never end except with death, and even then maybe it's just that part's not been released yet when I was younger you used to scare me in the dark With bit's of scary films and in the sea with a shark that you got from Jaws (You were a bit of a ******* that way) but often we would get on and we would play war games and car racing imagined killings and engines sounds whilst chasing in the playground, We don't do that now We've changed there's stranger things to be seen in the clouds these days I hope you don't mind If we finish this rhyme but I'm worried for the things you might say.

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Sep 30, 2013

Sep 30, 2013 at 10:56 AM UTC

anomalous-anonymous

My imagination is always there, drawing pictures for other bits of my brain to see what it means And what's gleaned helps me to think of things, Like now, when I can't think of what to say He'll think of something right and I'll probably ignore it Because I usually don't take advice, Especially from you, you trickster He's always making me laugh at the wrong times, In the street replaying a youtube video of a man accidentally washing his hands in a festival ****** "Don't think of it now you'll make me look homicidal" And then my imagination would put it on And my laugh became tidal, trying not to laugh is the hardest thing to hide of all... But he did come up with a way to make me look smooth instead now if he makes me laugh he wraps an imaginary bluetooth to pretend to be on round my head I like it when you tell me stories when I go to sleep, sometimes they are too exciting and I can't sleep but I like that too, and when you make dreams especially if they follow on from the previous stories, I love sequels it's funny how they never end except with death, and even then maybe it's just that part's not been released yet when I was younger you used to scare me in the dark With bit's of scary films and in the sea with a shark that you got from Jaws (You were a bit of a ******* that way) but often we would get on and we would play war games and car racing imagined killings and engines sounds whilst chasing in the playground, We don't do that now We've changed there's stranger things to be seen in the clouds these days I hope you don't mind If we finish this rhyme but I'm worried for the things you might say.

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**Inspired by Meg Cranston's Artist for President (http://www.uniteddivas.com/megcranston/megpresident.html)** We assert that there is a youth culture that is different and separate from all other cultures and that our culture is governed by principles which the aged population finds peculiar or offensive. We are tired of being labeled. We are tired of being segmented. We are tired of hearing old people talk about us. We are tired of being the respondents to your 20 city questionnaire. We are done with being ignored. We are sick of 1980s spandex. We are sick of your Top 40 hits on a compact disc. We are sick of your rom-coms and big budget fantasy sci-fi sequels. We are sick of 60 billion ad messages being hurled from satellites in outer space. We are done with being disappointed. We demand the right to change everything. We demand the right to create our own words. We demand the right to define what is cool in the morning. We demand the right to re-define what is cool in the evening. We are done with being told to follow. We reserve the right to be elitist. We reserve the right to choose our heroes. We reserve the right to create jobs that never existed before. We reserve the right to outsource, open-source and crowdsource everything and all. We are done with your rigid ways. We condemn the wars that you started. We condemn the poverty and hunger you created. We condemn your irresponsibility in ignoring our dying planet. We condemn the forces of greed that keeps an honest man from climbing the income brackets. We will fix the mess you left behind. This is for school kids This is for college students This is for young professionals This is for the young artist who shares his creations on DeviantArt This is for the young blogger who dreams of being a travel journalist This is for the podcaster who is on her way to become a successful RJ This is for the YouTube user who dreams of her own television show and feature film This is for the photography enthusiast who spends his pocket money on a Flickr Pro Account This is for the opinionated Twitter-for-Blackberry addict destined to become a Twitter celebrity. (Even we don’t know what that means!) This is for the coding guru who gifts his geek friend a mobile gaming app based on Dungeons & Dragons for his birthday. Yes that is cool...for now. This is youth culture

