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"shenanigans" poems
talkshows and the yellow press get excited in excess over his shenanigans that delight his faithful fans rumors of these *** affairs strong words for all macho players      in the game of social thrones texts with threatening undertones      for minorities and women      treating immigrants like demons neither fans nor his opponents  seem to notice the components of the white house strategy      throw them bones      fodder for the yellow press and while  they fight clandestinely out of sight works the Trumpian policy   money laundering   blatant lies scolding allies   breaking ties adoring foes   praising those      usurpers of democracies      experts in atrocities slowly yet persistently      undermine  civility        with foul language  fill all courts with servile judges court the aristocracies           of oil sheikdoms in the East praising communist dictators who have helped him build his towers step by step he‘s leading US from the groups of international powers to an isolation desert at the margins of the world slogans we have rarely heard over decades         now re-nourished twittered with presidential flourish make America small again warning voices call in vain no wonder the statue of liberty is hiding her face in misery (*)
0
Jul 26, 2018
Jul 26, 2018 at 5:24 PM UTC
fake president
If you'd been here When I was young, You'd not forget What we'd have done. We'd climb roofs, Jump in the river, ****** neighbour's pears, Then skedaddle, Laughing with sweat-matted hair, Wiping off those grown-up cares. We'd bumper-jump in four inch snow, And never let our parents know. Oh, such fun we two would do, If I could stay as young as you. We'd skate and bike, Play street ball, Act up in school, Stand in the hall; We'd hike with jars Along country brooks, Read and trade Our comic books. Lie in the sand, Burn in the sun, Forgetting it was time for home. We'd never tire of our treats, And often we'd forget to eat Because we're having all our fun: If you'd been here when I was young. We'd play Tag and Red Rover, Flags and Chase, Then have sleep-overs. We'd swap tomorrow For daily pearls, Then swap each other For pretty girls. We'd be up to our shenanigans, Sleep the sleep, Then start again. This is the way We'd have our fun, If you'd been here When I was young. But now you're here, And I'm much older, The things we'd do You'll do with others; But when you need a  boost to climb, This old man has a shoulder. Yes, I'll sure have lots of fun, For you're here now. That keeps me young.
0
Aug 20, 2016
Aug 20, 2016 at 8:55 AM UTC
If You'd Been Here When I Was Young
Loyalty They talk about loyalty, Like it’s a fantasy, They talk about loyalty, But have no clue, what it means. They talk about equality, Like it’s currently happening, They talk about democracy, But have no clue, what it means. Glocks aimed at cops, Glocks aimed back at someone’s pop, Many lives have been lost over Gaup. Gaup that buys whips and thots. All got something to prove, But to who? All got something to lose, What will you choose? If money equal power, Than why is the taste so sour? After all the castles and ivory towers. You’re left a lonely dragon like bowser. Loyalty tell me what it means to me? To hang with royalty, Or help those in poverty. The place I used to be. Helping people like me. That society has coated with a cloak of invisibility. Because they can’t stand minorities. And that’s why we can’t stand authorities. A toxic cycle that stems from a different ideology. Instead of equality, We have uniformity, Instead of democracy, We have white supremacy. Instead of loyalty, We have hypocrisy. They talk about loyalty, Like it’s a fantasy, They talk about loyalty, But have no clue, what it means. They talk about equality, Like it’s currently happening, They talk about democracy, But have no clue, what it means. Too many broken promises, I feel like James Sie, Losing all his cabbages. But since we are deemed as savages, All the damages attributed, Are treated as shenanigans, Instead of answering calls to action, We have a government completely dumbfounded. Instead of compassion, We are harassed and hounded. We still got all lot of work to do. And I hope one day we’ll have a breakthrough! For we all got something to prove? But to who? Maybe for me or for you! All got something to lose, If we never take the time to put on another’s shoe. So, what will you choose? Will you help light the fuse? Or treat this issue like your alarm clock, And put in on snooze? Who will you be loyal to? Your heart? Or to your privilege? Hmm… They talk about loyalty, Like it’s a fantasy, They talk about loyalty, But have no clue, what it means. They talk about equality, Like it’s currently happening, They talk about democracy, But have no clue, what it means.
