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"submarines" poems
I'm a soldier in the nightlight revolution I'm fighting the nightmares that haunt your dreams The monsters in your closet And the Boogeyman under your bed One outlet at a time I'm a silent alarm that vibrates your covers When older brothers come in after bed time To cover your face in shaving cream Dip your hands in popcorn bowls of warm water Or just slap you in the face Sometimes they're not that subtle I know when there is a tooth under your bed Or reindeer on your roof I've got a motion detector to keep step fathers at bay While your mother's asleep I'm his grave digger and his crypt keeper Taking his skeletons out of the closet And laying them in the middle of the floor That man won't call on you anymore I'm a hug when all you need is a handshake And a hold-you-all-night when all you need is a kiss on the cheek I don't do half-ass When things go bump in the night I bump back Never fear to close both eyes when you sleep Dream of fairy tales, Prince Charming Dream of Maid Marions Waiting for your touch Don't fear the reaper he fears me I am a soldier in the nightlight revolution Armed with so much more than illumination I crawl through the cracks in the closet door Make their shadows cast pictures of rainbows on your wall The Boogey Man runs from Chuck Norris Chuck Norris runs from me Please rest easy Let the night take you for all it has to offer Through star lit skies and rain filled clouds on magic carpets rides Ocean floors and clown fish in little yellow submarines Rain forests with koalas and parrots and panda bears Son never fear for what the night brings near The nightlight revolution is here Throw your dream catcher away I will hand craft each one Take the lavender out of the window sill Don't leave the door cracked You've got me I'm here We're all here Soldiers of the nightlight revolution And we will not sleep til you're awake
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Feb 24, 2010
Feb 24, 2010 at 2:17 PM UTC
The Nightlight Revolution
I'm a soldier in the nightlight revolution I'm fighting the nightmares that haunt your dreams The monsters in your closet And the Boogeyman under your bed One outlet at a time I'm a silent alarm that vibrates your covers When older brothers come in after bed time To cover your face in shaving cream Dip your hands in popcorn bowls of warm water Or just slap you in the face Sometimes they're not that subtle I know when there is a tooth under your bed Or reindeer on your roof I've got a motion detector to keep step fathers at bay While your mother's asleep I'm his grave digger and his crypt keeper Taking his skeletons out of the closet And laying them in the middle of the floor That man won't call on you anymore I'm a hug when all you need is a handshake And a hold-you-all-night when all you need is a kiss on the cheek I don't do half-ass When things go bump in the night I bump back Never fear to close both eyes when you sleep Dream of fairy tales, Prince Charming Dream of Maid Marions Waiting for your touch Don't fear the reaper he fears me I am a soldier in the nightlight revolution Armed with so much more than illumination I crawl through the cracks in the closet door Make their shadows cast pictures of rainbows on your wall The Boogey Man runs from Chuck Norris Chuck Norris runs from me Please rest easy Let the night take you for all it has to offer Through star lit skies and rain filled clouds on magic carpets rides Ocean floors and clown fish in little yellow submarines Rain forests with koalas and parrots and panda bears Son never fear for what the night brings near The nightlight revolution is here Throw your dream catcher away I will hand craft each one Take the lavender out of the window sill Don't leave the door cracked You've got me I'm here We're all here Soldiers of the nightlight revolution And we will not sleep til you're awake
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49
All I do is win, for I'm an Ace Painting a bulls-eye on everyone in the place In my plane I leave everyone else bailing out of the fight in disgrace If I was a horseman, I'd be War 'Cuz like the card game I win against Kings and Queens and take them out of the deck like the Joker on the sidelines, alone and bored. I don't need a Diamond to win you Heart, and I don't wanna join your Club, this was skill and not luck from the very start I am the Ace of Spades, and I'll use my ***** to dig out your graves I've been painted on the sides of planes cars and trains helicopters, submarines, and the munitions that deal out the pain I'm a trick shot Ace with the pool stick As a quarterback, I've yet to throw a pick As a pitcher, I make the other team sick The starter and the backup plan the Ultimate Ace in the Hole The best card in a poker hand lay me down and the money's in the bag I run solo, streaking across the land You only need to hold me in your hand and your enemies will become **** and I'll give 'em a taste of this whirling dervish's mace Leave them breathless upon the ground as I rob the air from out of this place you'll stand in awe of my greatness take a picture, make a statue Fill up every empty space with my name For I am an Ace!
