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"tamer" poems
XXII. TO POSEIDON (7 lines) (ll. 1-5) I begin to sing about Poseidon, the great god, mover of the earth and fruitless sea, god of the deep who is also lord of Helicon and wide Aegae. A two-fold office the gods allotted you, O Shaker of the Earth, to be a tamer of horses and a saviour of ships! (ll. 6-7) Hail, Poseidon, Holder of the Earth, dark-haired lord! O blessed one, be kindly in heart and help those who voyage in ships!
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The Homeric Hymns: 22- To Poseidon
Bluto, the world’s strongest man, could tear bread loaf-sized pieces off a steel-belted tractor tire with his bare hands. But he could not lift a single smithereen of his sensitive Piscean heart when Lily, the luscious, leggy Leo trapeze artist, left him for steely-eyed Arien Karl, the literate and literary lion tamer. Horoscopic Circus, Act II She was a Cancer Dragon. Like catnip to the Piscean Tiger, whose feline DNA was his Achilles heel. Especially when she wore heels. And nylons. The end is nylon, he thought. I love you she said. I love you more he affirmed. And firm he soon became. Then being the ringmaster, she opened her mouth and incinerated him -- as only dragons can….
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Jun 10, 2015
Jun 10, 2015 at 1:53 PM UTC
Horoscopic Circus
Twelve Olympians, to rule as they choose. Twelve Olympians, we'll start with Zeus. God of sky, thunder, lightning, law. Ruled the Olympians with the justice he saw. Commonly referred to as the Father. Next is Poseidon, God of Water. "A tamer of horses and a saviour of ships," Said in one of Homer's hymns. Next is Hera, Queen of the Gods, and of women. Giving mothers a carriage, and marriage to men. Next is Demeter, Goddess of Harvest, giving fertility. Hades captured her daughter, Persephone, and her virginity. Then there's Athena, Goddess of Wisdom. Lept out of Zeus' head, and earned her throne in the kingdom. Apollo is next, God of Music, Poetry, Light. Also capable of bringing plague and plight. Artemis, Goddess of Moon and Hunt, and Apollo's twin. Guided mothers through childbirth, a sacred ****** Also, beloved Aphrodite, Goddess of Love. Lover of Ares, who favored battles and blood. Only Hephaestus and Aphrodite were wed. Fire, metalwork, art of sculpture he led. Also, there's Hermes, a god bringing word. Among other things, guide to the Underworld. Finally, there's Hesta, Goddess of the Hearth. Feeding families and serving the home with warmth. Twelve Olympians, to rule the sky. Twelve Olympians, give your memory a try.
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Jan 22, 2014
Jan 22, 2014 at 9:10 PM UTC
The Twelve Olympians
The Lion Tamer is Bold. The Lion Tamer is Strong. The Lion Tamer is Smart. The Lion Tamer Is Courageous.                   The Lion Tamer Trust Her Lion Even after been attacked from Lions Before. The Lion Tamer Knows how to Calm her Lion when Hes In Roar. The Lion Tamer Tames the Lion in Me.
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Nov 7, 2012
Nov 7, 2012 at 1:52 PM UTC
The Lion Tamer
Sometimes I sit and wonder about the past. I reflect and let it affect my present- my future- It makes me wonder if I can ever really put it past me. Sometimes- most times- I sit and think about what you did to me. I was never this angry until I met you, I had never lost my temper over the slightest of issues. My anger was locked in a cage, like a lion in a den, away from all walks of life, because it was too ferocious too loud, too dangerous to let loose. You made me feel like a lion. You made me feel like a lion, but told me I was a butterfly. You were adding extra security to the cage while making me thinking you were trying your hardest to pry it open. You forced me to believe that you, and only you, could ever love someone like me- A lion- I mean butterfly. I refer to you as my ex-girlfriend even though I can still feel your words caress my skin. Even though every time I see a picture of you or hear your name my heart still skips a beat, even though it still feels like I'm a lion, trapped in a cage, as if you still have a hold on me. I still refer to you as an ex-girlfriend even though you never acted like it. You told our friends that I was frail- too fragile to hold- too hard to love, But before you, I was gorilla glass- protective and strong, But you made me feel like a lion and told me I was a butterfly, so my default mode began to play second fiddle. I don't think I want you back. I'm starting to find happiness in others, Solitude only comforts me when I can feel my anger- the lion within me, trying to break free from the cage. I've met someone who tells me I'm a beautiful, Someone who is trying to help me break free from the cage without tearing my claws off. Who lets me know I am a lion, but I could be a butterfly, and that either or is okay. I hope that whomever you decide is worthy to join the circus you've declared yourself the lion tamer of is strong enough to say no and walk away.