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Jul 30, 2010

Jul 30, 2010 at 2:24 PM UTC

freddie-benjamin

Youth for President

**Inspired by Meg Cranston's Artist for President (http://www.uniteddivas.com/megcranston/megpresident.html)** We assert that there is a youth culture that is different and separate from all other cultures and that our culture is governed by principles which the aged population finds peculiar or offensive. We are tired of being labeled. We are tired of being segmented. We are tired of hearing old people talk about us. We are tired of being the respondents to your 20 city questionnaire. We are done with being ignored. We are sick of 1980s spandex. We are sick of your Top 40 hits on a compact disc. We are sick of your rom-coms and big budget fantasy sci-fi sequels. We are sick of 60 billion ad messages being hurled from satellites in outer space. We are done with being disappointed. We demand the right to change everything. We demand the right to create our own words. We demand the right to define what is cool in the morning. We demand the right to re-define what is cool in the evening. We are done with being told to follow. We reserve the right to be elitist. We reserve the right to choose our heroes. We reserve the right to create jobs that never existed before. We reserve the right to outsource, open-source and crowdsource everything and all. We are done with your rigid ways. We condemn the wars that you started. We condemn the poverty and hunger you created. We condemn your irresponsibility in ignoring our dying planet. We condemn the forces of greed that keeps an honest man from climbing the income brackets. We will fix the mess you left behind. This is for school kids This is for college students This is for young professionals This is for the young artist who shares his creations on DeviantArt This is for the young blogger who dreams of being a travel journalist This is for the podcaster who is on her way to become a successful RJ This is for the YouTube user who dreams of her own television show and feature film This is for the photography enthusiast who spends his pocket money on a Flickr Pro Account This is for the opinionated Twitter-for-Blackberry addict destined to become a Twitter celebrity. (Even we don’t know what that means!) This is for the coding guru who gifts his geek friend a mobile gaming app based on Dungeons & Dragons for his birthday. Yes that is cool...for now. This is youth culture

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See beyond the struggle is Hannibal eating the face of identity and smoldering the heart the repetition of bewildering sequels names that don't match and feelings that can't compare the original is the peak of a syndicate to steal where the prequel is death being left to, cult film destitution.

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Jul 18, 2011

Jul 18, 2011 at 2:02 AM UTC

See beyond the struggle is Hannibal eating the face of identity and smoldering the heart the repetition of bewildering sequels names that don't match and feelings that can't compare the original is the peak of a syndicate to steal where the prequel is death being left to, cult film destitution.

Continue reading...

#043016 He was a psychopath, But not like the lead of Sherlock Holmes. Maybe a scientist, But his name was not because of Einstein himself. Maybe a doctor, Not like Dr. Seuss who's a nature lover. Apparently, he's Professor X But he never was laid in his techy wheel chair. I saw Moriarty But he's like an agent, sort of a policeman. He died in a brutal story. How I wish he was a man as Moriarty himself. And Mary, she was arrogant Without a white aura of being a nurse. She's not a patient at all, Maybe it's her attitude though. Harry's hair I don't like. Sorry, not Harry Styles, I mean; Remember Hermione and Ron's friend? Yeah, that Potter sequels I once read all day long. His a wet-look chap and a hunchback. And Frankenstein himself tore his life into new, He fell in love with his co-actor in the circus. But I see no chemistry in them, Heights were not good at all. I wore no veil of movies leaked But some were simply bedtime story.

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Apr 29, 2016

Apr 29, 2016 at 1:12 PM UTC

#043016 He was a psychopath, But not like the lead of Sherlock Holmes. Maybe a scientist, But his name was not because of Einstein himself. Maybe a doctor, Not like Dr. Seuss who's a nature lover. Apparently, he's Professor X But he never was laid in his techy wheel chair. I saw Moriarty But he's like an agent, sort of a policeman. He died in a brutal story. How I wish he was a man as Moriarty himself. And Mary, she was arrogant Without a white aura of being a nurse. She's not a patient at all, Maybe it's her attitude though. Harry's hair I don't like. Sorry, not Harry Styles, I mean; Remember Hermione and Ron's friend? Yeah, that Potter sequels I once read all day long. His a wet-look chap and a hunchback. And Frankenstein himself tore his life into new, He fell in love with his co-actor in the circus. But I see no chemistry in them, Heights were not good at all. I wore no veil of movies leaked But some were simply bedtime story.