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Oct 5, 2011
Oct 5, 2011 at 2:39 AM UTC
Ace of Spades
Dangerous Water You told me There were things on the beach That caught fire when lifted from the water You told me There were submarines Disguised as monsters In the the exact same waters I told you Not to look for these things To stay away From the water Now I can't find you And there are strangers down by the waterfront All looking at me.
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May 13, 2015
May 13, 2015 at 7:54 PM UTC
Dangerous Water
I came home and found a lion in my room... [First draft of "The Lion for Real" CP 174-175] A lion met America in the road they stared at each other two figures on the crossroads in the desert. America screamed The lion roared They leaped at each other America desperate to win Fighting with bombs, flamethrowers, knives forks submarines. The lion ate America, bit off her head and loped off to the golden hills that's all there is to say about america except that now she's lionshit all over the desert.
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4.8k
Making The Lion For All It's Got -- A Ballad
Finding something on the road And serving it for dinner Buying dresses far too small And thinking you look thinner Solar powered submarines Broken ribs or ruptured spleens Driving cars and drinking beers Lightbulb licking, bad ideas Knowing where you shouldn't be And being there despite Going out in thunderstorms To fly your iron kite Sharing needles with a shark Going to Mansfield after dark Setting fire to someone's ears Telemarketing, bad ideas Not deploying gaffer-tape When doing D.I.Y. Believing the implausible While branding truth a lie Replying to Nigerian Princes **** bleach and ******* rinses Tabloid papers touting fears Voting UKIP, bad ideas Impersonating ****** Before nineteen forty-five Catching a train on Sunday And assuming you'll arrive Turning lights on with your nose Eating food that moves or glows Listening to Britney Spears Marmite Pringles, bad ideas **
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Feb 11, 2015
Feb 11, 2015 at 7:20 AM UTC
Really Bad Ideas
ALERTS TO FINANCIAL AND MILITARY THREATS IN 2012 EUROPE By John Cleese (British writer, actor and tall person): The English are feeling the pinch in relation to recent events in Syria and have therefore raised their security level from "Miffed" to "Peeved." Soon, though, security levels may be raised yet again to "Irritated" or even "A Bit Cross." The English have not been "A Bit Cross" since the blitz in 1940 when tea supplies nearly ran out. Terrorists have been re-categorized from "Tiresome" to "A ****** Nuisance." The last time the British issued a ****** Nuisance" warning level was in 1588, when threatened by the Spanish Armada. The Scots have raised their threat level from ****** Off" to "Let's get the ******** They don't have any other levels. This is the reason they have been used on the front line of the British army for the last 300 years. The French government announced yesterday that it has raised its terror alert level from "Run" to "Hide." The only two higher levels in France are "Collaborate" and "Surrender." The rise was precipitated by a recent fire that destroyed France 's white flag factory, effectively paralyzing the country's military capability. Italy has increased the alert level from "Shout Loudly and Excitedly" to "Elaborate Military Posturing." Two more levels remain: "Ineffective Combat Operations" and "Change Sides." The Germans have increased their alert state from "Disdainful Arrogance" to "Dress in Uniform and Sing Marching Songs." They also have two higher levels: "Invade a Neighbor" and "Lose." Belgians, on the other hand, are all on holiday as usual; the only threat they are worried about is NATO pulling out of Brussels. The Spanish are all excited to see their new submarines ready to deploy. These beautifully designed subs have glass bottoms so the new Spanish navy can get a really good look at the old Spanish navy. Australia , meanwhile, has raised its security level from "No worries" to "She'll be alright, Mate." Two more escalation levels remain: ****** I think we'll need to cancel the barbie this weekend!" and "The barbie is cancelled." So far no situation has ever warranted use of the last final escalation level. A final thought -" Greece is collapsing, the Iranians are getting aggressive, and Rome is in disarray. Welcome back to 430 BC."