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May 24, 2016
May 24, 2016 at 4:45 PM UTC
the lion and its tamer
Sometimes I sit and wonder about the past. I reflect and let it affect my present- my future- It makes me wonder if I can ever really put it past me. Sometimes- most times- I sit and think about what you did to me. I was never this angry until I met you, I had never lost my temper over the slightest of issues. My anger was locked in a cage, like a lion in a den, away from all walks of life, because it was too ferocious too loud, too dangerous to let loose. You made me feel like a lion. You made me feel like a lion, but told me I was a butterfly. You were adding extra security to the cage while making me thinking you were trying your hardest to pry it open. You forced me to believe that you, and only you, could ever love someone like me- A lion- I mean butterfly. I refer to you as my ex-girlfriend even though I can still feel your words caress my skin. Even though every time I see a picture of you or hear your name my heart still skips a beat, even though it still feels like I'm a lion, trapped in a cage, as if you still have a hold on me. I still refer to you as an ex-girlfriend even though you never acted like it. You told our friends that I was frail- too fragile to hold- too hard to love, But before you, I was gorilla glass- protective and strong, But you made me feel like a lion and told me I was a butterfly, so my default mode began to play second fiddle. I don't think I want you back. I'm starting to find happiness in others, Solitude only comforts me when I can feel my anger- the lion within me, trying to break free from the cage. I've met someone who tells me I'm a beautiful, Someone who is trying to help me break free from the cage without tearing my claws off. Who lets me know I am a lion, but I could be a butterfly, and that either or is okay. I hope that whomever you decide is worthy to join the circus you've declared yourself the lion tamer of is strong enough to say no and walk away.
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Daughter of Jove, relentless Power, Thou tamer of the human breast, Whose iron scourge and tort’ring hour The Bad affright, afflict the Best! Bound in thy adamantine chain The Proud are taught to taste of pain, And purple Tyrants vainly groan With pangs unfelt before, unpitied and alone. When first thy Sire to send on earth Virtue, his darling child, designed, To thee he gave the heav’nly Birth, And bade to form her infant mind. Stern rugged Nurse! thy rigid lore With patience many a year she bore: What sorrow was, thou bad’st her know, And from her own she learned to melt at others’ woe. Scared at thy frown terrific, fly Self-pleasing Folly’s idle brood, Wild Laughter, Noise, and thoughtless Joy, And leave us leisure to be good. Light they disperse, and with them go The summer Friend, the flatt’ring Foe; By vain Prosperity received, To her they vow their truth, and are again believed. Wisdom in sable garb arrayed Immersed in rapt’rous thought profound, And Melancholy, silent maid With leaden eye, that loves the ground, Still on thy solemn steps attend: Warm Charity, the gen’ral Friend, With Justice, to herself severe, And Pity dropping soft the sadly-pleasing tear. Oh, gently on thy Suppliant’s head, Dread Goddess, lay thy chast’ning hand! Not in thy Gorgon terrors clad, Not circled with the vengeful Band (As by the Impious thou art seen), With thund’ring voice, and threat’ning mien, With screaming Horror’s funeral cry, Despair, and fell Disease, and ghastly Poverty. Thy form benign, O Goddess, wear, Thy milder influence impart, Thy philosophic Train be there To soften, not to wound my heart. The gen’rous spark extinct revive, Teach me to love and to forgive, Exact my own defects to scan, What others are, to feel, and know myself a Man.