0
Jun 16, 2021
Jun 16, 2021 at 8:26 PM UTC
Loyalty
Loyalty They talk about loyalty, Like it’s a fantasy, They talk about loyalty, But have no clue, what it means. They talk about equality, Like it’s currently happening, They talk about democracy, But have no clue, what it means. Glocks aimed at cops, Glocks aimed back at someone’s pop, Many lives have been lost over Gaup. Gaup that buys whips and thots. All got something to prove, But to who? All got something to lose, What will you choose? If money equal power, Than why is the taste so sour? After all the castles and ivory towers. You’re left a lonely dragon like bowser. Loyalty tell me what it means to me? To hang with royalty, Or help those in poverty. The place I used to be. Helping people like me. That society has coated with a cloak of invisibility. Because they can’t stand minorities. And that’s why we can’t stand authorities. A toxic cycle that stems from a different ideology. Instead of equality, We have uniformity, Instead of democracy, We have white supremacy. Instead of loyalty, We have hypocrisy. They talk about loyalty, Like it’s a fantasy, They talk about loyalty, But have no clue, what it means. They talk about equality, Like it’s currently happening, They talk about democracy, But have no clue, what it means. Too many broken promises, I feel like James Sie, Losing all his cabbages. But since we are deemed as savages, All the damages attributed, Are treated as shenanigans, Instead of answering calls to action, We have a government completely dumbfounded. Instead of compassion, We are harassed and hounded. We still got all lot of work to do. And I hope one day we’ll have a breakthrough! For we all got something to prove? But to who? Maybe for me or for you! All got something to lose, If we never take the time to put on another’s shoe. So, what will you choose? Will you help light the fuse? Or treat this issue like your alarm clock, And put in on snooze? Who will you be loyal to? Your heart? Or to your privilege? Hmm… They talk about loyalty, Like it’s a fantasy, They talk about loyalty, But have no clue, what it means. They talk about equality, Like it’s currently happening, They talk about democracy, But have no clue, what it means.
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75
**We are a funny lot As in, seriously… we delve into ‘funny’ a lot Very rarely does a day go by That I don’t come across something that cracks my funny bone… Or as a Kenyan would put it ‘makes me just die!’ Body bag The Kenyan This specimen of human is always quick and capable of ridiculing anyone’s apparent "swag" Everyone gets a turn here… so do not huff when you’re ‘it’ There must be a reason you joined this dissing game… this unique Kenyan version of ‘tag’ Just remember The rules are simple, really Keep it above the belt, unless upon exception... They also clearly allow one to feign concession Yes, these rules highly encourage strategic deception Kind of like what our politicians do before the main election But also if you paint a target on your back… you will get shot at... By everyone… and I mean everyone I haven’t seen anyone do that and elude the social media firing squad yet Computers and phones in this case, acting as the internet's version of the bayonet And watch closely if you’re ‘it’… for the inevitable, the friends that will stab you in the back It’s bound to happen, as much as this may **** The memes will come by the truck load… in what may seem like a self driven truck… With a life of its own Just ask Susan Mirfat The most recently owned! We’re a funny lot I tell you Loose cannons almost Our leaders’ shenanigans, our parents’ semantics and our own clownish antics… Prove that despite… How mature as a country we've become… We’re still all just a bunch of children, inside.**
0
Feb 27, 2013
Feb 27, 2013 at 1:15 AM UTC
The Kenyan 'tag'...
**We are a funny lot As in, seriously… we delve into ‘funny’ a lot Very rarely does a day go by That I don’t come across something that cracks my funny bone… Or as a Kenyan would put it ‘makes me just die!’ Body bag The Kenyan This specimen of human is always quick and capable of ridiculing anyone’s apparent "swag" Everyone gets a turn here… so do not huff when you’re ‘it’ There must be a reason you joined this dissing game… this unique Kenyan version of ‘tag’ Just remember The rules are simple, really Keep it above the belt, unless upon exception... They also clearly allow one to feign concession Yes, these rules highly encourage strategic deception Kind of like what our politicians do before the main election But also if you paint a target on your back… you will get shot at... By everyone… and I mean everyone I haven’t seen anyone do that and elude the social media firing squad yet Computers and phones in this case, acting as the internet's version of the bayonet And watch closely if you’re ‘it’… for the inevitable, the friends that will stab you in the back It’s bound to happen, as much as this may **** The memes will come by the truck load… in what may seem like a self driven truck… With a life of its own Just ask Susan Mirfat The most recently owned! We’re a funny lot I tell you Loose cannons almost Our leaders’ shenanigans, our parents’ semantics and our own clownish antics… Prove that despite… How mature as a country we've become… We’re still all just a bunch of children, inside.**
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32
When humanity loses their beacon Future plummets to deepest chasms No light to welcome the future No hands to hold, in our weaknesses Only shenanigans Will finally obliterate us Leaving this celestial space lonelier
0
Dec 17, 2014
Dec 17, 2014 at 12:35 AM UTC
Our Future
The first duty of the State Should be sanitation, Not defense, nor cyber-security. Drain the swamps. **** the vermin. Wash & sweep the streets. Let us forgive his past shenanigans. A vote for ****** is a Vote for cleanliness. After all: next to Godliness. (American politician **Anthony ****** former member of the U.S. House of Representatives from New York City, was involved in a ****** scandal related to sexting, or sending explicit ****** material by cell phone. On June 16, 2011, ****** announced his intention to resign from Congress with his official resignation occurring on June 23, 2011.)