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Jul 10, 2012
Jul 10, 2012 at 3:22 PM UTC
Hilarious Piece by John Cleese
ALERTS TO FINANCIAL AND MILITARY THREATS IN 2012 EUROPE By John Cleese (British writer, actor and tall person): The English are feeling the pinch in relation to recent events in Syria and have therefore raised their security level from "Miffed" to "Peeved." Soon, though, security levels may be raised yet again to "Irritated" or even "A Bit Cross." The English have not been "A Bit Cross" since the blitz in 1940 when tea supplies nearly ran out. Terrorists have been re-categorized from "Tiresome" to "A ****** Nuisance." The last time the British issued a ****** Nuisance" warning level was in 1588, when threatened by the Spanish Armada. The Scots have raised their threat level from ****** Off" to "Let's get the ******** They don't have any other levels. This is the reason they have been used on the front line of the British army for the last 300 years. The French government announced yesterday that it has raised its terror alert level from "Run" to "Hide." The only two higher levels in France are "Collaborate" and "Surrender." The rise was precipitated by a recent fire that destroyed France 's white flag factory, effectively paralyzing the country's military capability. Italy has increased the alert level from "Shout Loudly and Excitedly" to "Elaborate Military Posturing." Two more levels remain: "Ineffective Combat Operations" and "Change Sides." The Germans have increased their alert state from "Disdainful Arrogance" to "Dress in Uniform and Sing Marching Songs." They also have two higher levels: "Invade a Neighbor" and "Lose." Belgians, on the other hand, are all on holiday as usual; the only threat they are worried about is NATO pulling out of Brussels. The Spanish are all excited to see their new submarines ready to deploy. These beautifully designed subs have glass bottoms so the new Spanish navy can get a really good look at the old Spanish navy. Australia , meanwhile, has raised its security level from "No worries" to "She'll be alright, Mate." Two more escalation levels remain: ****** I think we'll need to cancel the barbie this weekend!" and "The barbie is cancelled." So far no situation has ever warranted use of the last final escalation level. A final thought -" Greece is collapsing, the Iranians are getting aggressive, and Rome is in disarray. Welcome back to 430 BC."
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36
I crossed a crystal bridge A bridge of clear quartz crystal Leading me to nowhere land My rubber soul did whistle I could see beatles through the sides And yellow submarines below I decided to sit in and make no plans And be a nowhere man but here In this bridge of quartz crystal clear r 22Sept13
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Sep 22, 2013
Sep 22, 2013 at 3:32 PM UTC
The Crystal Bridge
Not a day in your life, war have your eyes witnessed You lay safe, secure, in your ignorant pocket of peace But their memories play before your eyes and their nightmare dance on your eyelids The chop of the fan blades remind you of the planes, menacing overhead and dropping fire from the sky The popping of kernels from the microwave wring forth panic-- Duck! They’re shooting! Duck for cover, you fool! The book, it merely fell, but was it truly a book? Or was it the boom of an artillery cannon? Screams of glee mingle into screams of pain. Your best friend, why don’t you reach out and save him? He’s only a few yards away. He’s in such pain, don’t let him die alone. Don’t let him die like this. Don’t let him die. Stepping in the puddles makes your skin crawl. You remember their blackened skin, rotted flesh. You step out of the water quickly. The open water is calm. Peaceful. Under the surface you can see them, the submarines. You move away from the shoreline. Your friend, hugging you from behind-- it’s their hand, just their hand. There was never a knife. They are your friend. Or are they? The memories. They’re not yours. Whose are they? Why do they tremble like tenor in your mind, ingrained in your DNA? The blood on your hands is not there, open your eyes! The jungle, the desert, the forest, the wasteland. You’re not there, you were never there. The blood on your hands is not there, open your eyes! Now the dark, it's suffocating. This is not your world of cracking rawhide and dirt. You were not there, this is not your reality. That white jacket should not make your breath hitch! That burning cross should not terrorize you so! Now the dark, it's suffocating. This is not your world of fabric stars and canvas trucks. You were not there, this is not your reality. That red armband should not make your breath hitch! That fire should not terrorize you so! Not a day in your life has this world brought its ugly head to look you dead in the eye and breath upon you, noxious breath liquefying your lungs and dissolving your eyes. You are safe-- that blood on your hands is not real-- you are safe-- this is not your reality-- how it terrorizes you so! These memories are not your own. These memories are not your own. These memories are not your own. They are theirs, their memories, and you see them every time you close your eyes. These memories are not your own. These memories are not your own. These memories are not your own. They are not yours and they never will be.