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Hymn To Adversity
Daughter of Jove, relentless Power, Thou tamer of the human breast, Whose iron scourge and tort’ring hour The Bad affright, afflict the Best! Bound in thy adamantine chain The Proud are taught to taste of pain, And purple Tyrants vainly groan With pangs unfelt before, unpitied and alone. When first thy Sire to send on earth Virtue, his darling child, designed, To thee he gave the heav’nly Birth, And bade to form her infant mind. Stern rugged Nurse! thy rigid lore With patience many a year she bore: What sorrow was, thou bad’st her know, And from her own she learned to melt at others’ woe. Scared at thy frown terrific, fly Self-pleasing Folly’s idle brood, Wild Laughter, Noise, and thoughtless Joy, And leave us leisure to be good. Light they disperse, and with them go The summer Friend, the flatt’ring Foe; By vain Prosperity received, To her they vow their truth, and are again believed. Wisdom in sable garb arrayed Immersed in rapt’rous thought profound, And Melancholy, silent maid With leaden eye, that loves the ground, Still on thy solemn steps attend: Warm Charity, the gen’ral Friend, With Justice, to herself severe, And Pity dropping soft the sadly-pleasing tear. Oh, gently on thy Suppliant’s head, Dread Goddess, lay thy chast’ning hand! Not in thy Gorgon terrors clad, Not circled with the vengeful Band (As by the Impious thou art seen), With thund’ring voice, and threat’ning mien, With screaming Horror’s funeral cry, Despair, and fell Disease, and ghastly Poverty. Thy form benign, O Goddess, wear, Thy milder influence impart, Thy philosophic Train be there To soften, not to wound my heart. The gen’rous spark extinct revive, Teach me to love and to forgive, Exact my own defects to scan, What others are, to feel, and know myself a Man.
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48
Irreplaceable you, Drifting into my world With so little a care As the heat of the evening Turned into a sordid affair Irreplaceable you, Riding me gently, tamer Of heavy waves Tangled together in shadows -- For you, I’ll always misbehave Irreplaceable you, Slipping from my grasp And into another’s  -- Trembling toward your kiss Tell me I’m your only lover Irreplaceable you, But replaceable me Left to wilt at the shoreline While you sailed off to sea.
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Apr 14, 2017
Apr 14, 2017 at 6:55 PM UTC
irreplaceable you
i never pegged you for someone swept up by razzle dazzle, infatuated with muscle men, acrobats, and stars. your view on animal rights, seemingly discarded, for an elephant's tricks, the lion tamer's whip, the tent apparently blocking out harsh judging light. i viewed you as critical, skeptical of spectacle, squinting unsure, behind those black wayfarers, the image constructed in my mind, supported by that vintage dress, the style of your hair, the music you listened to on the car ride over, how can you be satisfied with this carnival fare? frivolous displays favoured over subtle gestures, superficial appearances favoured over chemistry, hollow showman dialogue echoing over loudspeakers favoured over a conversation, perhaps i'm a hypocrite, your attributes simply skewed, by my being swept up in the razzle dazzle spectacle of you. (i'll be in the hall of mirrors)
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Oct 13, 2011
Oct 13, 2011 at 1:38 AM UTC
circus
Where lonely camels roam, dunes in darkness lay And myriads of stars glow in disarray. Solely the morning star, lone wanderer, shines bright And thus illuminates this dark Moroccan night. As the gleaming eye of heaven rises in the East, wake the weary nomad and his weary beast. And as it reaches zenith, the heat burning the flesh, they reach their destination: the vibrant Marrakech. Explosion of colors, spices galore Sold on bazaars selling infinitely more A snake tamer plays his tunes in a trance and the dervishes do their habitual dance. And with every turn, every swish, every sway, Unfolds like a dream the Moroccan day. 'Til the sun sets again in this wondrous land To darken once more the kingdom of sand.