0
Jun 27, 2015
Jun 27, 2015 at 10:39 PM UTC
“Weinergate Redux”
Crow cackle! Crow cackle! …cackling crow! Who is this scarecrow and what does he know? What does he do? And what does he hear? What does he see? Why do birds fear? Crow cackle! Crow cackle! Cackling crows! Who is this scarecrow and what does he know? The scarecrow sees bunnies, the scarecrow sees squirrels, The scarecrow sees shenanigans of little boys and girls. The scarecrow sees nothing because he doesn’t have real eyes. The scarecrow’s just hay, in a disguise! The bunnies will stop put to him one eye, they cannot seem to figure out, if he’s dead or alive? Crow cackle! Crow cackle! Cackling crows! Who is this scarecrow and what does he know? And the chickadee and the finches and the wrens and the sparrow, all want to rest on him but find themselves harrowed, for his job is to be frightening, fearsome and scary, …and blackbirds, ravens, crows here-ever are nary. Crow cackle! Crow cackle! Cackling crows! Who is this scarecrow and what does he know? You’ll find him quietly scouting the good farmer’s fields, If you could speak to him or hear from him, what could he reveal? Crow cackle! Crow cackle! Cackling crows! Crow cackle! Crow cackle! Cackling crows! Eating your corn, tormenting fields that you’ve sown, In the evenings or the mornings he’ll always be alone. Squawking and screaming their terrible dread! Crying at you, calling to you and filling your head, Always complaining and shouting at your ear. That field and its corn, is what they hold dear. Crow cackle! Crow cackle! Cackling crows! Who is this scarecrow and what does he know? Protecting the corn fields, forever in the throes, Crow cackle! Crow cackle! …cackling crow! Who is this scarecrow and what does he know?
0
Dec 22, 2016
Dec 22, 2016 at 7:13 PM UTC
Song of the Scarecrow
Crow cackle! Crow cackle! …cackling crow! Who is this scarecrow and what does he know? What does he do? And what does he hear? What does he see? Why do birds fear? Crow cackle! Crow cackle! Cackling crows! Who is this scarecrow and what does he know? The scarecrow sees bunnies, the scarecrow sees squirrels, The scarecrow sees shenanigans of little boys and girls. The scarecrow sees nothing because he doesn’t have real eyes. The scarecrow’s just hay, in a disguise! The bunnies will stop put to him one eye, they cannot seem to figure out, if he’s dead or alive? Crow cackle! Crow cackle! Cackling crows! Who is this scarecrow and what does he know? And the chickadee and the finches and the wrens and the sparrow, all want to rest on him but find themselves harrowed, for his job is to be frightening, fearsome and scary, …and blackbirds, ravens, crows here-ever are nary. Crow cackle! Crow cackle! Cackling crows! Who is this scarecrow and what does he know? You’ll find him quietly scouting the good farmer’s fields, If you could speak to him or hear from him, what could he reveal? Crow cackle! Crow cackle! Cackling crows! Crow cackle! Crow cackle! Cackling crows! Eating your corn, tormenting fields that you’ve sown, In the evenings or the mornings he’ll always be alone. Squawking and screaming their terrible dread! Crying at you, calling to you and filling your head, Always complaining and shouting at your ear. That field and its corn, is what they hold dear. Crow cackle! Crow cackle! Cackling crows! Who is this scarecrow and what does he know? Protecting the corn fields, forever in the throes, Crow cackle! Crow cackle! …cackling crow! Who is this scarecrow and what does he know?
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43
I came to study the magical arts But these troublesome three students Hermione, Ron and harry, Last semester those three students Killed our defence against the dark arts teacher I guess if he didn't stand against three kids, How would he survive against the real dark arts, Now this semester they're up to their shenanigans again I wish I could just Wingardium Leviosa them off a cliff But if I do that Or even if I fail my grade this semester My parents will probably Avada Kedavra me.
