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"swig" poems
I can fake my identity and try to look happy, but its all just a cover. Take a swig from the flask and remove the last mask only to find another. There was once a time when I knew myself, but now I'm not so sure. All semblance of self-worth lay eroding in the dirt, and its all thanks to her. It's not really her fault, I'm truly to blame. I grew selfish out of fear. Afraid of being alone, I couldn't let her go and now she's nowhere near.
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Apr 25, 2014
Apr 25, 2014 at 10:18 PM UTC
Layers
there's nothing like jumpin' in a mountain stream to wake you up to life except maybe a swig of moonshine
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Mar 18, 2015
Mar 18, 2015 at 2:07 PM UTC
mountain streams
Ye got to Fancy this Hearty Stout, Aye, Soot-soaked with tub-flavoured Laurels of Gold Now bloke-haste Juggers tick your nerves on-high And make ye shout the Trumpet-Football-Fold Yet so, our Celtic Spirit comes to call For you to Jig their Post-Victorious Dance Or, if upset, prefer to keep knees on hold And hope such Font will get you that Romance Still, never deny those After-Glugs won't count In palling the Bet for Arsenal's Wear Sudden Death Match will cause the Team to Mount And show those Charbarrels a Reason to Tear. Raise a Swig, to where there Brave Captains be I take me Share, and drink the Sailor in me.
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Mar 9, 2013
Mar 9, 2013 at 5:25 AM UTC
SONNET TRIBUTE: GUINNESS IRELAND
*Life is my current lover. I swig her ephemeral taste from my cupped hands worried as the golden, shimmering liquid rushes through creases and cracks in my jaded hands. Her mood varies through my stages; at times she is of doting temper and roseate kisses but when love evades her, most often than not, her calloused hands damage the pearly flesh in tender places, and discontent paints a surly mood as she digs her crimson brush against the canvas of my self. Life is my inconsistent lover, sometimes doting but most often than not abusive. So I vowed my eternal devotion to Death. We escape under the dark canopy of starless wings; a tryst. I eat of the forbidden feasts in the Kingdom of Hades, grains of scarlet pomegranates staining my chapped lips. Death has promised me perpetuity. But until Life decides to release me from her capricious temper, I shall long for the wintry, rainy comfort of my drowsy affair.*
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Apr 24, 2014
Apr 24, 2014 at 12:35 AM UTC
An affair with Death
Met jou patetiese pantomiem teen n God wat jy haat verkrag jy harte en bevestig sy bestaan. *** seer voel jou vuiste as jy slaan na die wind? *** groot voel jou ego met die roem wat jy vind? Swakelinge swig soos skape voor jou opstand en hype Jou talent is verduister in verganklike tripe. Jy is nie die eerste of laaste wat laster, wat liefde verloor met die haat wat jy koester. Ons is almal maar net wasems wat verdwyn in die mis tot verniet gaan ons woede en onheilige twis. Daar is nog genade terwyl die son skyn om omkeer te maak van die krakende pyn.
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Feb 2, 2010
Feb 2, 2010 at 10:33 PM UTC
Roem wat Laster (Afrikaans)
Lone star walking roads, crowbar in hand cowgirl I'll die for, I died and I died again, fluent in 6 country's, passports; pardons no cargo, but luggage is a stainless steel flask, half full, half way, to the moon if you asked me? Cadillacs in space, expensive taste that's masked with — the cheap stuff, inspired souls, they walk, and this forsaken path, they'll never make hell a ***** deed or two from heaven, counterparts we're equals, we're lost they're my colleagues, a scandal from remembrance, remember we followed rules? no response **** there's a shift in the rubix cube,  a memo from the warden, no weapons in the visit room, coordinating sin, a taste of gin before the see you soons, world was much warm before stone replaced the sand dunes, scoff at the elixir, cordially she casts stones, ******* of a demon crossing ponds is all the child knows, tales of the fishermen, who heard it through the corridors, all and all departed, with a fear of the other gods, strictly prohibited, a swig of the forbidden fruit, who are you to judge me, When Your Son Is Not Of Holy Proof! wedded to a mortal said your honor, absent i do's, abstinence is bliss and your crime ascends civilian law, guilty -- you're filthy, your son will never know your soul, I know my role and play it well, Your god never admits he's wrong, so why would I? — a baby cried, I'm present for my son's birth, and leave before an open eye the practice of a perfect curse.