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Jan 28, 2017
Jan 28, 2017 at 6:33 PM UTC
Dance of the Dervishes
I became whole But my body was broken Ridden with age, I grabbed my last token Into the machine My luck was spent The scythe to my back To Hell I was sent Hell is a hole Hell is a mountain Whether you fall Or whether you found it You climb and you reach But the air just gets thinner You grind at your teeth But you are the dinner You fight and you wrythe But the chains cut you deeper You find what was lost And why you can't keep her I left my soul In a devil's arcade 'Neath a pile of clubs Hearts diamond and spades I tasted the blood And sulfur and ash The wine hit my teeth Like a tamer's quick lash My body was broken Whole was I made When I sold my soul In the devil's arcade
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May 16, 2014
May 16, 2014 at 12:29 AM UTC
The Devil's Arcade
i know you think im joking but a pervert saved my life she came to me one day to **** me with a knife i said oh no no no don't do it ill do anything you say then she said im a perv and i want your love all day but to love a perv is icky your a creepy girl she made me smell her feet and dance a spinning  twirl wow she said you did that well why don't you stand on your head look up my dress and say im hot or for sure you will be dead i realized she was very odd and asked her what was wrong she said i was married forever and couldn't have his **** so i went off my rocker not getting what i needed but made believe for years that i was never ever cheated then one day i snapped and cried for lust all day so they called me purvy ***** and tried to keep me away the more i went with out the hornier i got until one day in torment i loved the smell of rot i fell in love with filth and to this very day i have no scruples at all ill do anything for a lay now pull your pants off and show me your little **** dam its so cute ill lick your lolly pop she used her tongue like a twizzler it was really fun and then i realized i was like her and my life as a perv begun so if your starved for love and craving ***** lust you might as well join the ranks of pervy folks r us 99% Switch 96% Degrader 94% Rope bunny 93% Dominant 90% Rigger 89% Degradee 88% Sadist 87% Brat tamer 83% Submissive 83% ****** 81% ********* 79% Master/Mistress 76% Primal (Prey) 74% Primal (Hunter) 74% Experimentalist 73% Brat 62% Non-monogamist 50% Owner 47% Vanilla 43% Slave 42% Daddy/Mommy 38% Exhibitionist 10% Ageplayer 100% Girl/Boy 7% Pet....meow
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Jan 3, 2017
Jan 3, 2017 at 9:23 AM UTC
Perverts R us
i know you think im joking but a pervert saved my life she came to me one day to **** me with a knife i said oh no no no don't do it ill do anything you say then she said im a perv and i want your love all day but to love a perv is icky your a creepy girl she made me smell her feet and dance a spinning  twirl wow she said you did that well why don't you stand on your head look up my dress and say im hot or for sure you will be dead i realized she was very odd and asked her what was wrong she said i was married forever and couldn't have his **** so i went off my rocker not getting what i needed but made believe for years that i was never ever cheated then one day i snapped and cried for lust all day so they called me purvy ***** and tried to keep me away the more i went with out the hornier i got until one day in torment i loved the smell of rot i fell in love with filth and to this very day i have no scruples at all ill do anything for a lay now pull your pants off and show me your little **** dam its so cute ill lick your lolly pop she used her tongue like a twizzler it was really fun and then i realized i was like her and my life as a perv begun so if your starved for love and craving ***** lust you might as well join the ranks of pervy folks r us 99% Switch 96% Degrader 94% Rope bunny 93% Dominant 90% Rigger 89% Degradee 88% Sadist 87% Brat tamer 83% Submissive 83% ****** 81% ********* 79% Master/Mistress 76% Primal (Prey) 74% Primal (Hunter) 74% Experimentalist 73% Brat 62% Non-monogamist 50% Owner 47% Vanilla 43% Slave 42% Daddy/Mommy 38% Exhibitionist 10% Ageplayer 100% Girl/Boy 7% Pet....meow
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Somebody put Kylie Minogue on from the wall mounted touchscreen one-pound-a-go jukebox- Coldplay would've been better, but I should be so lucky- and the rising water in the Titanic's engine room of noise rose to a First Class stateroom chatter and Kate Winslet and the queue to the bar grew a little longer and then you walked in like a Sunday morning walk, one long stroll by a river edge or lake side, through a Westfield, Bluewater Meadowhall in one long rehearsed map move entrance dodging standing drinkers and their plus ones in Zara trench coats and Boden shawls, and you left a wake of wet forest and crumbling beachhead afternoons behind you as you walked on through the crowd to the pool table at the back where you watched *** after *** after pint after *** after we need more one pound coins to play more pool, and you went out for **** though you don't smoke yourself and you looked up into the mist because you're the kind that would find New York Stuart Little big: mostly building, building, building, window, balcony, bridge, statue and Central Park trees, and you walked back in with river eyes, your lids moving from cold back to behind-the-fridge, pub-room warm and they watered a little, Pacific blue sliding over eternal black; I think she's the kind that needs a lion tamer not an orchestra leader, but I've only got Petit Filous muscles and I had four raw eggs this morning and I'm still not as strong as I’d like to be, (put the baton down, Tim) a River Phoenix younger Harrison Ford stasis, one train wreck ride to remember, nowhere near the lion tamer you need. Kylie sings for the fifteenth time in a row, and the bar is past last orders though cash is pushed under for pints and you disappeared under bar light and then into the moonlight and now I'm sat grieving the Golden Retriever of The Nutshell in Bury St Edmunds this evening.