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May 20, 2016
May 20, 2016 at 10:38 PM UTC
Diary Of A Hogwarts Student
I've got a lot to get ready for. I'm going to be going off soon. I have college next year. The end is beginning to loom. High school will come to an end. I can't believe it's almost done. People I've know since I was a child, The ones with which I've had so much fun. Senior year came so fast. It doesn't seem like this is real. A surreal picture in my mind. But my life time likes to steal. The real world will hit me hard. I'm not ready for it that's for sure. I still wish I had more years with these people. It's going to be a lot to endure. I remember elementary school. The fun times on the playground. The shenanigans we all got into. The time to end it has come around. I will miss everyone I've grown up with since I was 4 years old
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Nov 28, 2012
Nov 28, 2012 at 9:07 PM UTC
Senior Year
I knew we were in trouble when they taught the machines to talk parliament of artificial owls nocturnal park line pirates watch and learn these conspirators abduct the listening chair and strap deniability to another infernal device so some hotwired pilgriming woman possesses superior ****** abilities and a skill with the violin, the pointy end camera is king yet all the negatives have been destroyed still somewhere out there remains a flash card and a hybrid set of eyes watching all the people fall to pieces we're perambulations around collapsed buildings, rather than the collapsing buildings themselves me and the machine of contradictions sick as our secrets with all kinds of shenanigans going on welcome to the age of copying minds onto hard drives and cellphones a future too heavy to carry and so we plant it deep into the soil letting the cables sleep like fading city lights, receding like strange fractured reactors at the edge of the world in lieu of flowers send hope
0
Aug 10, 2022
Aug 10, 2022 at 6:37 PM UTC
Disclosure Denial Dissension
Heidi I fell in love with you at the age of 15, and I remember how I rode my bicycle The 4 miles across town almost every day that summer, two and a half years ago How much effort I put in to make the 40 minute ride over, just to come visit you Heidi I remember your friends and they were nice at first, until your best friend Jaina Thought the word ***** was a part of everyday language and I realized She wasn't even good for much except putting people down and going outside to smoke Heidi I remember the stories you told me about them and how you said you felt obligated To take care of them, and that they meant a lot to you, how you loved them For their silly jokes and shenanigans and just the fact that they were ******* badass" Heidi I remember when Jaina, Miles, and David were over one night I came for dinner They just walked in unprompted, and ruined the time we had alone I remember how you all laughed at me when David made a sick joke about my racial makeup Heidi I got up from the table and went to the bathroom to cry that night Not because I had to go to the bathroom but because you replied to his joke by laughing along And you even made another joke saying "But he's our token asian" Heidi I remember sitting next to you on your bed when we would watch movies all evening But I also remember your attitude and the things you called me the whole time "Asian buddy" Heidi I started noticing things about you I hadn't seen before because my love was blind Like how badly you treated people, just like your friends did Like how self-absorbed you were and how quickly you and your friends ego's fell apart When you realized going to the corrupt Art Institutes for art degrees to make art was probably a bad idea Heidi You were having a hard time finding yourself and what you wanted to do with your life Because you'd spent all your time in high school thinking you were on top of everyone I led you on for almost 8 months before I decided enough was enough Heidi I should have left you early on because during those 8 months I tried to change you Talk to my friends, I talked to them nonstop about you and what I should do with you I remember how I only stayed because it wouldn't be fair to you for all the work we put in Heidi I'm sorry I hurt you but you hurt me too and as time went by I realized You weren't even close to someone I wanted to spend any time with You were nothing I could love, a proven *****
0
Dec 20, 2013
Dec 20, 2013 at 1:11 AM UTC
Heidi