0
Dec 30, 2016
Dec 30, 2016 at 3:42 PM UTC
Memories
Not a day in your life, war have your eyes witnessed You lay safe, secure, in your ignorant pocket of peace But their memories play before your eyes and their nightmare dance on your eyelids The chop of the fan blades remind you of the planes, menacing overhead and dropping fire from the sky The popping of kernels from the microwave wring forth panic-- Duck! They’re shooting! Duck for cover, you fool! The book, it merely fell, but was it truly a book? Or was it the boom of an artillery cannon? Screams of glee mingle into screams of pain. Your best friend, why don’t you reach out and save him? He’s only a few yards away. He’s in such pain, don’t let him die alone. Don’t let him die like this. Don’t let him die. Stepping in the puddles makes your skin crawl. You remember their blackened skin, rotted flesh. You step out of the water quickly. The open water is calm. Peaceful. Under the surface you can see them, the submarines. You move away from the shoreline. Your friend, hugging you from behind-- it’s their hand, just their hand. There was never a knife. They are your friend. Or are they? The memories. They’re not yours. Whose are they? Why do they tremble like tenor in your mind, ingrained in your DNA? The blood on your hands is not there, open your eyes! The jungle, the desert, the forest, the wasteland. You’re not there, you were never there. The blood on your hands is not there, open your eyes! Now the dark, it's suffocating. This is not your world of cracking rawhide and dirt. You were not there, this is not your reality. That white jacket should not make your breath hitch! That burning cross should not terrorize you so! Now the dark, it's suffocating. This is not your world of fabric stars and canvas trucks. You were not there, this is not your reality. That red armband should not make your breath hitch! That fire should not terrorize you so! Not a day in your life has this world brought its ugly head to look you dead in the eye and breath upon you, noxious breath liquefying your lungs and dissolving your eyes. You are safe-- that blood on your hands is not real-- you are safe-- this is not your reality-- how it terrorizes you so! These memories are not your own. These memories are not your own. These memories are not your own. They are theirs, their memories, and you see them every time you close your eyes. These memories are not your own. These memories are not your own. These memories are not your own. They are not yours and they never will be.
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26
*Commanding the 'Crows Nest' in search of submarines on Panama City Beach Our curiosity in real time demand , blanket oceanside Admiralty Mariners were towing the ocean yachts into portland that day Tales of Neptune , ambergris , running *** and rough sail Riding the easterlies , filling our shell pails                                                         A prize for gifted imaginations indeed , sand dollars and - cirrus clouds above the warm turquoise Sea* .....
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Jul 4, 2016
Jul 4, 2016 at 7:53 PM UTC
Panama City 1970 ...
we were built so fragile just about to fall but look at how we fight look how we stand tall human bodies weren't made to sustain but we conquered it, we broke it we bared the pain from typhoid to bad falls a deep cough, mental stress after all we are susceptible to you'd think there'd be nothing left but we have survived plagues we have fought through the wars airplanes were built to sore the skies submarines to explore the waters heart break can **** you (trust me, i'd know) but 7 billion broken hearts and we still don't let the hurt show we walk into work we raise our children we do what needs to be done even when we're broken within we help one another empathize with anothers pain put aside our worries for theirs even when there's nothing to gain kindness, solidarity contribution, charity we are the children of a nation that survived when the volcanoes erupted when the ground shook when our homes were consumed by fire and all we could do was look when the floods took our babies and the tornadoes took our homes we rebuilt from ground up and prayed for our children's souls prayer and endurance might and fight we have pushed through the darkness without the promise of light ask me and i'll tell you how my dad was so sick he was left for dead ask me and i'll tell you how my mom sat every moment by his bed ask me and i'll tell you how many nights i slept well ask me and i'll tell you how my mom never let us find out he was ill ask me and i'll tell you the tears she wept when he was well ask me and i'll tell you the tears she wept when got up and left ask me and i'll tell you i've seen hurt, i've seen pain ask me and i'll tell you i've seen guilt and i've seen shame ask me and i'll tell you the stories of my grandparents during the war ask me and i'll tell you that they still smile, even though they remember the horror ask me and i'll tell you how my aunt held her 12 day old daughter (her name was nour) ask me and i'll tell you how she kissed her forehead before laying her in her grave ask me and i'll tell you how easy it is for humans to break ask me and i'll tell you how easy it is for their worlds to shake but ask me and i'll tell you how much strength we have shown even in the depths of darkness we still have hope. we are the children of a nation that survived.