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May 1, 2015
May 1, 2015 at 12:26 PM UTC
YOGURT FOR A HEART
Somebody put Kylie Minogue on from the wall mounted touchscreen one-pound-a-go jukebox- Coldplay would've been better, but I should be so lucky- and the rising water in the Titanic's engine room of noise rose to a First Class stateroom chatter and Kate Winslet and the queue to the bar grew a little longer and then you walked in like a Sunday morning walk, one long stroll by a river edge or lake side, through a Westfield, Bluewater Meadowhall in one long rehearsed map move entrance dodging standing drinkers and their plus ones in Zara trench coats and Boden shawls, and you left a wake of wet forest and crumbling beachhead afternoons behind you as you walked on through the crowd to the pool table at the back where you watched *** after *** after pint after *** after we need more one pound coins to play more pool, and you went out for **** though you don't smoke yourself and you looked up into the mist because you're the kind that would find New York Stuart Little big: mostly building, building, building, window, balcony, bridge, statue and Central Park trees, and you walked back in with river eyes, your lids moving from cold back to behind-the-fridge, pub-room warm and they watered a little, Pacific blue sliding over eternal black; I think she's the kind that needs a lion tamer not an orchestra leader, but I've only got Petit Filous muscles and I had four raw eggs this morning and I'm still not as strong as I’d like to be, (put the baton down, Tim) a River Phoenix younger Harrison Ford stasis, one train wreck ride to remember, nowhere near the lion tamer you need. Kylie sings for the fifteenth time in a row, and the bar is past last orders though cash is pushed under for pints and you disappeared under bar light and then into the moonlight and now I'm sat grieving the Golden Retriever of The Nutshell in Bury St Edmunds this evening.
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I am dream, made flesh! Cut from your design Burning, Inflamed, Caressed by your Love..... Purrrrrring softly... Naked heart-print's press upon the tissue Of trembling thunder; I bend Beneath his breath While he permeates A rake of glittered stars Across my skin; The barrier Between his tongue and my scent... Scarlet He holds me ... liquid, Framed to his eyes, Teased ******* hard; The melt of ice, fed on The heat of his tongue; Shedding night's skin In shades of twilight... Dark, eyes gaze through mine Caressing Silken pleasures; The moistness of a stolen kiss, Willing, wet, Tasting the tender; Of palpitating curves, Of Soft thighs, quivering Moving Slow enough to Swallow... A tigress, unleashed, beneath Her tamer's trance I vary my pose, The audacity of my savage Innocence Meets his gaze, River-wild and dark, The moment.... opaque Darkened silk; The slide, Palms down, My skin alive at the burn As hips gyrate On the rub Burning where shadows curve, Creating the fire of Hunger... A writhe of craze A pause to breathe To shut hard The breath of me As he inhales Slim ecstasies, skin Seizures Immersed in milky secrets Weak, with love.....
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Oct 16, 2012
Oct 16, 2012 at 3:15 PM UTC
Slim Ecstasies:
You're the leader in our circus. She the lion tamer, I the dancer. At your call she sends the lions in action. At your call, I let them come. I take the attacks for foolish action- I take it all for you. We do this waltz of love and hate- Life and death. I stood in the ring to take them on. The Lions and their Tamer. I took them on as you watched us Tango. Orchestrating the tension and the hate. Pinning all on me for the sake of your show. The Ring Master.
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Nov 9, 2012
Nov 9, 2012 at 12:20 AM UTC
Ring Master
I've learned to trace The curves of your name Through marks on my skin that were all too straight And I've rubbed them raw- Scarlet, aching, throbbing, Irritated because of how many times I've dug my nails Into the memory of you carved into my shoulder, Or my wrist, thigh, hip... The list goes on, and so do you, Even when the licks of fire turn tamer, whiter, faded With time that tries to give me relief but makes me PANIC Instead, Because at least when it's all fresh, I can hear your voice in my ear And the cut of your jib is outlined by the cut on my... well, anything. I want your fingers wrapped around my waist But in my mind's clouded eye you pull away Every time, and all I feel is rain drops on amber skin, and the blade grips ever tighter. Normal girls who cry at night and not at sunset Have stretch marks guiding their insecurity, But I bet you've never been to a lido with your parents After getting a new tattoo of a bitter I'll-never-know's name imprinted on your arm... And if you have, well, you'll never tell me Because even though I trace you every time I'm reminded of your seaside green glass eyes I haven't looked the past in the face Since the last time you said you'd see me soon.