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Sometimes I feel like your story book The pages that you flip open on bad days To relive some sort of angst only to inevitably close and breathe a sigh of relief Knowing it is not your reality anymore And I am not real enough to you To inquire about the sequels The ones you haven't read But are drenched in the aftermath of your actions Living, breathing consequence Do you believe that I've forgiven you Because you've forgiven yourself? Because you are better now for someone else? Do you think I remember you fondly Because I am always so kind? And don't consider that, like you changed, maybe I have too? In a wave of nonchalance, You ask me how I am doing I want to ask if someone asked you to reach out Someone who knows me and may have guessed That I've had one of my fragile days And knows that I might be more susceptible To grace And I say I've been better since you ripped out my pages But I still have days when I wonder If you would have ever cared enough To do more than borrow me And return me here To this dusty shelf

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Oct 15, 2021

Oct 15, 2021 at 5:13 PM UTC

Sometimes I feel like your story book The pages that you flip open on bad days To relive some sort of angst only to inevitably close and breathe a sigh of relief Knowing it is not your reality anymore And I am not real enough to you To inquire about the sequels The ones you haven't read But are drenched in the aftermath of your actions Living, breathing consequence Do you believe that I've forgiven you Because you've forgiven yourself? Because you are better now for someone else? Do you think I remember you fondly Because I am always so kind? And don't consider that, like you changed, maybe I have too? In a wave of nonchalance, You ask me how I am doing I want to ask if someone asked you to reach out Someone who knows me and may have guessed That I've had one of my fragile days And knows that I might be more susceptible To grace And I say I've been better since you ripped out my pages But I still have days when I wonder If you would have ever cared enough To do more than borrow me And return me here To this dusty shelf

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You are killing your own people You are killing off our sequels ... You're dying If I told you that you'll be ok I will be lying ... On the ground with you We're united by a state of hysteria So pledge of allegiance to your own grievance if you want to Our allies realize our lack of participation within the United Nation They know that's it's a race of the racist It's hunger and starvation for ********** So they don't support our sport They don't get a kick out of our matrix Master the skill of being manipulative And maltreat our own citizens Who will have our back when we're getting attacked? For sure not the group of people who our history once beset Wait reset Why strain something that isn't our stress? Hold up quest! Consistent warfare give us a rest! Do we ever handle things professionally? There's pros and there's congress And according to our constitution It's precedent that every president Is only present Im a skeptic of their effectiveness They're just a face for this place A image so when things cringes We can look at him in disgrace Sometimes I think I've been misplaced ..... Misplaced Taken away and placed In this place full of waste Place full of wasted minds Place full of wasted minds who waste their time Place full of wasted minds who waste their time trying to waste everyone else's mind and keep others below their waist line United States of Hysteria Where you have to equip yourself with a personal barrier The superior preys The inferior pays And the wealth relays The baton get passed to relatives This is where you can cross the finish line first and still be without work So we pledge of allegiance With our right on our heart Stripes and stars is for Lashes and strikes to stun our awareness Our apprehension just blow effortlessly in the wind They cover their flaws The gover-meant to **** us all Is there a such thing as a war on war? We nuclear our own fears And air strike on our own tears Use Sub Atomic Bombs against our own peers Chemically engineer everyone who's mere All hail U.S.A All hell U.S.H

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Sep 1, 2013

Sep 1, 2013 at 9:42 PM UTC

United States of Hysteria

You are killing your own people You are killing off our sequels ... You're dying If I told you that you'll be ok I will be lying ... On the ground with you We're united by a state of hysteria So pledge of allegiance to your own grievance if you want to Our allies realize our lack of participation within the United Nation They know that's it's a race of the racist It's hunger and starvation for ********** So they don't support our sport They don't get a kick out of our matrix Master the skill of being manipulative And maltreat our own citizens Who will have our back when we're getting attacked? For sure not the group of people who our history once beset Wait reset Why strain something that isn't our stress? Hold up quest! Consistent warfare give us a rest! Do we ever handle things professionally? There's pros and there's congress And according to our constitution It's precedent that every president Is only present Im a skeptic of their effectiveness They're just a face for this place A image so when things cringes We can look at him in disgrace Sometimes I think I've been misplaced ..... Misplaced Taken away and placed In this place full of waste Place full of wasted minds Place full of wasted minds who waste their time Place full of wasted minds who waste their time trying to waste everyone else's mind and keep others below their waist line United States of Hysteria Where you have to equip yourself with a personal barrier The superior preys The inferior pays And the wealth relays The baton get passed to relatives This is where you can cross the finish line first and still be without work So we pledge of allegiance With our right on our heart Stripes and stars is for Lashes and strikes to stun our awareness Our apprehension just blow effortlessly in the wind They cover their flaws The gover-meant to **** us all Is there a such thing as a war on war? We nuclear our own fears And air strike on our own tears Use Sub Atomic Bombs against our own peers Chemically engineer everyone who's mere All hail U.S.A All hell U.S.H