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Sep 29, 2016
Sep 29, 2016 at 8:13 AM UTC
(great grandson of Greek God Cronus) Our Deadbeat Father
Within creased paper lie binded souls Firmly held within my clutch , Ideology hemorrhaging as non-opposables only bend so much. Thirsty i reached for a swig of your cup  Open palmed  This vessel mishandled  the contents soaked through bedrock Its remains a drink for the decrepit.
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Nov 14, 2014
Nov 14, 2014 at 9:16 AM UTC
morals
Wine was cheap Food was **** Sat like a creep And tried to fit Sleepy as hell Drank too much Can't even spell Wall is a crutch The girls are cute Music is loud Might as well be mute Another face in the crowd Swim with the fish Drink like'em too Swig and a swish I'm fuckin' through Smile as you will Grin as you like But outta my grill Ain't feelin so tight Puke in the street **** by the pole Limbs feelin weak Sleep in a hole Rhymes not so pretty Style not so sweet Opposite o' pretty Not really that deep Hate most parties Hate the people that go Sit at home with a bag o' smarties With a **** TV show
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Nov 22, 2014
Nov 22, 2014 at 11:52 PM UTC
Party
Looks like you need a drink... What'll it be, let me think... One thing you should know, Little Miss, I'm not a bartender... I'm just winging this... Hmm... Arc in a cocktail shaker Filled halfway up Throw Melz in the mix Just a dollop Let's see now... Spoonful of rhymes Make that a table Few drops of Conor If he's up and able Almost ready... A touch of Tea Maybe a tad more A dose of Frank In a little pour Just about done... Cap it up Shake that shaker Pour it out Top with Silver Ahh... In a cocktail glass Now sprinkle with Dani Let's not stinge Sprinkle aplenty There you go, Hon... Take a full swig When you see the bottom, your pain wouldn't seem so big...
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Oct 4, 2014
Oct 4, 2014 at 2:03 AM UTC
Bottoms Up!
God knows how our neighbor managed to breed His great sow: Whatever his shrewd secret, he kept it hid In the same way He kept the sow--impounded from public stare, Prize ribbon and pig show. But one dusk our questions commended us to a tour Through his lantern-lit Maze of barns to the lintel of the sunk sty door To gape at it: This was no rose-and-larkspurred china suckling With a penny slot For thrift children, nor dolt pig ripe for heckling, About to be Glorified for prime flesh and golden crackling In a parsley halo; Nor even one of the common barnyard sows, Mire-smirched, blowzy, Maunching thistle and knotweed on her snout- cruise-- Bloat tun of milk On the move, hedged by a litter of feat-foot ninnies Shrilling her hulk To halt for a swig at the pink teats. No. This vast Brobdingnag bulk Of a sow lounged belly-bedded on that black compost, Fat-rutted eyes Dream-filmed. What a vision of ancient hoghood must Thus wholly engross The great grandam!--our marvel blazoned a knight, Helmed, in cuirass, Unhorsed and shredded in the grove of combat By a grisly-bristled Boar, fabulous enough to straddle that sow's heat. But our farmer whistled, Then, with a jocular fist thwacked the barrel nape, And the green-copse-castled Pig hove, letting legend like dried mud drop, Slowly, grunt On grunt, up in the flickering light to shape A monument Prodigious in gluttonies as that hog whose want Made lean Lent Of kitchen slops and, stomaching no constraint, Proceeded to swill The seven troughed seas and every earthquaking continent.