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Aug 3, 2018
Aug 3, 2018 at 1:40 PM UTC
Tracing the past
So I was walking down the street the other day, smoking my cigarette, and enjoying it, and singing fake songs to myself, and I walk past a small car, and it made me stop, because its strange to see a small car on my street. Especially a small car painted in bright clown colors, and especially a small clown colored car filled with smoke, and especially a small clown colored car filled with smoke and what looks to be clowns. So I decided to investigate, and I walked up, and I tapped on the window, and as soon as I did all I could hear was screaming and kicking. I took a step back because I mean **** what if it exploded? And as the small colorful clown car door opened, smoke poured out, billowing and puffing, very strange smelling smoke of all different colors, and i began to wonder if it wasn't me who was tripping ball's, as 1.. no 2.. no 12 huge bug eyed clowns crawled out. Gawking and hissing and juggling crack pipes. The first one asked my name. I lied of course. You never trust a cracked out clown, not even with your name. The second one asked me my age. I lied of course, because it's a well known fact crack clowns are pedophiles and he might have tried to have his way with me if I told him the truth about my tender young age. The third asked me for a cigarette. I gave it to him of course, out of sheer terror that if I didn't he might use his circus tricks to pull a colorful rag out of his *** and choke me to death with it and I didn't want that. The rest of them just kind of stared at me or screamed or sniffed my clothing and inspected me. After a few minutes of all of this I decided I'd had enough. Talking with clowns is bad karma anyways, and I started to walk away waving politely but no they weren't done with me yet. They hog tide me and covered me in clown make up and adopted me as there new pet monkey /clown driver /lion tamer. But of course, when the police found me naked in a trash can at three in the morning a few hours later still unable to complete whole sentences they wouldn't believe ( or couldn't understand) a word of it but I'll tell you, if you ever see a smoke filled colorful clown car just walk away. We know the truth its ugly, and juggles crack pipes.
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Dec 27, 2012
Dec 27, 2012 at 1:38 AM UTC
Clown Cars (more story than poem)
So I was walking down the street the other day, smoking my cigarette, and enjoying it, and singing fake songs to myself, and I walk past a small car, and it made me stop, because its strange to see a small car on my street. Especially a small car painted in bright clown colors, and especially a small clown colored car filled with smoke, and especially a small clown colored car filled with smoke and what looks to be clowns. So I decided to investigate, and I walked up, and I tapped on the window, and as soon as I did all I could hear was screaming and kicking. I took a step back because I mean **** what if it exploded? And as the small colorful clown car door opened, smoke poured out, billowing and puffing, very strange smelling smoke of all different colors, and i began to wonder if it wasn't me who was tripping ball's, as 1.. no 2.. no 12 huge bug eyed clowns crawled out. Gawking and hissing and juggling crack pipes. The first one asked my name. I lied of course. You never trust a cracked out clown, not even with your name. The second one asked me my age. I lied of course, because it's a well known fact crack clowns are pedophiles and he might have tried to have his way with me if I told him the truth about my tender young age. The third asked me for a cigarette. I gave it to him of course, out of sheer terror that if I didn't he might use his circus tricks to pull a colorful rag out of his *** and choke me to death with it and I didn't want that. The rest of them just kind of stared at me or screamed or sniffed my clothing and inspected me. After a few minutes of all of this I decided I'd had enough. Talking with clowns is bad karma anyways, and I started to walk away waving politely but no they weren't done with me yet. They hog tide me and covered me in clown make up and adopted me as there new pet monkey /clown driver /lion tamer. But of course, when the police found me naked in a trash can at three in the morning a few hours later still unable to complete whole sentences they wouldn't believe ( or couldn't understand) a word of it but I'll tell you, if you ever see a smoke filled colorful clown car just walk away. We know the truth its ugly, and juggles crack pipes.