Heidi I fell in love with you at the age of 15, and I remember how I rode my bicycle The 4 miles across town almost every day that summer, two and a half years ago How much effort I put in to make the 40 minute ride over, just to come visit you Heidi I remember your friends and they were nice at first, until your best friend Jaina Thought the word ***** was a part of everyday language and I realized She wasn't even good for much except putting people down and going outside to smoke Heidi I remember the stories you told me about them and how you said you felt obligated To take care of them, and that they meant a lot to you, how you loved them For their silly jokes and shenanigans and just the fact that they were ******* badass" Heidi I remember when Jaina, Miles, and David were over one night I came for dinner They just walked in unprompted, and ruined the time we had alone I remember how you all laughed at me when David made a sick joke about my racial makeup Heidi I got up from the table and went to the bathroom to cry that night Not because I had to go to the bathroom but because you replied to his joke by laughing along And you even made another joke saying "But he's our token asian" Heidi I remember sitting next to you on your bed when we would watch movies all evening But I also remember your attitude and the things you called me the whole time "Asian buddy" Heidi I started noticing things about you I hadn't seen before because my love was blind Like how badly you treated people, just like your friends did Like how self-absorbed you were and how quickly you and your friends ego's fell apart When you realized going to the corrupt Art Institutes for art degrees to make art was probably a bad idea Heidi You were having a hard time finding yourself and what you wanted to do with your life Because you'd spent all your time in high school thinking you were on top of everyone I led you on for almost 8 months before I decided enough was enough Heidi I should have left you early on because during those 8 months I tried to change you Talk to my friends, I talked to them nonstop about you and what I should do with you I remember how I only stayed because it wouldn't be fair to you for all the work we put in Heidi I'm sorry I hurt you but you hurt me too and as time went by I realized You weren't even close to someone I wanted to spend any time with You were nothing I could love, a proven *****
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41
Sarah You're smart  and funny  and kind of really loud But that doesn't mean I don't want you to talk And though I do things you don't want me to You know it's true I can always call you if I need to And you know you have me to Cause I'm pale, pale, pale for you There's no combination that beats teal and violet Pale, pale, pale for you We're Moirails through and through And you know that I will always be with you lalala Don't you know I see the way you talk about your dad I didn't know him at all I'm sorry It's okay He's in a better please  and I'll stay But please don't ever push me away When everything crumble beneath your hands I'll be there to be the one who understands Cause I'm pale, pale, pale for you There's no combination that beats teal and violet Pale, pale, pale for you We're Moirails through and through And you know that I will always be with you lala lala lalalalalala lala lalaaaooo Sign your Kik name with YinYangs I'll make cat faces too : 3 Put up with my HomeStuck shenanigans And I'll be there there you for you Cause I'm pale, pale, pale for you There's no combination that beats teal and violet Pale, pale, pale for you Pale, pale, pale for you Cause I'm pale, pale, pale for you There's no combination that beats teal and violet Pale, pale, pale for you We're Moirails through and through And you know that I will always be with you lalala lala lala la la la la la
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Jul 13, 2014
Jul 13, 2014 at 5:38 PM UTC
Pale! (Song Redo)
There is rutabaga, and ratatouille, gotta love alliteration Then Albuquerque and Tallahassee, are somewhere in our nation And Saskatoon, Saskatchewan found in Canada, my dear In old colloquial, there were hooligans and shenanigans, I fear At school I use a dongle it connects me to my work I hope I didn't bumfuzzle you, didn't mean to be a **** Just one more word on my short list and to see what it can do Find the one you love and in sweet soft voice just turn and utter "pooh"
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Dec 16, 2015
Dec 16, 2015 at 9:30 AM UTC
Funny Words!
A journo aware, equally at home in Palaces, Halls or the streets Trained to vision duplicity slants and angles and know the crux Able to see the story behind the story behind the story and more In ethics robed proudly while mendacity and shenanigans cry shy Show me the Dai Lama in a crack den or Bill Gates ******* in Goa Semi demi illiterates with joined-up thinking or unthinking Immatures lacking emotional intelligence or gainful statures In groupthink mired settles on group delusions in vicissitudes We're programming or flooding seeds of doubts or confusing As if maladroit fantasies are gospels not simpletons' chicanery Dismissives sad dolts duly outflanked and outclassed inherently Ignoramuses crude and coarse in true form lacking introspection Wear disgrace proudly in persistence and parade idiocy fittingly Strength in numbers neither nullifying stupidity or indignities Indulgent cowards and sick gate-keeps of unearned entitlements Nonentities, rabble rousers shamed vigilantes in emotional dearth Claiming and luxuriating in the depravities of their deficiencies I remain what I am and no apologies necessary for august status Your diminutive deeds merely reflects your statures and intellects Little minds already condemn you to suicides of real aspirations CopyrightLaurenceA6thNov2018.allrightsreserved
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Nov 6, 2018
Nov 6, 2018 at 3:10 PM UTC
Ya...knife Me Just Because..........