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6.5k
Sow
God knows how our neighbor managed to breed His great sow: Whatever his shrewd secret, he kept it hid In the same way He kept the sow--impounded from public stare, Prize ribbon and pig show. But one dusk our questions commended us to a tour Through his lantern-lit Maze of barns to the lintel of the sunk sty door To gape at it: This was no rose-and-larkspurred china suckling With a penny slot For thrift children, nor dolt pig ripe for heckling, About to be Glorified for prime flesh and golden crackling In a parsley halo; Nor even one of the common barnyard sows, Mire-smirched, blowzy, Maunching thistle and knotweed on her snout- cruise-- Bloat tun of milk On the move, hedged by a litter of feat-foot ninnies Shrilling her hulk To halt for a swig at the pink teats. No. This vast Brobdingnag bulk Of a sow lounged belly-bedded on that black compost, Fat-rutted eyes Dream-filmed. What a vision of ancient hoghood must Thus wholly engross The great grandam!--our marvel blazoned a knight, Helmed, in cuirass, Unhorsed and shredded in the grove of combat By a grisly-bristled Boar, fabulous enough to straddle that sow's heat. But our farmer whistled, Then, with a jocular fist thwacked the barrel nape, And the green-copse-castled Pig hove, letting legend like dried mud drop, Slowly, grunt On grunt, up in the flickering light to shape A monument Prodigious in gluttonies as that hog whose want Made lean Lent Of kitchen slops and, stomaching no constraint, Proceeded to swill The seven troughed seas and every earthquaking continent.
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49
good morning little daughter good morning mother earth. Good morning city water. I will swig your hissing turf. Good morning shade of grey start the page a better way. Good morning morning. And a good morning from my ballerina. A sweet morning for a grown and young latina.
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Sep 5, 2015
Sep 5, 2015 at 9:45 AM UTC
an old and young latinas starting morning.
She's hot, He's not They've got nothing in common He's out drinking away his problems She's at home sitting on the bed crying His seeing other girls While she's all alone at home And these two souls Should be walking separate paths Both hurt and ache inside Both mentally troubled in their mind This situation just doesn't feel right They're Mr and Mrs's negativity They've never got anything positive to say They're emotionally drained every day Trying to find a smile in these hard times but in these dark days, it's hard to find a light And this relationship breaking down And karma always comes back around They're gonna drown in the down down They're Mr and Mrs's negativity They've never got anything positive to say She wants everything to be her way He could care less what she has to say He wants every girl in his sight He has no feelings for his wife She's staring at the clock Counting down the minutes until he comes home She wants him to herself She's hurt, she really loves him Be he really doesn't give a **** What she's feeling in her heart Her tortured soul will be the masterpiece of his art They're Mr and Mrs's negativity They've never got anything positive to say They're emotionally drained every day Trying to find a smile in these hard times but in these dark days, it's hard to find a light And this relationship breaking down And karma always comes back around They're gonna drown in the down down They're Mr and Mrs's negativity They've never got anything positive to say He needs money for the bills She's got thoughts of leaving him She's got those initial kind of feelings She still loves him so it's hard to leave When he is everything she feels she needs And she knows that she deserves better She's finding the strength and courage To walk out of that door and so She tells him, he will lose everything He shrugs it off and takes another swig of his drink They're Mr and Mrs's negativity They've never got anything positive to say They're emotionally drained every day Trying to find a smile in these hard times but in these dark days, it's hard to find a light And this relationship breaking down And karma always comes back around They're gonna drown in the down down They're Mr and Mrs's negativity They've never got anything positive to say She's got the car packed Ready to make a change Find happiness and a future somewhere new As she goes to walk out the door He strikes her across the face She falls to the floor He raises his voice in anger You will never leave me you, little ***** Tears run from her eyes bruised and beaten Mascara streaming down her cheeks So much weakness in her body Can't find the strength to pick herself back up She tries with all her might But she's stuck lying on the floor They're Mr and Mrs's negativity They've never got anything positive to say They're emotionally drained every day Trying to find a smile in these hard times but in these dark days, it's hard to find a light And this relationship breaking down And karma always comes back around They're gonna drown in the down down They're Mr and Mrs's negativity They've never got anything positive to say He's barely thinking straight Alcohol overtakes his decisions His eyes, now blurred vision his sitting next to her on the floor Too drunk to even stand, his limits His at his end, he rips off her dress he gives her every inch That alcohol breath She breathes it in, crying and afraid She can't even think straight How did it get to this stage ***** battered and bruised The one she loved Completely broke her trust And now nothing will ever be the same She'll be haunted by memories for the rest of her days They're Mr and Mrs's negativity They've never got anything positive to say They're emotionally drained every day Trying to find a smile in these hard times but in these dark days, it's hard to find a light And this relationship breaking down And karma always comes back around They're gonna drown in the down down They're Mr and Mrs's negativity They've never got anything positive to say ©2017 Written By Benji James