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Too saddest to tell you today on this First Day of Spring my Daddy has his Birthday anyway he cannot sing not today nor tomorrow you'll ask me why? decennia ago he suddenly died not of any stroke nor heart-ache just wanna remember that Today just One Day after the Northward Equinox he'd have his celebrations never congratulations anymore now not today nor tomorrow this is not a poem just a statement a human document of one of the most gifted fathers aquarelles, poetry or feuilletons even performances at William's Theatre his weekly sequels of the loving and living Charlie Chan besides earning much money as the top-manager of STANVAC, Jakarta that big oil-office with the red Pegasus my Daddy climbed its back and never returned remembering his Birthday emotionally on his epitaph how odd The Start of Spring One Day Before his BirthDAY the annual Northward Equinox has just passed his graveyard keep smiling is not here today but grieving will be okay he'd be no more a part of all celebrations even though where he now is he remains my Dearest Daddy and all there is I remain, still with the greatest admiration and his part of heart still beats in mine.... Anno Domini 21 March 2018

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Mar 21, 2018

Mar 21, 2018 at 8:33 AM UTC

sylvia-frances-chan

Too saddest to tell you today on this First Day of Spring my Daddy has his Birthday anyway he cannot sing not today nor tomorrow you'll ask me why? decennia ago he suddenly died not of any stroke nor heart-ache just wanna remember that Today just One Day after the Northward Equinox he'd have his celebrations never congratulations anymore now not today nor tomorrow this is not a poem just a statement a human document of one of the most gifted fathers aquarelles, poetry or feuilletons even performances at William's Theatre his weekly sequels of the loving and living Charlie Chan besides earning much money as the top-manager of STANVAC, Jakarta that big oil-office with the red Pegasus my Daddy climbed its back and never returned remembering his Birthday emotionally on his epitaph how odd The Start of Spring One Day Before his BirthDAY the annual Northward Equinox has just passed his graveyard keep smiling is not here today but grieving will be okay he'd be no more a part of all celebrations even though where he now is he remains my Dearest Daddy and all there is I remain, still with the greatest admiration and his part of heart still beats in mine.... Anno Domini 21 March 2018

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We are, each of us, equals our stories capable of producing sequels Forged in the fires of love in the eyes of makers above every one, from the richest of all to the lonely weeper we are all equal in the eyes of the reaper. time has made us weak and the end is what we seek all of us, created the same whether or not we are bathed in fame from the mightiest beast to the birds of the feast we are all equal in the eyes of the reaper.

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Oct 12, 2013

Oct 12, 2013 at 3:17 AM UTC

All of us.... Equals...

We are, each of us, equals our stories capable of producing sequels Forged in the fires of love in the eyes of makers above every one, from the richest of all to the lonely weeper we are all equal in the eyes of the reaper. time has made us weak and the end is what we seek all of us, created the same whether or not we are bathed in fame from the mightiest beast to the birds of the feast we are all equal in the eyes of the reaper.

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i know we're in the same book. but yet to be on the same chapter, waiting for the other to be on the same page. i'll wait for you. not like a hopeless romeo, and definitely not like a juliet. i'll wait for you. even if it takes us volumes, sequels, prequels, and even a different author, for us to meet.

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Dec 16, 2016

Dec 16, 2016 at 12:00 AM UTC

i know we're in the same book. but yet to be on the same chapter, waiting for the other to be on the same page. i'll wait for you. not like a hopeless romeo, and definitely not like a juliet. i'll wait for you. even if it takes us volumes, sequels, prequels, and even a different author, for us to meet.