Stuck on the actual prime meridian where gambling and grown up shenanigans are viewed all ***** hurting society, though I could legally go to the drain on my street and drop a thousand twenty pees in it nae bother our equivalent bet as high rollers we are surely not I miss you Vegas with your daft anti-reality cushions, the strip with no history or heritage necessarily but with goofy drunken dreams brimming alive and I know vice, bad, horror, addiction yadda yadda I miss you Vegas
0
Feb 28, 2021
Feb 28, 2021 at 10:43 AM UTC
Las Vague
Its not love. Now don't think I'm crazy. I swear I'm not, at least not mostly. But its true, its not love, it can't be yet, its been one night and I'd be a true psychotic if I thought it was. Once I thought one night was love, but I was also high off the fumes of my own cruelty and didn't know left from right and Up from Toy Story. But it matters. Not in the way you think, God, I swear not like that. I am not mentally able to catch feelings right now as I stumble through the vacant halls of my own sanity, or better put, the filled asylum of my own insanity. Still, though. It was a night I could be me, a night I want to feel again, where I'm bare and broken and real and **** and that doesn't happen very often for me. My mask of smiles and lies tend to hide everything, but not that night, and not with you. Here in this new sect of Wonderland I can be me , be Grace, with little to no question. Well, there's been some rejection and tears and pain and all the average Wonderland shenanigans, but its been magical. I feel like Wonderland is a place I can live in again. In old Wonderland, I was beginning to suffocate, to feel the cold hand of stability take over me. But I am not ready for that, I'm ready for freedom and dancing in the rain and having *** until the moon goes to bed. I wasn't ready to be in love with the Caterpillar. Crazy, considering I always thought it was he who was unprepared, but all along it was me. Guess I can't live my life wondering what's just around the river bend, I have to investigate. I have to know. Things must get curiouser and curiouser, its how it goes. Let my youth wash over me, let my childlike Wonderland wash over my eyes and let me be me for awhile. Its not normal for me to be this malleable. Everything used to be lies, but now everything is freedom, and for now I love it. Thank you for that night. Its a beginning, a new one, for Wonderland and I. Why? Because for the first time in forever, Grace of Wonderland is free.
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Sep 15, 2014
Sep 15, 2014 at 2:28 PM UTC
My Wonderland pt. 6
Its not love. Now don't think I'm crazy. I swear I'm not, at least not mostly. But its true, its not love, it can't be yet, its been one night and I'd be a true psychotic if I thought it was. Once I thought one night was love, but I was also high off the fumes of my own cruelty and didn't know left from right and Up from Toy Story. But it matters. Not in the way you think, God, I swear not like that. I am not mentally able to catch feelings right now as I stumble through the vacant halls of my own sanity, or better put, the filled asylum of my own insanity. Still, though. It was a night I could be me, a night I want to feel again, where I'm bare and broken and real and **** and that doesn't happen very often for me. My mask of smiles and lies tend to hide everything, but not that night, and not with you. Here in this new sect of Wonderland I can be me , be Grace, with little to no question. Well, there's been some rejection and tears and pain and all the average Wonderland shenanigans, but its been magical. I feel like Wonderland is a place I can live in again. In old Wonderland, I was beginning to suffocate, to feel the cold hand of stability take over me. But I am not ready for that, I'm ready for freedom and dancing in the rain and having *** until the moon goes to bed. I wasn't ready to be in love with the Caterpillar. Crazy, considering I always thought it was he who was unprepared, but all along it was me. Guess I can't live my life wondering what's just around the river bend, I have to investigate. I have to know. Things must get curiouser and curiouser, its how it goes. Let my youth wash over me, let my childlike Wonderland wash over my eyes and let me be me for awhile. Its not normal for me to be this malleable. Everything used to be lies, but now everything is freedom, and for now I love it. Thank you for that night. Its a beginning, a new one, for Wonderland and I. Why? Because for the first time in forever, Grace of Wonderland is free.
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14
I’m a wild child Explored much, invested much, observed too much I have danced in the dancing wind and laid naked in the crushing waves My arms have stretched around the world The shenanigans of unfiltered words The crude behavior of unschooled actions Have driven away the hearts of the expectant I deny not my actions For they come from the plain origin of the wilderness I am a wild child Gutted by trees in the forests and soothed by dewdrops from the branches I speak not the language of man My voice it carries across through the jungle wild In screams and laughters and sometimes loud shrills Like my friends, the apes or the enemy, the dressed I am a wild child I know I can’t be contained – I cannot be housed I must run as with the time that never stops I must run now – before the traps ensnare The cliff awaits, the river calls, I leap into the sky and dive and I am gone!!
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Jul 4, 2012
Jul 4, 2012 at 7:15 AM UTC
I’m a Wild Child
The moon wore Janus masks last night, Winking and nudging at our daily shenanigans; Our wrong turns, the vanity of our foibles, The apprehension of non-events, Poking at our comedy of errors. Our youthful angst. The other mask keeps an eye closed To our secrets, The thoughts we cannot share; Our furcht of past to future Since our first fires, Since someone said, You've said too much, Or, What business is that of yours? I've buried my losses beneath that mask, With all the irreplaceable loves and deaths Of my real drama.