0
Dec 21, 2016
Dec 21, 2016 at 8:49 AM UTC
humans
we were built so fragile just about to fall but look at how we fight look how we stand tall human bodies weren't made to sustain but we conquered it, we broke it we bared the pain from typhoid to bad falls a deep cough, mental stress after all we are susceptible to you'd think there'd be nothing left but we have survived plagues we have fought through the wars airplanes were built to sore the skies submarines to explore the waters heart break can **** you (trust me, i'd know) but 7 billion broken hearts and we still don't let the hurt show we walk into work we raise our children we do what needs to be done even when we're broken within we help one another empathize with anothers pain put aside our worries for theirs even when there's nothing to gain kindness, solidarity contribution, charity we are the children of a nation that survived when the volcanoes erupted when the ground shook when our homes were consumed by fire and all we could do was look when the floods took our babies and the tornadoes took our homes we rebuilt from ground up and prayed for our children's souls prayer and endurance might and fight we have pushed through the darkness without the promise of light ask me and i'll tell you how my dad was so sick he was left for dead ask me and i'll tell you how my mom sat every moment by his bed ask me and i'll tell you how many nights i slept well ask me and i'll tell you how my mom never let us find out he was ill ask me and i'll tell you the tears she wept when he was well ask me and i'll tell you the tears she wept when got up and left ask me and i'll tell you i've seen hurt, i've seen pain ask me and i'll tell you i've seen guilt and i've seen shame ask me and i'll tell you the stories of my grandparents during the war ask me and i'll tell you that they still smile, even though they remember the horror ask me and i'll tell you how my aunt held her 12 day old daughter (her name was nour) ask me and i'll tell you how she kissed her forehead before laying her in her grave ask me and i'll tell you how easy it is for humans to break ask me and i'll tell you how easy it is for their worlds to shake but ask me and i'll tell you how much strength we have shown even in the depths of darkness we still have hope. we are the children of a nation that survived.
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79
We are the deepest grey. We have many notions. Everything we hear, we ***** slowly. Just as it isn’t, misted by hate and love. We are cruel, compulsive liars. The heart of a giant peasant, circular. We never meditate to ourselves. They are dull and bland. We refuse to look at them. We try not to think about them. Hands and sun bring us together. Later we will be mountains. Man looks up at us. Wishing he could be us. He turns to the truth, bulbs and stars. He looks at us, we shove it in his face. He smiles, he will never leave. We mean nothing to him. At night, his face brings the dark. Within himself he saved an old man, and a young damsel. Sink within him year before year, as if they were yellow submarines.
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Feb 2, 2012
Feb 2, 2012 at 8:09 AM UTC
Yellow Submarines
There are submarines in Tottenham they're watching every woman, man,and moving slowly underground they make no sound but have no doubt they're watching what you're all about.
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Jan 27, 2014
Jan 27, 2014 at 9:01 AM UTC
Warfare
May no monster disturb your sleep and your night be filled with battles with dragons and trips in submarines. That tonight you become a knight, a super hero, a pilot and a rockstar. That each night carries a different adventure, that you feel invinsible and wake up with the urge to become everything you've been in your wildest dreams.
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Jul 5, 2013
Jul 5, 2013 at 4:23 AM UTC
Night wishes for my son.
insides dead, driftwood emotions, oceans of regret. swept under the waves. Betterdays, in the horizon. Hard to find them in the abyss of bad habits that i’ve inhabited. Agoraphobic, closed off, like a treacherous day. Doors locked, subdued, constant moods, brooding storms in submarines, under the weather & under the sea. show me the coral reef, of beautful feelings, and creatures, the features of life. Evade me by day, and escape me at night. i can’t fathom the colloquial, of the same old **** i’m down with my nothing, and i’ll sink with the ship.