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it's funny how you pretend i was never there so quickly... i was a transparent terror in the tale of your existence. a dog-eared page stained with paper-cut streaks of blood & smeared ink between quotation marks. once you made it to the back cover you tossed it into the fireplace like it was a bookshelf, like it was always meant to be there. but i hope it turned to smoke so quickly & found a new home in your lungs & i hope you coughed those little bursts that i fell in love with at the beginning of every summer when your allergies kicked in. i want to write another book with you. no sequels. this is not a trilogy. a brand new branching plot where we just love relentlessly & forget religiously those other volumes us young authors hastily rushed to print. we know what people want to read now & we can be best sellers.

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Jun 28, 2012

Jun 28, 2012 at 11:25 AM UTC

books, authors.

it's funny how you pretend i was never there so quickly... i was a transparent terror in the tale of your existence. a dog-eared page stained with paper-cut streaks of blood & smeared ink between quotation marks. once you made it to the back cover you tossed it into the fireplace like it was a bookshelf, like it was always meant to be there. but i hope it turned to smoke so quickly & found a new home in your lungs & i hope you coughed those little bursts that i fell in love with at the beginning of every summer when your allergies kicked in. i want to write another book with you. no sequels. this is not a trilogy. a brand new branching plot where we just love relentlessly & forget religiously those other volumes us young authors hastily rushed to print. we know what people want to read now & we can be best sellers.

Continue reading...

takin my life day to day is really second to second as the character Wayne in this movie im filming i have characters out the *** full of laughs and tears from a cast widespread from my fam to my peers as the smoke clears i emerge from the lows to take stage throw bows and take aim for my prize waiting for me the one made by god no assembly required to be my leading lady and rule my loving heart unlike the others i casted they were good in some parts but in the end they couldnt hack it they got other scenes the girlfriends and the groupies two very important troops taught me how to lie and point out the truth on the lighter side of things lookin higher in my cast and crew my brothers and sisters all keep me pullin through this romantic drama with words and actions that spices things up adding comedy to the equation. everyone does their own stunts except the others i spoke on before it only happens in *** scenes so i shouldnt say more but **** it im grown in my movie its really my wife im making scratch and moan then the other girl re-appears once the lights come on and my wife is back sitting in the Producers chair waiting till her time for the shine of my spotlight from the wedding chimes till the end credit sign adding sequels to my life a little similar but different from mine Wayne III and Sydney will be the first two those movies will do numbers ill do a cameo with them too like Will and Jada imma have a Wonder Crew wit uncles and aunties who will love and cherish their nieces and nephews how ever many we have we dont have a number all we worried about is acting this movie out workin towards the gold happiness and unity till were nice and old and God yells CUT! our characters will die off but our story lives for infinity

0

Nov 7, 2010

Nov 7, 2010 at 2:57 AM UTC

wayne-pritchett

takin my life day to day is really second to second as the character Wayne in this movie im filming i have characters out the *** full of laughs and tears from a cast widespread from my fam to my peers as the smoke clears i emerge from the lows to take stage throw bows and take aim for my prize waiting for me the one made by god no assembly required to be my leading lady and rule my loving heart unlike the others i casted they were good in some parts but in the end they couldnt hack it they got other scenes the girlfriends and the groupies two very important troops taught me how to lie and point out the truth on the lighter side of things lookin higher in my cast and crew my brothers and sisters all keep me pullin through this romantic drama with words and actions that spices things up adding comedy to the equation. everyone does their own stunts except the others i spoke on before it only happens in *** scenes so i shouldnt say more but **** it im grown in my movie its really my wife im making scratch and moan then the other girl re-appears once the lights come on and my wife is back sitting in the Producers chair waiting till her time for the shine of my spotlight from the wedding chimes till the end credit sign adding sequels to my life a little similar but different from mine Wayne III and Sydney will be the first two those movies will do numbers ill do a cameo with them too like Will and Jada imma have a Wonder Crew wit uncles and aunties who will love and cherish their nieces and nephews how ever many we have we dont have a number all we worried about is acting this movie out workin towards the gold happiness and unity till were nice and old and God yells CUT! our characters will die off but our story lives for infinity

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Doing escapades is just not enough for you. You make sequels to previous mistakes and just like films, they get worse and worse.

0

Sep 10, 2014

Sep 10, 2014 at 4:57 PM UTC

Doing escapades is just not enough for you. You make sequels to previous mistakes and just like films, they get worse and worse.