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Sep 22, 2015
Sep 22, 2015 at 8:01 AM UTC
Our Janus Masked Moon
He was a heavenly hellion acting the fool again filled of dreams and adrenaline hes mumbling with the manikins and mocking the shenanigans of morbid ministers dabbling with their daggers again a hooligan with a silencer ******** in the machiavellian looming beneath the luminescence of the crescent moon again
0
Jul 5, 2012
Jul 5, 2012 at 10:53 PM UTC
Relapse
I joined this site last year in March and have found many voices since that kindly welcomed what I wrote with ‘likes’ and comments even messages thank you, my friends I was a short-time member of some other sites and from my past experience I have to say that hp is the liveliest of all I’ve visited even if there at times are posts that sound mean-spirited and the occasional invasions of silly trolls     make you aware that on the internet nothing is safe     from the shenanigans of some frustrated idiots in sum     and in comparison with other sites given its size and its diversity hp is doing fairly well to keep exchange of voices and ideas     benevolent advice    constructive criticism     helpful encouragement of younger members     and sometimes simply kind remarks alive    and spread the urge of writing poetry     that helps us to articulate our loves and fears to keep alive this spirit of creative art is  our formidable work in progress in which we all should lovingly play our part
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Feb 2, 2016
Feb 2, 2016 at 8:06 PM UTC
the hp site (an appreciation)
See the old man, by the alley, by the sidewalk, by the city. Buy the teapot, in the window, in the shop, in the city. See the crooks, in dark allies, in dark corners, in the city. See the mayor, by his lonesome, not so lonesome, hooker's pretty. The quiet marching of the drums, towards endless shenanigans and fun. Sweet and sour, you count down the hour, when the time comes, you will cower. Touch the stone walls, in the park, in the center, of the city. Hear the cars, on the road, on the highway, in the city. Smell the stench, of the liars, of the ignorant, of the city. Taste the sweat, of the beat, of the heat, of the city. And when the city gets to you, promise me you'll know what to do. Just come out to the country, and visit me.
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Feb 5, 2013
Feb 5, 2013 at 10:24 PM UTC
In The City
The greys and blacks Are fighting again, Despite an abundance Of food and shelter. The greys are malcontent, And bigger, with increasing numbers. They've declared a Jihad, They're relentless; And won't stop 'til they've Occupied all the trees out front. The trees in question aren't the issue; Others have similar branches and fruits; It's their belief system Territory is everything; It's their manifest destiny. During a lull in fighting They graze side by side, Always wary of proximity; But the greys know Their tails are larger and thicker, And they recognize the enemy. I know better Than interfere With their shenanigans. Oh, I could quell the activity, Scare them for a while Pelting stones and gushing water; But they'll re-group, stronger, Like ants, Like us. It's a conflict I can't fix. They need to figure it out On their own.
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Jun 13, 2015
Jun 13, 2015 at 9:28 AM UTC
Squirrel Wars
Embodied in a perpetual persona of shitheaded seventeen (Before you snuck out on a cold silver sheet) You could measure your lifespan (or is it your wingspan, now? did you know it's the same as your height?)  in late-night shenanigans topped with bacon-guaca-holy-moly burgers, tumbling in neon spandex and the raising of general hell, which you probably can't reach right now, (And how many flaming bags of feces on why-not doorsteps, for me?) Speaking of me, Do you remember when I kissed your head beside a broken down photo machine? Do you remember when we ran away from your first girlfriend (her first kiss) and laughed because you had a current girlfriend? Do you remember when we tried out clouds in department store floor levels, like you were planning on getting one all along? Like you were my (first) and now my (late) husband? Three years doesn't seem very long ago, when placed in proportion with - what was that word again - eternity? You were but a fleeting presence not only in my life, (in her life, his life, their lives now broken from a trio into a typical twosome) but in your very own - one blonde beach-bunny darting from top-hat to top-shelf (Could you give up World of Warcraft for a World of pearly White?) (Would you take me to my Senior Prom?) We will float yellow rubber ducks down the water at your wake (one by one) and eat food-court teriyaki because no one is allowed to be sad (says you) (Jesus, baby, what's your dang address?!) In the end, you ride off into the sunset on your unicycle, like the bad movie that this is (Screaming, "this thing's killer on the *****