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Oct 10, 2017
Oct 10, 2017 at 7:56 AM UTC
Mr and Mrs's Negativity
She's hot, He's not They've got nothing in common He's out drinking away his problems She's at home sitting on the bed crying His seeing other girls While she's all alone at home And these two souls Should be walking separate paths Both hurt and ache inside Both mentally troubled in their mind This situation just doesn't feel right They're Mr and Mrs's negativity They've never got anything positive to say They're emotionally drained every day Trying to find a smile in these hard times but in these dark days, it's hard to find a light And this relationship breaking down And karma always comes back around They're gonna drown in the down down They're Mr and Mrs's negativity They've never got anything positive to say She wants everything to be her way He could care less what she has to say He wants every girl in his sight He has no feelings for his wife She's staring at the clock Counting down the minutes until he comes home She wants him to herself She's hurt, she really loves him Be he really doesn't give a **** What she's feeling in her heart Her tortured soul will be the masterpiece of his art They're Mr and Mrs's negativity They've never got anything positive to say They're emotionally drained every day Trying to find a smile in these hard times but in these dark days, it's hard to find a light And this relationship breaking down And karma always comes back around They're gonna drown in the down down They're Mr and Mrs's negativity They've never got anything positive to say He needs money for the bills She's got thoughts of leaving him She's got those initial kind of feelings She still loves him so it's hard to leave When he is everything she feels she needs And she knows that she deserves better She's finding the strength and courage To walk out of that door and so She tells him, he will lose everything He shrugs it off and takes another swig of his drink They're Mr and Mrs's negativity They've never got anything positive to say They're emotionally drained every day Trying to find a smile in these hard times but in these dark days, it's hard to find a light And this relationship breaking down And karma always comes back around They're gonna drown in the down down They're Mr and Mrs's negativity They've never got anything positive to say She's got the car packed Ready to make a change Find happiness and a future somewhere new As she goes to walk out the door He strikes her across the face She falls to the floor He raises his voice in anger You will never leave me you, little ***** Tears run from her eyes bruised and beaten Mascara streaming down her cheeks So much weakness in her body Can't find the strength to pick herself back up She tries with all her might But she's stuck lying on the floor They're Mr and Mrs's negativity They've never got anything positive to say They're emotionally drained every day Trying to find a smile in these hard times but in these dark days, it's hard to find a light And this relationship breaking down And karma always comes back around They're gonna drown in the down down They're Mr and Mrs's negativity They've never got anything positive to say He's barely thinking straight Alcohol overtakes his decisions His eyes, now blurred vision his sitting next to her on the floor Too drunk to even stand, his limits His at his end, he rips off her dress he gives her every inch That alcohol breath She breathes it in, crying and afraid She can't even think straight How did it get to this stage ***** battered and bruised The one she loved Completely broke her trust And now nothing will ever be the same She'll be haunted by memories for the rest of her days They're Mr and Mrs's negativity They've never got anything positive to say They're emotionally drained every day Trying to find a smile in these hard times but in these dark days, it's hard to find a light And this relationship breaking down And karma always comes back around They're gonna drown in the down down They're Mr and Mrs's negativity They've never got anything positive to say ©2017 Written By Benji James
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114
amsterdam. tension. relief. release. accent. bowl. swig. bowl. bowl. reverend. mole. alley. fifth beer. bowl. sixth beer. blur. catching up. *** standing up. normalcy. hiding. secrets. bowl. friends. family. couch. spinning. smiling. exit. diner. bathroom floor. steam. bowl. her legs. beautiful. her teeth. beautiful. it hurts. keep going. sleep. sweat. 8 am. warm wind. splitting headache. packing. bowl. relief. amsterdam.