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you are a bathtub of balloons. lines of tears angels left on the counter above the cabinet your prescribed reasons used to stay. a hot shower away, from fixing your lovers face with teeth cut lips. blaming the steam for all the red in your half truths. teachings of sorcery mothers enchant their wombs in. a lesson to the future of how destiny was born tied to something greater. two fingers looked for god in the galaxy between your legs. an altered state of awareness passed around like the last hit everyone wants. you are 'fuck it' you are 'fuck me' you are 'fuck this' a function unto yourself, embraced unashamedly by passion. you are ******* revelry. politeness tiptoes at the edge of your spirit, tamed tirelessly through stares and the longing of freedom. you do not have the keys. we are candor, casually exchanging giggles at fear's table; ravaging silliness naked. splendor sprawling back, upwards to you and i. i, a gang of sighs and of panting. a church of wonder; a held promise of sequels. together our names produce dua; an etched ancient time. society: a middle finger we **** rigorously. the lust of nations who dared before us and are yet to come. we lived in visions. a moment from forever will appear, with us deemed illegal. chests pressed to eternity, the melody will thud thud thud risks are for lovers.

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Jul 27, 2014

Jul 27, 2014 at 5:46 PM UTC

mpumelelo-msomi

the secret of us

you are a bathtub of balloons. lines of tears angels left on the counter above the cabinet your prescribed reasons used to stay. a hot shower away, from fixing your lovers face with teeth cut lips. blaming the steam for all the red in your half truths. teachings of sorcery mothers enchant their wombs in. a lesson to the future of how destiny was born tied to something greater. two fingers looked for god in the galaxy between your legs. an altered state of awareness passed around like the last hit everyone wants. you are 'fuck it' you are 'fuck me' you are 'fuck this' a function unto yourself, embraced unashamedly by passion. you are ******* revelry. politeness tiptoes at the edge of your spirit, tamed tirelessly through stares and the longing of freedom. you do not have the keys. we are candor, casually exchanging giggles at fear's table; ravaging silliness naked. splendor sprawling back, upwards to you and i. i, a gang of sighs and of panting. a church of wonder; a held promise of sequels. together our names produce dua; an etched ancient time. society: a middle finger we **** rigorously. the lust of nations who dared before us and are yet to come. we lived in visions. a moment from forever will appear, with us deemed illegal. chests pressed to eternity, the melody will thud thud thud risks are for lovers.

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They always say, "the past repeats," but ours can never again. We were sworn together with knots, and bled together with needles and thorns. our window is closing on the 70 mph highway because too many bees flew into the car. Your batteries are dead and my charger is torn apart. Your nicotine breath has staled, and the fire's out of wood. We can try to write a new script, but sequels are never as good.

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May 27, 2015

May 27, 2015 at 11:38 PM UTC

cycle backwards, not double

They always say, "the past repeats," but ours can never again. We were sworn together with knots, and bled together with needles and thorns. our window is closing on the 70 mph highway because too many bees flew into the car. Your batteries are dead and my charger is torn apart. Your nicotine breath has staled, and the fire's out of wood. We can try to write a new script, but sequels are never as good.

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You are the only woman who could fill One of my notebooks In a run-on-sentence from cover to cover And still demand several sequels to ever be complete It’s like when you know a movie is your favorite Because it doesn’t get boring after a million viewings and Knowing every line is the best part You bring an ironic smile to my face every time I think of hand cramps or dead pens or insomnia pangs Worth the stiff muscles, you hardly waste the paper And I would rather describe the face of morning I have loved Than propose likeness with any concept I could dream In endless possibilities and with resources unlimited I would never find your equal, so why bother

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Apr 20, 2011

Apr 20, 2011 at 6:15 AM UTC

94. Equal 4/20/11

You are the only woman who could fill One of my notebooks In a run-on-sentence from cover to cover And still demand several sequels to ever be complete It’s like when you know a movie is your favorite Because it doesn’t get boring after a million viewings and Knowing every line is the best part You bring an ironic smile to my face every time I think of hand cramps or dead pens or insomnia pangs Worth the stiff muscles, you hardly waste the paper And I would rather describe the face of morning I have loved Than propose likeness with any concept I could dream In endless possibilities and with resources unlimited I would never find your equal, so why bother

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If we were books, I'd be spineless and you would be a paperback with a hardcover head. Page turner pretense turns to kisses and fifty shades of sequels. My life is an open book. You read?