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Jan 15, 2016
Jan 15, 2016 at 5:51 PM UTC
Titanics Last Promise
if birds flew with helicopters would fish swim with submarines? do they? because elephants walk with Range Rovers.
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Sep 10, 2014
Sep 10, 2014 at 4:24 AM UTC
Curiosity
As love as life purely be The newborn does clearly see So is the Treasures ripped of me And with the lead, I into the thickening sea Deep sea diver, who’d dream of submarines Remembering to forget what ought be And into thee illusions and relative delusions As we agree to agree unto our identities So the child would play into the surreal Reality they say, but in plain sight Would the greatest they steal Life is hot and scalds as all accepts When in your mind you don’t learn All the right steps As you were as you were three And not another just like Me In exuberance to conquer Those who conquer about and not be But for the few and synergies A fairytale of sugar and spice Not doing great harm because your nice Deep sea diver in your submarine I am the sky Would you come out And breathe with me Your story is of remembrance Of all you once were And ever could be Pure Love that is seeing perfectly The mountains that melt into the Sea And reality becomes Love In your waking living breathing Dream So shall the song of life be Growing up Growing down Weaving your Love story all around Our greater home Where all are found And find every angel does serve thee As we decide what they be So mind what you mind Mind you if I am heart And mind you be Your great calling is serving me As I am servant to all of thee I am knower and will not deceive Nothing has power over thee Upon mountains or depth of sea You are the Dragon Who fire breathes Whose song and dance Is what is Heart Not of other chance O what Joy be If every girl and boy Simply be and see
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Jun 10, 2012
Jun 10, 2012 at 9:11 PM UTC
Nothing Else
As love as life purely be The newborn does clearly see So is the Treasures ripped of me And with the lead, I into the thickening sea Deep sea diver, who’d dream of submarines Remembering to forget what ought be And into thee illusions and relative delusions As we agree to agree unto our identities So the child would play into the surreal Reality they say, but in plain sight Would the greatest they steal Life is hot and scalds as all accepts When in your mind you don’t learn All the right steps As you were as you were three And not another just like Me In exuberance to conquer Those who conquer about and not be But for the few and synergies A fairytale of sugar and spice Not doing great harm because your nice Deep sea diver in your submarine I am the sky Would you come out And breathe with me Your story is of remembrance Of all you once were And ever could be Pure Love that is seeing perfectly The mountains that melt into the Sea And reality becomes Love In your waking living breathing Dream So shall the song of life be Growing up Growing down Weaving your Love story all around Our greater home Where all are found And find every angel does serve thee As we decide what they be So mind what you mind Mind you if I am heart And mind you be Your great calling is serving me As I am servant to all of thee I am knower and will not deceive Nothing has power over thee Upon mountains or depth of sea You are the Dragon Who fire breathes Whose song and dance Is what is Heart Not of other chance O what Joy be If every girl and boy Simply be and see
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56
Ship is sinking but no one wants to know Love is thinking, but it’s scared of the glow Submarines where warlords and tech gods go… Ship is sinking but no one wants to know Babies blinking before their whole lives blow… Elders warning, but no one wants to know Death is forming a strange prison of gloat… Ship is sinking but no one wants to know Time is ticking, but we’ve put that on hold Weather’s wilding - some relief from the groans Photos fading, the ocean bottom’s ***** Ship is sinking but no one wants to know Sun is calling but no one wants to hope Rainbows form differently, still no one takes note… Sun is calling but no one wants to hope We’ve bought the idea that humans are a slope… Somebody finally feels good in the smoke; Hand turns the dial higher, but dreams they’ll never know… A whole world that’s sick and tired and inspired - A picture of sad old pirates shrunk in their attire…
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Sep 11, 2025
Sep 11, 2025 at 11:48 AM UTC
Ship is sinking
