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"ungraciously" poems
You were dating that girl from heaven So angelic yet mind so brittle You took her to better places And gave her things you couldn’t give me. She’s polite, all tender hand shakes and smiles And she’s even nice to me to be on your side She’s not the stereotype of perfect Cos she’s got a dark side but it’s worth it Cos I bet you want to see her naked And I bet she looks better than me And if you do something wrong She’ll never tell you. Nearly perfect. So why You were dating that girl from heaven You were dating even when you didn’t know it Your walks were romantic and flirtatious But oh so gracious And so ungraciously you fell for her And bought her better perfume But I wasn’t in competition Now I don’t want to be involved - With a silly girl from such a tragic, lethargic world. So why I hope you and your girl from heaven dance in woods And run on hot coal together I hope your love isn’t based on words I hope she offers you things I never knew And I hope you get her name tattooed Girl from heaven, thank you.
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Mar 3, 2013
Mar 3, 2013 at 5:12 PM UTC
Girl from heaven.
Beneath the weeping Willow tree There sat a tiddly Monk And no one knew and no one cared Just why that Monk got drunk; But everyday the clock struck twelve You’d see him sitting there Chirping cheerful ditties, In a drunken slur. Then one young boy, he stopped and asked, “What troubles you my Lord?” Ungraciously the monk replied Or should I say, he roared! “I have to taste the Holy wine, It is my job you see. But I cannot recommend it Till I’ve tasted two or three, And sometimes if the wine is corked It can be five or six So you see it’s not my fault That I am in this fix.” The boy said, “It’s not good my Lord That a Holy man should be Inebriated to the hilt And sat beneath a tree.” After giving one loud burp The Monk he sat and cried, “I’ll try to give it up my son But many times I’ve tried.” “The boy said Lord it’s come to me This sudden blinding flash My Dad would volunteer I know But you’d have to pay him cash.” “Your Dad would do this for me son, Are you sure he’d volunteer?” “It’s wine I know, but I think so Although he’d prefer beer.” “Is he a man of God? Is he climbing Jacob’s Ladder?” The boy said, “I don’t know But he loves the ‘Bull and Bladder’.” “Bring him to me soon my son You’re the answer to my prayers I thought I was forsaken But now that someone cares, I’ll walk the straight and narrow And really sort my life. Now what other sins have I? Oh yes! I shouldn’t have a wife. Do you think he’ll take her too? This Father of yours son.” “Well yes, he’s only human, When all is said and done. But that will cost, I’m sure you’ve guessed, These things they don’t come cheap. My Dad is sensible I know And a robbing little creep.” “That’s it then son. Go forth.” He cried. “Bring your Father here. It will be worth it this I know Even if it costs me dear.” The boy pushed forth his hand He expected a large tip But the Monk pulled out a bottle And he offered him a sip. “I’m too young to drink my Lord, You should be ashamed. Although I know it is the wine So you cannot be blamed. But if you don’t cough up right now And offer cash to me You can sit there drunken all your life, Beneath the Willow tree.”
0
Dec 4, 2009
Dec 4, 2009 at 9:14 AM UTC
Inebriated Monk
Beneath the weeping Willow tree There sat a tiddly Monk And no one knew and no one cared Just why that Monk got drunk; But everyday the clock struck twelve You’d see him sitting there Chirping cheerful ditties, In a drunken slur. Then one young boy, he stopped and asked, “What troubles you my Lord?” Ungraciously the monk replied Or should I say, he roared! “I have to taste the Holy wine, It is my job you see. But I cannot recommend it Till I’ve tasted two or three, And sometimes if the wine is corked It can be five or six So you see it’s not my fault That I am in this fix.” The boy said, “It’s not good my Lord That a Holy man should be Inebriated to the hilt And sat beneath a tree.” After giving one loud burp The Monk he sat and cried, “I’ll try to give it up my son But many times I’ve tried.” “The boy said Lord it’s come to me This sudden blinding flash My Dad would volunteer I know But you’d have to pay him cash.” “Your Dad would do this for me son, Are you sure he’d volunteer?” “It’s wine I know, but I think so Although he’d prefer beer.” “Is he a man of God? Is he climbing Jacob’s Ladder?” The boy said, “I don’t know But he loves the ‘Bull and Bladder’.” “Bring him to me soon my son You’re the answer to my prayers I thought I was forsaken But now that someone cares, I’ll walk the straight and narrow And really sort my life. Now what other sins have I? Oh yes! I shouldn’t have a wife. Do you think he’ll take her too? This Father of yours son.” “Well yes, he’s only human, When all is said and done. But that will cost, I’m sure you’ve guessed, These things they don’t come cheap. My Dad is sensible I know And a robbing little creep.” “That’s it then son. Go forth.” He cried. “Bring your Father here. It will be worth it this I know Even if it costs me dear.” The boy pushed forth his hand He expected a large tip But the Monk pulled out a bottle And he offered him a sip. “I’m too young to drink my Lord, You should be ashamed. Although I know it is the wine So you cannot be blamed. But if you don’t cough up right now And offer cash to me You can sit there drunken all your life, Beneath the Willow tree.”