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May 27, 2014

May 27, 2014 at 9:44 AM UTC

If we were books, I'd be spineless and you would be a paperback with a hardcover head. Page turner pretense turns to kisses and fifty shades of sequels. My life is an open book. You read?

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It's just not like that! There is no script, no director screaming Cut! *Now let's do it again this time, with meaning?* There is no early warning of subterfuge or lightly dropped, not so hidden clues No instantly in 'five minutes' guessed plots because all expectancy needs to fit inside a predetermined time slot There is no Boy meets Girl Girl hates Boy Boy doesn't understand why? Boy realises on page 106 why Girl hates him and spends 87 pages delving within his own psyche as he rides his motorbike on the edge of Life he will crash, most like Ever wonder why sequels are never "as good as the original" Because questions were answered at the end and everything that went unanswered never begged the question Of course, you say, it will never be just like a book or a movie or even those ****** 'Made for Television' series because each and every one is just a captured moment in time Depicting just one heartbeat out of so many millions that skittered out of line

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Feb 22, 2014

Feb 22, 2014 at 2:50 AM UTC

It's not like in the movies, or books, or even what's made for TV

It's just not like that! There is no script, no director screaming Cut! *Now let's do it again this time, with meaning?* There is no early warning of subterfuge or lightly dropped, not so hidden clues No instantly in 'five minutes' guessed plots because all expectancy needs to fit inside a predetermined time slot There is no Boy meets Girl Girl hates Boy Boy doesn't understand why? Boy realises on page 106 why Girl hates him and spends 87 pages delving within his own psyche as he rides his motorbike on the edge of Life he will crash, most like Ever wonder why sequels are never "as good as the original" Because questions were answered at the end and everything that went unanswered never begged the question Of course, you say, it will never be just like a book or a movie or even those ****** 'Made for Television' series because each and every one is just a captured moment in time Depicting just one heartbeat out of so many millions that skittered out of line

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darling your smile only draws tears from your eyes. allow me to steal a kiss. let us do our part as heaven and earth collides when a moment is met with bliss, feel God when all of your hurt subsides. a downpour will be the sounding peace.

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Feb 4, 2017

Feb 4, 2017 at 1:31 PM UTC

Sink... Float...

darling your smile only draws tears from your eyes. allow me to steal a kiss. let us do our part as heaven and earth collides when a moment is met with bliss, feel God when all of your hurt subsides. a downpour will be the sounding peace.

Continue reading...

I've had a life in the arms of peace; I've lived a life with a heart for love. I've been content in the themes of sorrow, And the seasons of delight. I've seen chapters start and end. I've completed numerous volumes, In the ink of tears and smiles; And moved onto sequels and new characters. -- My story is simple and incomplete-- It isn't a tale yet, just a work in progress. It lives in the fulfilment of my dreams; I wish to make it a masterpiece! I hope I succeed till my last season, Little by little, minute by minute... Living in the throes of vibrancy, Without regrets and with a hint of grace. I wish to grow into an oldie in that last winter, With a garden full of trees, each tree a completed story. And I hope I can remember my dreams as my life; Even at the end, I wish for the peace of fulfilment.

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Sep 18, 2014

Sep 18, 2014 at 6:41 PM UTC

About My Story (for Joe Cole's Challenge)

I've had a life in the arms of peace; I've lived a life with a heart for love. I've been content in the themes of sorrow, And the seasons of delight. I've seen chapters start and end. I've completed numerous volumes, In the ink of tears and smiles; And moved onto sequels and new characters. -- My story is simple and incomplete-- It isn't a tale yet, just a work in progress. It lives in the fulfilment of my dreams; I wish to make it a masterpiece! I hope I succeed till my last season, Little by little, minute by minute... Living in the throes of vibrancy, Without regrets and with a hint of grace. I wish to grow into an oldie in that last winter, With a garden full of trees, each tree a completed story. And I hope I can remember my dreams as my life; Even at the end, I wish for the peace of fulfilment.

Continue reading...