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"tatra" poems
The summer breezed in Kraków field, The fresh air that lingers in my hair Watching the nuthatches safely arrived in their bield, While we are holding our hands sitting on the chair. At night, we were stargazing You said, "what a starry night", Like van Gogh's painting is so amazing That I light up your world without your sight. Then, You smiled back at me like how Mona Lisa smiled, It gives me an impression And that night my world become wild I knew that You are my dedication and inspiration. I need a love that grows That your sweet and tenderness in my veins flows. Last time, I made pączki for your birthday, You're so vivacious Oh dear, a week is not enough to see you everyday Your love is contagious We went to the beach for a night, That day, You and I collide You will be forever my knight Please stay by my side. Fifth of November, you dressed up like van Gogh, I stared at you like how Frida kahlo fierce, Honey, I want you to stay by my side everywhere I go. I love for a thousand years, I can't stop thinking 'bout your face, You can never be replaced. Our relationship has different strokes, As I painted our love story in Tatra mountain, Here, under the oaks, Dear, No one could ever erase you in my memory nor stain, Were at the terraces, spending my christmas with you, The smell of potato pancakes are so nostalgic, And also the spices that is in the barbecue, Spending holiday with you is so romantic, Before the year ends, We waited to power up the fireworks, moja miłość, we are more than just friends, And that's how our love works. How lovely and amazing, Now, I'm just reminiscing.
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Jan 7, 2021
Jan 7, 2021 at 2:25 AM UTC
Poland
The summer breezed in Kraków field, The fresh air that lingers in my hair Watching the nuthatches safely arrived in their bield, While we are holding our hands sitting on the chair. At night, we were stargazing You said, "what a starry night", Like van Gogh's painting is so amazing That I light up your world without your sight. Then, You smiled back at me like how Mona Lisa smiled, It gives me an impression And that night my world become wild I knew that You are my dedication and inspiration. I need a love that grows That your sweet and tenderness in my veins flows. Last time, I made pączki for your birthday, You're so vivacious Oh dear, a week is not enough to see you everyday Your love is contagious We went to the beach for a night, That day, You and I collide You will be forever my knight Please stay by my side. Fifth of November, you dressed up like van Gogh, I stared at you like how Frida kahlo fierce, Honey, I want you to stay by my side everywhere I go. I love for a thousand years, I can't stop thinking 'bout your face, You can never be replaced. Our relationship has different strokes, As I painted our love story in Tatra mountain, Here, under the oaks, Dear, No one could ever erase you in my memory nor stain, Were at the terraces, spending my christmas with you, The smell of potato pancakes are so nostalgic, And also the spices that is in the barbecue, Spending holiday with you is so romantic, Before the year ends, We waited to power up the fireworks, moja miłość, we are more than just friends, And that's how our love works. How lovely and amazing, Now, I'm just reminiscing.
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42
i don't know why,             in a litre, that's 250ml gone, on the basis that, working from 40%, i'm figuring, 40% - x = 37.5%, add the half and then add the 2... what do you get? 40%.                anyway...                  these "hard" spirits are perfect for mixers...                      you get a perfect mix of, say,           *dark *** & pepsi, to conjure up a sharpshooter known as blackbeard; and that really is a name for the most trivial cocktail.     and when i mean "hard", i do mean "hard". ever drink habsburg absinthe?         that's nearing the 100% mark...             or what one might call:    the 10,000 indicator for: what wasn't ran, but was drunk; zeno's paradoxical centimetre or inches or miles or kilometres come later, or at least last...    but this is fascinating... % = double negation given that kant said, 0 = negation... it's like a denial divided by denial...            i know the symbol suggests more omicron representation than a zee-ρ;     never mind... it's the perfect fraction... like a golden ratio, % = the perfect fraction. the thing is though...           i'm drinking this 37.5% dark *** and thinking... if this **** was at 40%...           i'd be worrying about not mixing it properly...             and this is a "hard" spirit after all... it's not exactly habsburg absinthe,         or a plum extract that's know by the name of śliwowica, common in the tatra mountains... which, like habsburg absinthe, is nearing            the ten thousand mark; but some strange reason 37.5% is the perfect partner for a mixer... say... *** & pepsi... whiskey & pepsi... ***** & pepsi...         at 40% you're thinking... posh whiskey, drank lukewarm... like a brandy / cognac. 37.5% is a ******* mystery to me...        i actually can perfect the sharpshooter concept with that balance... mingling 40% with a mixer is... is... just ****** hard...           sharpshooter? excess of spirit and a little bit of a mixer...      a bit like... a shandy... beer with a head of lemonade?                                 no? don't know it? 37.5%, and a litre of it?! and enough pepsi?   i call that a friday night... as a party soloist; oh i did to the laundry wasted today,       almost anything done drunk is fun as **** you get all autistic, making patterns out of the clothes and where they should hang on the washing-line...        red sock, blue sock... no... red sock red sock... here!        blue sock... tartan pattern blue sock... no...         ah! blue sock blue sock.... dangle here! well... you know... people have their alternative hobbies.
0
May 5, 2017
May 5, 2017 at 6:13 PM UTC
37.5% mystery / habsburg absinthe
i don't know why,             in a litre, that's 250ml gone, on the basis that, working from 40%, i'm figuring, 40% - x = 37.5%, add the half and then add the 2... what do you get? 40%.                anyway...                  these "hard" spirits are perfect for mixers...                      you get a perfect mix of, say,           *dark *** & pepsi, to conjure up a sharpshooter known as blackbeard; and that really is a name for the most trivial cocktail.     and when i mean "hard", i do mean "hard". ever drink habsburg absinthe?         that's nearing the 100% mark...             or what one might call:    the 10,000 indicator for: what wasn't ran, but was drunk; zeno's paradoxical centimetre or inches or miles or kilometres come later, or at least last...    but this is fascinating... % = double negation given that kant said, 0 = negation... it's like a denial divided by denial...            i know the symbol suggests more omicron representation than a zee-ρ;     never mind... it's the perfect fraction... like a golden ratio, % = the perfect fraction. the thing is though...           i'm drinking this 37.5% dark *** and thinking... if this **** was at 40%...           i'd be worrying about not mixing it properly...             and this is a "hard" spirit after all... it's not exactly habsburg absinthe,         or a plum extract that's know by the name of śliwowica, common in the tatra mountains... which, like habsburg absinthe, is nearing            the ten thousand mark; but some strange reason 37.5% is the perfect partner for a mixer... say... *** & pepsi... whiskey & pepsi... ***** & pepsi...         at 40% you're thinking... posh whiskey, drank lukewarm... like a brandy / cognac. 37.5% is a ******* mystery to me...        i actually can perfect the sharpshooter concept with that balance... mingling 40% with a mixer is... is... just ****** hard...           sharpshooter? excess of spirit and a little bit of a mixer...      a bit like... a shandy... beer with a head of lemonade?                                 no? don't know it? 37.5%, and a litre of it?! and enough pepsi?   i call that a friday night... as a party soloist; oh i did to the laundry wasted today,       almost anything done drunk is fun as **** you get all autistic, making patterns out of the clothes and where they should hang on the washing-line...        red sock, blue sock... no... red sock red sock... here!        blue sock... tartan pattern blue sock... no...         ah! blue sock blue sock.... dangle here! well... you know... people have their alternative hobbies.
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