All it takes is half an hour, once the button's pressed For a missile from Siberia, to land on the US - 20 Mega Tons Death, 20 Mega Tons of Doom Coming to the USA...you won't need a tomb - And this is only one! There fly many many more And from submarines, stationed off our shore - Then Yellowstone will blow, San Andres too Don't forget 'bout New Madrid...bid this world adieu - Read the Book of Mathew, chapter 24 This is on its way, blood and guts and gore
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Jan 4, 2015
Jan 4, 2015 at 8:39 AM UTC
Mathew Chapter 24
Just a glimpse of your pretty smile Makes any day I have worthwhile When I'm with you I'm filled with love You remind me of the stars above You wear that pretty summer dress Your fragile heart I will caress The golden fields in which we lay My love for you I show today Lust for you I must confess Feeling things I can't express Dreams, submarines, and doilies too Tonight I'll be right here with you Separate us I dare they never I wish to be with you forever
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Sep 9, 2013
Sep 9, 2013 at 9:35 AM UTC
Never Again
What tastes salty? Obviously potato chips. Obviously a Californa girls hips. Your lips after your tears What tastes sweet? Obviously the candy shop Obviously an affair with a cop. Your kisses in the morning What tastes refreshing? Obviously a cup of water. Obviously a spring from the Alps. Your skin in the shower. Move me like the music and the rhythm. Mold me like the sculptor and the ceramics. My mistakes I have always shown on the surface, But yours you have hidden deep beneath the sea. These little black submarines, They show in the shallows. From encased in the hands of the small bird that sits on your brain stem all day; a little hope comes of me. Or at least I muse it would. I dream of you the whole night through, and when winter comes I still dream of you. And when age comes I still dream of you. And when death comes to you, I still dream of you. And in death I will come to meet the true you. Don't take that the wrong way, no one is behind me to back me up on this, but you always say I don't know you, believe me I really try too. If you ever flew, I would go with you and the little birds would carry me through.
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Nov 26, 2013
Nov 26, 2013 at 10:12 PM UTC
Lumineers.
Bleeding eclipse splatters anguish, scorching frozen terrain Reservoir transmits despair, vaporizing humid remains Noxious fumes plague ventilation, incinerating methane mutilates Inhumane detonations ignite smog, dismembering shrapnel decimates Bombardments stimulate hallucinations, assailants discharge magazines Incendiaries barrage trenches, vulnerability flourishes disease Artilleries eject carnage, atrocious quarantine impedes retreat Projectiles massacre infantry, heinous airstrike parries deceit Howitzer impersonates tempest, kamikaze technique revealed Nautical battleships converge, perilous adversaries concealed Submarines launch torpedoes, oblivious warships sealed doom Submersed submersibles clash, claustrophobic vessels entomb Drowning agony crushes depths, forsaken lagoon transforms necropolis Aquatic daemons consume decrepit, infernal torment surrenders providence Condemned mortals cauterize compassion, genocide exterminates consciousness Snorkeling corpses mound topside, eradicated infestation forfeited holocaust
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May 11, 2017
May 11, 2017 at 8:26 PM UTC
Holocaust
Go outside after breakfast Come back for lunch at noon. Come inside at suppertime And even then, it was too soon. Never permitted to be late We ate dinner at six each day Eat every bite on our plate. About the menu we had no say. We had baking soda submarines Popular Mechanics magazines And that was technology back then. Decoder rings and roller skate keys Shooting marbles on our knees And playing crooks and G-men. Those days we had three channels On all black and white televisions. Just the same thirteen inch boxes; Nothing like 3D or Panavision. Loved Uncle Miltie and Lucille Ball And considered Korla Pandit a waste, But we must be forgiven because Back then, no one had much taste. We could spell Kula, Fran and Ollie, Said words like “gosh”, and “by golly” And were anxious to see flying cars. Many movies were in Technicolor But you always had to take your brother And he didn’t recognize the stars. After school we played sandlot ball Saturday were TV cartoon shows; Dancing trees with belly buttons And a local clown with a red nose. We joined Cubs and Boy Scouts Had lemonade stands by the street, Matchbooks in bicycle stokes And used bottle cap taps for our feet. It seemed like days were longer then And summer was slow to come again. Those were the days when we had fun. We built our forts and hooked up swings Kids did all crazy kinds of things Before these modern times had begun.