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67
More than one person remembers that day as hot and tasting of catastrophe in the flavor of airbag dust and gasoline. We were talking as you drank your root beer. Windows down. My shoes off… 4:02. Your eyes widen as metal screeches and the revving of engines winds down, a man wearing sunglasses yanks on my door, but it protrudes into the cab. Another man takes you out — shouts to me to move. I can’t find my shoes and my wallet is soaked. Bystanders flock like they would at a circus where a lion’s attacked his tamer. Tears flow more freely than blood. I’m sorry, I’m sorry. God, my fault spills from my bruised lips until finally, I collapse to the pavement like the fender of the opposing Mercedes. I tried but failed to explain that swerving the car to save you meant near-death for me. Only after regret and responsibility that crushed my lungs faded, the way mascara dries, did I acknowledge, I am here.
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Nov 18, 2014
Nov 18, 2014 at 9:38 PM UTC
Liability
XXXIII. TO THE DIOSCURI (19 lines) (ll. 1-17) Bright-eyed Muses, tell of the Tyndaridae, the Sons of Zeus, glorious children of neat-ankled Leda, Castor the tamer of horses, and blameless Polydeuces. When Leda had lain with the dark-clouded Son of Cronos, she bare them beneath the peak of the great hill Taygetus, -- children who are delivers of men on earth and of swift-going ships when stormy gales rage over the ruthless sea. Then the shipmen call upon the sons of great Zeus with vows of white lambs, going to the forepart of the prow; but the strong wind and the waves of the sea lay the ship under water, until suddenly these two are seen darting through the air on tawny wings. Forthwith they allay the blasts of the cruel winds and still the waves upon the surface of the white sea: fair signs are they and deliverance from toil. And when the shipmen see them they are glad and have rest from their pain and labour. (ll. 18-19) Hail, Tyndaridae, riders upon swift horses! Now I will remember you and another song also.
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The Homeric Hymns: 33- To The Dioscuri
Aureole...Manna's descent like showering waveforms. Eyes hungering...upturned, cloven in rapture. Mouth slants open in a salivary click-- come the incantations...come the anatomical sway of microcosm. Intergalactic cynosure, pariah, shaman-- mangy interloper teaching wind to dance! Tamer of the subconscious...mender of schism! Anathema to Gaia's Satanic Stewards! To be sought in the House of Aquarius, haunting its foundation that it may uphold. The roads to and fro are as anagrams that alter with the perceiver. It is the second look, of what's cross with what Is...and ever shall be--that gives rise to disorientation...reincarnation. O grant dancer of self-evidence, grant your sundry incantations... yearning for Gaia's heart of hearts.
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Dec 1, 2014
Dec 1, 2014 at 1:21 PM UTC
Pariah, Shaman
I remember when the circus first came to town, The village people eagerly came to see from all around. Every wild animal on wheels was caged in tow, followed by colorful clad characters on foot sure to give a spectacular show. I remember when I first entered beneath the great big tent and caught the grand act of the peculiar pink elephant. Get Your Peanuts, Popcorn, and Hot Dogs Here!  The Concessionaire yells in a hearty cheer. The taste of cotton candy, the sounds, smells and the sights, Above me a man balances on a tight rope from a view of an incredible height. For the kids, clowns twist and shaped balloons in all odd kind of forms, And stuffed themselves in a tiny car with a toot, toot of a funny sounding horn. The feathered ladies on horseback perform daring acrobatic stunts, as in place the horses prance and dance in a parade of extraordinary pomp. All eyes are on the lion tamer in his tails and fancy top hat twirling a chair and cracking a whip at the growl of the big man eating cat. Tigers jumped through flaming hoops, as human cannonballs towards  the sky their bodies shoot. Little doggies do flips for their treats as acrobats fly through the air performing death defying feats, Or what could be more delightful to see than a bear riding a unicycle or perhaps even three? Finally, comes the grand finale, then soon it is time to go home, the tents have been folded the rides have been loaded the performers and the animals have all gone. On their parents strong shoulder kids are carried off in their sleep with sweet dreams of, fun rides and toy prizes, and candy apple treats. Ferris wheels and merry go rounds, the bearded fat lady weighing a hundred pounds. I remember a girl on a wire, the boy that spits fire a man with his head in the jaws of a tiger. Reminiscing of the time when the circus first came to town And the village people eagerly came to see from all around.