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Dec 3, 2014
Dec 3, 2014 at 6:02 PM UTC
Amsterdam
Writing Synonymous with a drug Miming the story in my head Does not take the edge Off. No, I must physically take a swig Sling the pen on the paper See the words in their truest form Word-vomit on the page Drunk with laughter, tears and rage High on prose People And places I must create Or I'll die Just one more sentence Maybe two And then I'll find my way In this bed I'll stay This will be the last time I write at 3am ... I promise...
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Feb 17, 2022
Feb 17, 2022 at 3:49 AM UTC
Intoxicated
V. Ethereal Maybe being drunk is the closest I will ever get to zero gravity-- to walking on the moon. My fingers curled around the neck of a liquor bottle,   I wander to my bedroom window, as a tipsy weightlessness settles amongst my limbs (and my thoughts). Swaying slightly, I part the curtains and, in my intoxicated stupor, search for Polaris in the night sky, point to it, press a clumsy hand to the glass, convince myself that I have captured the star, and all the omniscient power it possesses, beneath my finger tips. Star light, {lips pant-- inebriated, heavy} star bright, {my breath appears a catalyst as the window pane glazes over in an impenetrable paroxysm of fog} first star I see tonight, {I take a swig, raise the bottle-- a toast to the cosmos} I wish I may, {Lashes meet in silent matrimony} I wish I might, {Behind closed, desperate eyes, ribbons of colour dance towards me in a disoriented jig} have this wish I wish tonight-- to be obliterated by the very galaxy that birthed these grieving bones and this tumultuous heart. Because only then-- as the Gods paint the Night with the innards of my soul, acrylic purples churning against the blackness-- will I become what I have always dreamed of becoming: Lovely. Ethereal.
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Sep 25, 2018
Sep 25, 2018 at 11:57 AM UTC
I, Ophelia (Part Five--Ethereal)
Grasping hold of the glass i watched the night clock off, Draining the paper held within my fingers, Slipping down my throat till the tide had long gone out, Feet tapping along with the throbing of the night. I sit there observing that figure of male perfection, Happy and cheerful, dancing this memorable night away, And I stand, lowering my glass, stumble my way towards him, Where he notices me finally, I smile, he smiles too. I sway with him, and the others, always looking into the depths, Losing my mind, feeling lighter than the balloons that hang freely, And I think an uncontrolable thought, to reach out to him, But as the moment passes, I swig another mouthful, and everything fades into nothingness.
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Mar 20, 2010
Mar 20, 2010 at 9:01 AM UTC
Helping Hand
blood stained fingernails hollow eyed intestine pasta with a beating heart side you don't need it but i need it a swig of ipecac to polish off your favorite shade of wine a kick of copper and regret but i am eating her stomach grew smaller she drowned a little deeper a nasty lie beneath gritted teeth come back darling, dinner is served
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Sep 14, 2014
Sep 14, 2014 at 11:43 PM UTC
cannibalism
It's two in the morning & I can't fall asleep My mind is feeling restless From all these thoughts that never leave I remember simpler days Wishing I could move away Five years down the line Now look at where I stay Sleeping in my homies truck In a sketchy parking lot Up & early before dawn Plug my headphones Music on Off to work that 9 to 5 Putting in that over time Cash my check then realize IRS took every dime **** this government of mine Take our checks & say it's right Swipe my card & get declined They make it hard to stay alive **** I'm tired of this life But I ain't thinking suicide For if I do they satisfied Much rather fight for what is mine Is there a way for this to change If there is then lead the way Living bumy day to day Tell me how the **** can one maintain When they come up on your pay A fallen victim to their game I now start to contemplate Faster routes like Slang some dope & push that yay Pass me the yak I popp the cap Take a swig & I knock it back Lord forgive me for my sins Might just bust my first break in                                                                                - Abraham Avalos
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Aug 10, 2018
Aug 10, 2018 at 11:35 PM UTC
Fallen Victim