Continue reading...
72
Toes are bronzed Once they danced Twirling tips Winked romance At one time Dipped in gold Prolonged use Colors old Now they feel Stuck like stone Barren seeds Pebbles thrown So they fell Black swan curse Ungraciously For better, worst The statue broke Unwanted face Could not stand tall Without a base
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Jun 1, 2012
Jun 1, 2012 at 8:38 PM UTC
Freebase in Freefall
From the first dawn of time to the last fine dime from my first bout with pain till the day I go insane thought you'd stand by me definition of loyalty what I thought to be true not the same for me as you the passing days will do passing plays to make loot it was never just for me selflessly to idiocy all for my...family now lay waste in misery how did it come to this when we started with ignorant bliss how did I miss all the signs or were you just always outta line always did you **** with me ****** me blind to your history to find out inevitably that were not meant for me how ungraciously you left me to bruise and bleed In my time of misery when I was at my greatest need this is how you slay me indignant cold shoulder be how you treat me currently negativity is your recipe for disaster how dastardly you blame me constantly the lies you spread about me disbelieve the sanctity that blind the tendency that binds our calamity trigger me please leave me painlessly to rest in peace I feel like living needs to cease see there's nothing left of me wouldn't you agree?
0
Feb 6, 2016
Feb 6, 2016 at 11:05 PM UTC
how ungraciously
i want to write clever and bright but everything comes out mundane and boring and i know my daily grind may well be a window into the abstraction of  joy for others but i feel i am writing blind, groping for words in the hopes that they will be courteous and kind enough to show their beauty to my walled in mind. it is in this reality that the fact most ungraciously to be given prominence pertains to the phrenic frictive dissadence.. i have been swimming laps  in a pool of academic jargonese and as i breastroke and butterfly through grant after grant appeal, the reality becomes more and more surreal as  beggars and funds unreel and dance and swerve and dive and wheel like birds in enraptured murmuration causing unceasing surseration, a whispering mindless meditation of factsand figures ad fintum beating, beating like a broken drum bending, bruising mind and soul as  I swim on down through the rabbit hole but soon this madfly mendicant season will be done. and then my muse may well return..... and the healing, calming  words will come if not.. well then, I am undone
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Nov 21, 2016
Nov 21, 2016 at 6:46 AM UTC
blind freddy speaks....
Don’t say my name. Your lips don’t deserve the courtesy to Sit so closely with a part of me, Because it’s always been too late. I would have told you that loving you is like Loving a piece of the sky – The same piece I loved yesterday is Nearly impossible to find today. I’m being interrupted again, By the flash of your hands, Too quick. Of your face, Breaking even as it smiles, And I cannot help myself but to Fall apart as well. Only after you leave Am I able to Sew together the flesh that you so ungraciously Tore open, once again.
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Oct 27, 2011
Oct 27, 2011 at 3:27 PM UTC
This Poem is not a Love Poem
Heart of glass and mind of stone An internal war within my own But I fall into you, kisses tender And to my heart I ungraciously surrender From the moment I read what your sad eyes described I knew that, with you... my soul identified The connection between us chokes up the air And I tried my best to avoid temptations glare But I gave into you, and I hold no regret And this craving for you is starting to set As I traced down your side with deepen desire You pulled me in close, you’re grip getting tighter. Now the hands on the clock are moving to fast Albeit my wishes to make it last And we continue our path in different directions But I’ll remember that night in all its perfection. Now my lips long to touch yours once more And my skin lusts for you much worse than before. I don’t know if we’re fated...but see I wish if we’re not, we pretended to be.
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Jan 29, 2019
Jan 29, 2019 at 11:16 AM UTC
Heart of Glass