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Aug 5, 2013
Aug 5, 2013 at 8:26 AM UTC
When the Circus Came to Town
I remember when the circus first came to town, The village people eagerly came to see from all around. Every wild animal on wheels was caged in tow, followed by colorful clad characters on foot sure to give a spectacular show. I remember when I first entered beneath the great big tent and caught the grand act of the peculiar pink elephant. Get Your Peanuts, Popcorn, and Hot Dogs Here!  The Concessionaire yells in a hearty cheer. The taste of cotton candy, the sounds, smells and the sights, Above me a man balances on a tight rope from a view of an incredible height. For the kids, clowns twist and shaped balloons in all odd kind of forms, And stuffed themselves in a tiny car with a toot, toot of a funny sounding horn. The feathered ladies on horseback perform daring acrobatic stunts, as in place the horses prance and dance in a parade of extraordinary pomp. All eyes are on the lion tamer in his tails and fancy top hat twirling a chair and cracking a whip at the growl of the big man eating cat. Tigers jumped through flaming hoops, as human cannonballs towards  the sky their bodies shoot. Little doggies do flips for their treats as acrobats fly through the air performing death defying feats, Or what could be more delightful to see than a bear riding a unicycle or perhaps even three? Finally, comes the grand finale, then soon it is time to go home, the tents have been folded the rides have been loaded the performers and the animals have all gone. On their parents strong shoulder kids are carried off in their sleep with sweet dreams of, fun rides and toy prizes, and candy apple treats. Ferris wheels and merry go rounds, the bearded fat lady weighing a hundred pounds. I remember a girl on a wire, the boy that spits fire a man with his head in the jaws of a tiger. Reminiscing of the time when the circus first came to town And the village people eagerly came to see from all around.
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*Today Is A Quiet Pallette Of Blue Which, In Fact, Sits Secluded From Every Yellow, Pink, And Red, It Is Cold And Quiet--Idle As An Afternoon Rain, Lethargic And Angry, Hard Yet So.. So Silent... Today Is A Blue Day, It Is Bluer Than My Very Soul, It Is A Blue Tuesday, Darker Than A Saturday Night, The Sky Is As Gray As The Sea, But It Is Twinkling, The Notes It Sings Turquoise As Tropic Waters Today Is A Soft Baby Blue, Contorted By A Tough Navy, A Harsh Golden Sunrise Has Turned To A Gray, The Mush Colored Sky Is Tamer For The Blue Eye, And The Blue Eye, Is A Window To A Blue Heart*
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Dec 10, 2013
Dec 10, 2013 at 10:25 PM UTC
A Blue Day
The savage beast was hungry searching for a prey with passion to devour nothing bar his way until the gentle touch of a woman soothed his soul captured his ferocious heart taking full control. While she was taming the beast a strange thing happened to her while she stilled his breast he started to purr which changed her forever the tamer became tamed when the beast purred out the sound of her name.
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Oct 5, 2012
Oct 5, 2012 at 10:04 PM UTC
The Savage Beast
*And it suddenly occurred to me, With a twirl of my purple umbrella And whirl of raindrops racing to The ground, that we all look like Flowers from up high on rainy days. You see, the sky had told me that Perception is a silly thing, not unlike Our planted kin; the dirt our past, Rooted in memories we seek to sustain; Drinking Time like water, a Sun tamer.*
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Apr 7, 2015
Apr 7, 2015 at 8:29 PM UTC
the Sun Tamers
Dinking too much whiskey, Behaving sort of risky, Telling lying stories, Tall tales of former glories, Laughing between the tokes, At outrageously bad jokes; We thought we were outlaws, But were tamer than in-laws. Out for a wild ride, Living on the wild side And howling at the moon. The sun will be rising soon. Honking horns at passing cars Toking doobies under the stars, Letting no cuties pass us by Without whistling, my oh my. We were certain we were cool Too ****** to know we were fools. Escapees from the workaday, We ten-mile perimeter ruanways. Out for a wild ride, Living on the wild side And howling at the moon. The sun will be rising soon. Out at night, no three-piece suits, Sandals instead of fruit boots Pegged jeans and rolled up sleeves No fancy stuff with fancy weaves. Prepared for whatever comes Serenaded by engine hum We told each other that we were hot. Even though we knew we were not. Out for a wild ride, Living on the wild side And howling at the moon. The sun will be rising soon.
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Jul 30, 2015
Jul 30, 2015 at 12:34 AM UTC
CRUISING