Among pelagian travelers, Lost on their lewd conceited way To Massachusetts, Michigan, Miami or L.A., An airborne instrument I sit, Predestined nightly to fulfill Columbia-Giesen-Management's Unfathomable will, By whose election justified, I bring my gospel of the Muse To fundamentalists, to nuns, to Gentiles and to Jews, And daily, seven days a week, Before a local sense has jelled, From talking-site to talking-site Am jet-or-prop-propelled. Though warm my welcome everywhere, I shift so frequently, so fast, I cannot now say where I was The evening before last, Unless some singular event Should intervene to save the place, A truly asinine remark, A soul-bewitching face, Or blessed encounter, full of joy, Unscheduled on the Giesen Plan, With, here, an addict of Tolkien, There, a Charles Williams fan. Since Merit but a dunghill is, I mount the rostrum unafraid: Indeed, 'twere damnable to ask If I am overpaid. Spirit is willing to repeat Without a qualm the same old talk, But Flesh is homesick for our snug Apartment in New York. A sulky fifty-six, he finds A change of mealtime utter hell, Grown far too crotchety to like A luxury hotel. The Bible is a goodly book I always can peruse with zest, But really cannot say the same For Hilton's Be My Guest. Nor bear with equanimity The radio in students' cars, Muzak at breakfast, or--dear God!-- Girl-organists in bars. Then, worst of all, the anxious thought, Each time my plane begins to sink And the No Smoking sign comes on: What will there be to drink? Is this ma milieu where I must How grahamgreeneish! How infra dig! ****** from the bottle in my bag An analeptic swig? Another morning comes: I see, Dwindling below me on the plane, The roofs of one more audience I shall not see again. God bless the lot of them, although I don't remember which was which: God bless the U.S.A., so large, So friendly, and so rich.
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On the Circuit
Among pelagian travelers, Lost on their lewd conceited way To Massachusetts, Michigan, Miami or L.A., An airborne instrument I sit, Predestined nightly to fulfill Columbia-Giesen-Management's Unfathomable will, By whose election justified, I bring my gospel of the Muse To fundamentalists, to nuns, to Gentiles and to Jews, And daily, seven days a week, Before a local sense has jelled, From talking-site to talking-site Am jet-or-prop-propelled. Though warm my welcome everywhere, I shift so frequently, so fast, I cannot now say where I was The evening before last, Unless some singular event Should intervene to save the place, A truly asinine remark, A soul-bewitching face, Or blessed encounter, full of joy, Unscheduled on the Giesen Plan, With, here, an addict of Tolkien, There, a Charles Williams fan. Since Merit but a dunghill is, I mount the rostrum unafraid: Indeed, 'twere damnable to ask If I am overpaid. Spirit is willing to repeat Without a qualm the same old talk, But Flesh is homesick for our snug Apartment in New York. A sulky fifty-six, he finds A change of mealtime utter hell, Grown far too crotchety to like A luxury hotel. The Bible is a goodly book I always can peruse with zest, But really cannot say the same For Hilton's Be My Guest. Nor bear with equanimity The radio in students' cars, Muzak at breakfast, or--dear God!-- Girl-organists in bars. Then, worst of all, the anxious thought, Each time my plane begins to sink And the No Smoking sign comes on: What will there be to drink? Is this ma milieu where I must How grahamgreeneish! How infra dig! ****** from the bottle in my bag An analeptic swig? Another morning comes: I see, Dwindling below me on the plane, The roofs of one more audience I shall not see again. God bless the lot of them, although I don't remember which was which: God bless the U.S.A., so large, So friendly, and so rich.
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63
London City is the name of the game, Where no two lives are ever the same. Every corner Every turn, Every young person will cause concern. Life of crime or life of hate, Watch your back on every estate. Busy buses and busy streets, Liars, Thieves, Haters and Cheats! London City aint no Paradise, Your luck can change when you roll the dice. Take a step wrong or right, No matter if you’re black or white. Life is life and death is death, Right down until your very last breath. Fights and gangs, Knives and guns, Cursing on daughters and curing on sons. Using weapons small or big, Whether you’re drunk or had a swig. No matter what path you choose to go down, London City is always your Home town!
