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"sinter" poems
Refrain: The legend of our sweet Santa Claus In December begins Up on the rooftops, when eight strong paws Make sounds of reindeers twins. Santa had another noted name, He was a simple man Called Nicholas living for no fame. He was a Christian. His parents died, when he was still young, In a village of Greece. Thinking of Jesus, his thoughts he strung To help poor kids in peace. Refrain: The legend of our sweet Santa Claus In December begins Up on the rooftops, when eight strong paws Make sounds of reindeers twins. Under Diocletian he became A Bishop in mission. He was imprisoned, and put to shame. He changed the tradition. In time, St. Nicholas' life and deeds Have become a story. He was a helper of those in needs, A man in the glory. Refrain: The legend of our sweet Santa Claus In December begins Up on the rooftops, when eight strong paws Make sounds of reindeers twins. Nicholas became Dutch Sinter Klass, But children changed his name. The Bishop's red cloak changed with time's glass In cloths for Santa's fame. On that day, kids wait for him to come In spirit of giving, The Christmas tree looks no longer glum And it looks like living. Refrain: The legend of our sweet Santa Claus In December begins Up on the rooftops, when eight strong paws Make sounds of reindeers twins. Down the chimney comes Papa Noel Quite slipping and sliding. From his sky with reindeers and sleigh bells Just gnashing and gliding. Spreading stardust glittering at night He brings presents for kids, They pray and sing in the Divine Light. Then, to sky his sleigh skids. Refrain: The legend of our sweet Santa Claus In December begins Up on the rooftops, when eight strong paws Make sounds of reindeers twins.
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Nov 28, 2014
Nov 28, 2014 at 12:23 PM UTC
The Legend of Santa Claus
Refrain: The legend of our sweet Santa Claus In December begins Up on the rooftops, when eight strong paws Make sounds of reindeers twins. Santa had another noted name, He was a simple man Called Nicholas living for no fame. He was a Christian. His parents died, when he was still young, In a village of Greece. Thinking of Jesus, his thoughts he strung To help poor kids in peace. Refrain: The legend of our sweet Santa Claus In December begins Up on the rooftops, when eight strong paws Make sounds of reindeers twins. Under Diocletian he became A Bishop in mission. He was imprisoned, and put to shame. He changed the tradition. In time, St. Nicholas' life and deeds Have become a story. He was a helper of those in needs, A man in the glory. Refrain: The legend of our sweet Santa Claus In December begins Up on the rooftops, when eight strong paws Make sounds of reindeers twins. Nicholas became Dutch Sinter Klass, But children changed his name. The Bishop's red cloak changed with time's glass In cloths for Santa's fame. On that day, kids wait for him to come In spirit of giving, The Christmas tree looks no longer glum And it looks like living. Refrain: The legend of our sweet Santa Claus In December begins Up on the rooftops, when eight strong paws Make sounds of reindeers twins. Down the chimney comes Papa Noel Quite slipping and sliding. From his sky with reindeers and sleigh bells Just gnashing and gliding. Spreading stardust glittering at night He brings presents for kids, They pray and sing in the Divine Light. Then, to sky his sleigh skids. Refrain: The legend of our sweet Santa Claus In December begins Up on the rooftops, when eight strong paws Make sounds of reindeers twins.
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Go toward the bright sun's glare upon the snow, Test the crust underfoot and trek to the west. There are no footprints here, we are like the air, That rattles leaves and hammers the tundra flat. Call to the ghosts of the now forgotten fall, Sinter white coals in the furnace of winter Gneiss, feldspar, mica and granite all of ice Frost like barbed wire, icy borders to be crossed. Wend through the trees, with the thawing wind I send, Found now, the sun's heat arrives without a sound, Among grassy fields laid bare, a song is sung. Free of ice and wind, that brings you here to me.
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Oct 10, 2013
Oct 10, 2013 at 3:53 PM UTC
Eleven, First and Last
like Jericho of the ancients my walls have found their matchmate, their shofar, their holy crumbling disintegration - have sounded the depth of my abyssal and penetrable, vaginal soul I am entered through the desolated and tender crevasse discovered in the arched vault of my love which treasures not, nor needs yet knows ee cummings’ “secret of begin” to the outer borders of my being, the hidden places of my knowing the right kind of madness, this of a rightness and a madness so pure, it stings the perceptions of ordinariness and makes of ennui - the sinter of a heated being - anything but yet, enter my fornix with dread and awe lest you vitrify it by atomic waves of sorrow I am fragile, and tender, gentle, strong and destructive I am death from Life and Life from Death blow your shofar, Ram, and I shall fall into your gravity I shall be as Callisto to Jupiter, an orbit by seduction and a child wombed in Love c. 2017 Roberta Compton Rainwater
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Oct 29, 2017
Oct 29, 2017 at 11:53 AM UTC
Jericho's walls
Father father, covered in bones Father father, one with fire Father father, consumed by darkness Father father speak nothing but chaos Brother brother, my secret lover Brother brother, eye fill with lust Brother brother, hiding from the living Brother brother, lost with in time Sister sister, quiet and thirsty Sister sister, cruel but kind Sister sister, with sinter eyes Sister sister, addict to blood Children Children My dear children Children Children, masters of shadows Children Children, making Mother proud Children children lost in the **** This broken nest is a scattered family Lost in our desires Only to found in this web So close yet so far Come find me My broken family
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Feb 25, 2015
Feb 25, 2015 at 1:27 PM UTC
Scattered Family