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Lawrence Hall Aug 27
Once upon a time:

An aged rabbi talking with two men
Asked them about their holiday in Paris

The first man said: Oh, I hated Paris
There was muck and filth everywhere I went
Stray dogs and prostitutes roamed the foul streets
And the Parisians were incessantly rude

The second man said: Oh, I loved Paris
There were flowers everywhere I went
Artists and beauty, writers scribbling away
And the Parisians were so kind to me

And so:

The rabbi said to them (his voice was kind):
Each of you found the Paris you wanted to find



(Worked up [or down, or sideways…] from a story Rabbi Joel Goor, a visiting lecturer at the University of San Diego in 1975, told his students.)
YOU
man tells me
man is you
man is that argument
man is that saying
man is that bias

MAN

...is my fists,
ending you
that argument
your stupid sayings
that bias

MAN

I'm coming for you man.
The word, "Man," in it's oldest sense means, "Thought."
English Jam May 8
Drink to the woman who cared for others
Drink to the man who let her die in the gutter
Drink to those who think they have eternal youth
Drink to those who learn but don’t recognise truth
Drink to those who descend to the feet of Malkuth
Drink to those whose only wish is to hang from the roof
Drink to the liars whose only lie was that they were fine
Drink to the colours that dared to be vibrant and different from mine
Drink to the comedian whose pain is well nourished
Drink to the lover whose bruises have all flourished
Drink to the girl who doesn’t know what to believe
Drink to the guy who always feels like he has to leave
Drink to those who killed themselves to start anew
Drink to the crowd of many that thinks it’s a crowd of few
Drink to those who clean the world without a thank you
Drink to those discovering a new kind of blue
Drink to those who stand for themselves without any legs
Drink to the rich man who still stops and begs
Drink to those who worship God through death
Drink to those who don’t know they’re taking their final breath
Drink to the children who found guns way too early
Drink to the boy who was told he’s too girly
Drink to the saviour who taught peace and love
Drink to those who lived hatred to get above
Drink to the shadows who stayed carefully hidden
Drink to the people of whom the shadows were forbidden
Drink to those who dream of what came before and after
Drink to the virgins who were hurt by everyone’s laughter
Drink to the non-virgins who were put into shame
Drink to the celebrities who forgot their own name
Drink to the singer who doesn’t know what the words mean
Drink to the speaker who tells stories of things he hasn’t seen
Drink to the prisoner who builds and makes
Drink to the police officer who kills and takes
Drink to the majesties whose requests are over the top
Drink to the awkward kids who don’t know when to stop
Drink to the side of history that was never told
Drink to the heroes who eventually grew old
Drink to those who bury themselves in mountains of cocaine
Drink in the words of the liar who says it’s OK
Drink to the daydreamers lost in a drowse
Drink to the shimmering girl in a torn blouse
Drink to the society that discriminates anyone in its excess
Drink to the forgotten parade of losers, addicts and rejects
Drink to whoever sees love in the dark chapters of our books
Drink to those who are and aren’t obsessed with their looks
Drink to the new generation that abandoned its old pastiche
Drink to all who have and haven’t found their niche
Drink to the beach who had fresh scars each day
And drink to the ocean that washed the scars away

Drink, drink, drink, upon high
Raise your glass, raise your glass high

Cheers.
Ahem, copyright. And yeah, don't drink unless it's to one of these. It's a bit long-winded but i think that's all right. I hope so, anyway
i looked at the bay
it glared back streaks of sunrise
a soul at my shore
the fleeting burn tells me that
i have known her eyes before
imai Jun 8
she tells me
she’s in love,
all the time.

all with different guys,
all with different lies,
all the while,
the same shine in her eyes.

she says she’s in love,
and her love is kind—
though it is anything but.
i’ve seen the havoc it leaves behind.

she calls it love,
because she would
lose herself
if he left—
she could care less
for her kids
that would weep,
no,

their tears,
they could keep.

they were mistakes
she shouldn’t have made.
those children aren’t love
but the price she has paid.

my mother tells me she’s in love
one too many times.

i’d love to see her eyes
shine the same way
when she tells me,
she loves me.
the kind of love
a mother
provides.
a challenge by YanF
Jeff Gaines Mar 16
This girl I know
She is just ... like a book.

Her cover is so beautiful
And yet ... forever changing looks.

But this girl's beauty
Is unlike any that you've seen.

It really comes from all those pages
Those pages in between.

Each page tells a story
Some of sorrow oh so sad.

But for every one of those that you read
You'll find one of better time's she's had.

This girl I know
She rules a realm that no one ever see's.

This girl will never show it to you
And she will never show it to me.

This girl is tough
And dauntless and strong.

This girl she sings
The most beautiful songs.

This girl will never let you see her cry.

This girl will never answer you why.

This girl she doesn't need wings to fly.

Because this girl ... She is the sky.

You will find her overhead
Every day and every night.

Her sun will warm the hardest heart
And her stars they shine so bright.

If you should ever catch her and open that book
You'd better read as fast as you can.

Standing still in any one place
Is never in her plans.

But, this girl I know isn't running from something
And it's not that she's some bird on a wire.

She isn't blindly running through time, you see
This girl I know ... She has a world to set on fire.
Written in the Fall of 2012 about a friend of mine that just means the world to me. I'm too shy, or whatever, to show it to her. With my chronic case of Charlie Brown Syndrome, I am forever in fear that I will be somehow misunderstood. I hope one day, if she ever see's it, that she realizes it is about her.

PLEASE, with all due respect, do NOT tell me to give it to her. If I haven't in 5 years ... I am never going to. That's just me. I PROMISE you that I am THEE most stubborn Aries that you will EVER encounter. My stubbornness has made my family and friends, quite often, call me "The Immovable Object".
It's not the haze of the early morning
taking up your side of the bed
that tells me it's time to pretend
you weren't here again last night.

It's not the gaze of a silent songbird
peering at me through the window
that tells me it's time to act
like I don't know who you were.

It's not anything I can pinpoint
or explain, convey, or describe
that would let you know how much
I wish this wasn't so.
© 2011  J.J.W. Coyle
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