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Nov 22, 2013
Nov 22, 2013 at 4:22 PM UTC
London City.
Standing here at the pier, I take in my surroundings, trying to keep my heart steady and my mind clear. A crowd envelopes me as we all wait for that one person. Men are holding flowers, Women holding children, Children holding signs. Standing here at the pier, I hold nothing but my heart in my hands, Waiting until we may embrace again. My mouth waters while my stomach twists into knots. The air tastes of candy scented perfume. Trying to get rid of the taste, I take a swig of cold, refreshing water that also helps ease my stomach Standing here at the pier, My stomach ties in knots, Waiting to see your face again. Figures start to head my way. I gasp. Frantically, my eyes search the crowd, Searching for just a glimpse of you. Standing here at the pier, My heart will not steady, My mind hectic with just wanting to see you. The crowd starts to disappear, They've found they're family They're heading home With their family, and I'm Standing here at the pier, Longing to find you, Wishing to find you soon. A tall figure starts heading in my direction. I squint to see Is that you? My lungs fill with air and I run. My vision blurs, but its okay. I know where I'm going. I'm running. Running home to my family. Our bodies collide in a warm embrace, I'm lifted up off the ground and swung around, "I've missed you so much, Dad." I tell him through sobs. "I've missed you too baby girl. Lets go home." Linking our pinkies together, we walk Together again. We're headed home.
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Jul 19, 2013
Jul 19, 2013 at 11:54 PM UTC
Homecoming
Breaking the hush of the summer day Chee-keeee trills the bird as it waits for prey Catches one swallows skyward easy Then for the next gets ready. You love its intent solemn eyes The brown neck and the blue shine Its impassive posture that’s only a disguise To pounce on the prey and merrily dine. It perches on the lightest twig A dreamer and a hunter in one rolled Scanning the water for a large swig Big enough for its beak to hold. Sometimes the wait may be long You imagine his eyes in sleep droop Then in a flash proving you wrong The blue streak would on the catch swoop. Rain brings it an ecstatic thrill It loves to be drenched in the showers To reap the harvest of a daylong meal Never tired of long hunting hours. If it ever god forbid so happens You don’t see anymore this creature Know streams have dried up there’re no rains And with them has vanished Kingfisher!
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May 31, 2013
May 31, 2013 at 7:55 AM UTC
Kingfisher
Saffron, delights, rubies and gold Crushed silvers from the shores Cornish tin, copper green as mould Heathers from the mauve moors. Buttercups and daisies in an English lawn Red and white spotted fungi in the wood Hedges laden with gems stripped and torn Smashed diamonds embedded in the mud. Little gems sparkle like prisms on the twig Fat with juice, brimming with good Good enough to eat, best to swig.
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Aug 25, 2014
Aug 25, 2014 at 4:16 AM UTC
Gems
With Good Business brewed is Good Business told Confirmed the New Mentor who taught us well Such swig a Sterling Medicine behold But knowing our Skills his Avid Trust spell Forsought this Blue Trade our Clients rely Was that our Webbed Gifts can reciprocate That within those Months our Service apply To increase the Bank's volume aggregate Such now our Eagle wears; Tri-Coloured Schemes Weaved in pleats forth to Genious unique And if we can prove to maintain those Seams Will he be Proud of our Learning oblique. Once that's done, to the Pub he tips his Zest All the more content our Minds would not guess.
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Mar 13, 2013
Mar 13, 2013 at 2:29 AM UTC
SONNET TRIBUTE: STEPHEN CADWALLADER
Let's dance to the boogie in the room. Hearts pound, energy abound, the hips sway. Cyclical time baby caught in the flume. Fall into me sweetheart, your soul's astray. Arm spread eagles escape into the sound. Could we maybe find peace in this madness? Further gone, blue, red, green, and white abound. EVERYBODY! This love we must address. One more hit, swig, swag, tab, maybe a dab and we're off on the moon again singin. Lay all your innocent out on the slab cuz darlin o girl their love'll be ringin.
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Aug 30, 2018
Aug 30, 2018 at 2:16 PM UTC
Neon Lights and a little Jam