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May 12, 2016
May 12, 2016 at 7:55 PM UTC
OLLY OLLY OXEN FEE
I'm sorry courage took a longer time for your hair to grow out past your shoulders Maybe I regret the coveted gazes that took residence in the threads of your muscles now precinct, hardly noticed nor remembered You're the seventh page of my diary, as well as the eighth, the ninth, the tenth and it goes on till the edge of this cliff you call home There are things I don't know why I do Like the time I gave myself bruises on my shins just because I liked the colour Has anyone ever thought of how bruises are actually a metaphor of everything unsaid? Capillaries bursting under the surface of your skin and not flowing, like the words that ride in submarines in your head but never brave enough to say them out loud Things sound nicer when they come from your lips anyway. I laugh too much Is the passion carved on your skull as deep and carefully thought out as the things you say? Warmth from you is as untrue and synthetic as your boxing gloves strapped tightly on Punches with the soul of death, you pretend your stares are empty I’ve watched sunsets more times than I have seen your smile The darkness that swallows the harbor isn’t something we’d talk about over steaming cups of coffee I don’t drink coffee anyway I heard you make lovely icy rainbow popsicles and hand them out at barbecues But nothing’s colder than your hard gaze, as hard as your cheekbones I wish you’d grow your hair mid-back so you can finally braid it I am not so sure what waiting is supposed to do except breed hope and a whole lot of misery Silhouettes are me and you and everything intangible, just like me and you and black and white, just like me and you I am in love with you but I do not love you.
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Jun 7, 2014
Jun 7, 2014 at 6:10 AM UTC
I write things about you
I'm sorry courage took a longer time for your hair to grow out past your shoulders Maybe I regret the coveted gazes that took residence in the threads of your muscles now precinct, hardly noticed nor remembered You're the seventh page of my diary, as well as the eighth, the ninth, the tenth and it goes on till the edge of this cliff you call home There are things I don't know why I do Like the time I gave myself bruises on my shins just because I liked the colour Has anyone ever thought of how bruises are actually a metaphor of everything unsaid? Capillaries bursting under the surface of your skin and not flowing, like the words that ride in submarines in your head but never brave enough to say them out loud Things sound nicer when they come from your lips anyway. I laugh too much Is the passion carved on your skull as deep and carefully thought out as the things you say? Warmth from you is as untrue and synthetic as your boxing gloves strapped tightly on Punches with the soul of death, you pretend your stares are empty I’ve watched sunsets more times than I have seen your smile The darkness that swallows the harbor isn’t something we’d talk about over steaming cups of coffee I don’t drink coffee anyway I heard you make lovely icy rainbow popsicles and hand them out at barbecues But nothing’s colder than your hard gaze, as hard as your cheekbones I wish you’d grow your hair mid-back so you can finally braid it I am not so sure what waiting is supposed to do except breed hope and a whole lot of misery Silhouettes are me and you and everything intangible, just like me and you and black and white, just like me and you I am in love with you but I do not love you.
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In calm waves of imaginings  I am mermaid, Always chasing you through the towering tides, Disappearing between each scalloped crest; Only my tail visible, sticking out at odd angles. I have lean, strong swimmer's muscles; I can swim for miles, Nearly keep up with submarines, ships, ferry’s, For a limited time. My hair tumbles down As though a nest, like ***** twisted seaweed Around my face’s shipwreck-glass eyes And sunscald lips. I follow keenly the scent; Something, someone who’s precious- human scent, Pungent, earthy, vivifyingly attractive, Counterpoint to the ocean’s ambergris. Meanwhile there’s only horizons of teal water all around me, And roving sky above; my sole company most days. I swim with just the barest hint Of whispered memories, Something so far and long ago; He who knew well the secret heart of me, Within my fishy innards And  in spite of my appearance. Sometimes a stray dolphin befriends me, And travels for a distance beside me; Speaking in strange, native high-pitched dolphin talk; And dolphins are interesting, but they are not men, And they can’t comprehend what is it I follow In the blind, long-aching of unknown distance, Or what I pine for nightly, in my roiling watery soul In the solitary caves, of this twilight world.
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Jul 12, 2010
Jul 12, 2010 at 3:53 PM UTC
There Is Only One I Loved