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Sep 20, 2013
Sep 20, 2013 at 12:30 AM UTC
Portsmouth's Peter Pan
Embodied in a perpetual persona of shitheaded seventeen (Before you snuck out on a cold silver sheet) You could measure your lifespan (or is it your wingspan, now? did you know it's the same as your height?)  in late-night shenanigans topped with bacon-guaca-holy-moly burgers, tumbling in neon spandex and the raising of general hell, which you probably can't reach right now, (And how many flaming bags of feces on why-not doorsteps, for me?) Speaking of me, Do you remember when I kissed your head beside a broken down photo machine? Do you remember when we ran away from your first girlfriend (her first kiss) and laughed because you had a current girlfriend? Do you remember when we tried out clouds in department store floor levels, like you were planning on getting one all along? Like you were my (first) and now my (late) husband? Three years doesn't seem very long ago, when placed in proportion with - what was that word again - eternity? You were but a fleeting presence not only in my life, (in her life, his life, their lives now broken from a trio into a typical twosome) but in your very own - one blonde beach-bunny darting from top-hat to top-shelf (Could you give up World of Warcraft for a World of pearly White?) (Would you take me to my Senior Prom?) We will float yellow rubber ducks down the water at your wake (one by one) and eat food-court teriyaki because no one is allowed to be sad (says you) (Jesus, baby, what's your dang address?!) In the end, you ride off into the sunset on your unicycle, like the bad movie that this is (Screaming, "this thing's killer on the *****
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GOS'POZHO! NE GO'VORYA' BALGARSKI (Madame! I Don’t Speak Bulgarian!) ( for Onelia ) I stand outside your world all voiced & unvoiced consonants (& yes I know voiced consonants can become voiceless but only in certain positions.) ‘mislya...’pisha (to think...to write) It’s all Cyrillic to me. Only able to enjoy the shape of it! б There is an O with a scarf billowing over its right shoulder that really is a b. (Reminds me of Isadora Duncan driving to her death her scarf getting caught in the wheel.) A capital Ɓ that is a v (Oh yeah? Yeah!) A large З that looks like a pair of ******* looking down from above from the side. (And Lord save us it’s...a z!) An X that’s a h! (I see...I see!) Ф An apple being cut in two by a knife once again looking down from above ...that’s an f. (Yes? Yes!) Something that could be a starburst Ж (zh...zh...zh) Such a treasure! Or a strong man clasping two ladies by the waist swooning to him in a tango one on either side. An Я looking the wrong way (Ya? Ya!) И Two capital I’s hanging out together with the I (i...i...i) on the right with its hand on the left one’s *** (naughty vowel...naughty vowel) Й And an other two I’s up to the same shenanigans but with half a halo over their heads as if they only wanted to be half good! Maybe one day I’ll learn A little Bulgarian (dogo’dina... dogo’dina) ((next year...next year)) But right now it’s all pictures to me that dash across my imagination. Stra’hotna ‘roklya! Iz’ghezhdash prek rasno! (Fabulous dress!) (You look great!)
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Nov 11, 2015
Nov 11, 2015 at 5:04 PM UTC
GOS'POZHO! NE GO'VORYA' BALGARSKI (Madame! I Don’t Speak Bulgarian!)
GOS'POZHO! NE GO'VORYA' BALGARSKI (Madame! I Don’t Speak Bulgarian!) ( for Onelia ) I stand outside your world all voiced & unvoiced consonants (& yes I know voiced consonants can become voiceless but only in certain positions.) ‘mislya...’pisha (to think...to write) It’s all Cyrillic to me. Only able to enjoy the shape of it! б There is an O with a scarf billowing over its right shoulder that really is a b. (Reminds me of Isadora Duncan driving to her death her scarf getting caught in the wheel.) A capital Ɓ that is a v (Oh yeah? Yeah!) A large З that looks like a pair of ******* looking down from above from the side. (And Lord save us it’s...a z!) An X that’s a h! (I see...I see!) Ф An apple being cut in two by a knife once again looking down from above ...that’s an f. (Yes? Yes!) Something that could be a starburst Ж (zh...zh...zh) Such a treasure! Or a strong man clasping two ladies by the waist swooning to him in a tango one on either side. An Я looking the wrong way (Ya? Ya!) И Two capital I’s hanging out together with the I (i...i...i) on the right with its hand on the left one’s *** (naughty vowel...naughty vowel) Й And an other two I’s up to the same shenanigans but with half a halo over their heads as if they only wanted to be half good! Maybe one day I’ll learn A little Bulgarian (dogo’dina... dogo’dina) ((next year...next year)) But right now it’s all pictures to me that dash across my imagination. Stra’hotna ‘roklya! Iz’ghezhdash prek rasno! (Fabulous dress!) (You look great!)
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