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"variety" poems
I want to sleep forever and reside in my dreams            To frolic through a collage of different spectacles and scenes                 An escape from the insufferable, cruel world at large I want to sleep forever I want to sleep forever so I can live in my dreams            The ruler of the lands, the queen of all kings                With nothing to fear but the darkside of the conscience I want to sleep forever I want to sleep forever and fight my inner demons         Provide peace of mind for all bothered and exhausted               Float on utter bliss; those monsters, I'll never miss I want to sleep forever I want to sleep forever and never show sadness again         Bright, long-lasting smiles on weekly sullen days              Created and maintained in a variety of ways I want to sleep forever I want to sleep forever to erase everything        I want to sleep forever and feel warmth again            To bathe myself in content that won't ever end Let me sleep forever
0
Oct 21, 2011
Oct 21, 2011 at 3:00 AM UTC
Lucid
On a journey down to nowhere I have realized many things. Dwelling on the subject; friendship And what once a stranger said to me “You’re not a no-man Neither am I” He continued with a sigh. The stranger gazed high above the tree tops We heard the sirens of the cops As little raindrops gently landed on our faces. There were no traces of violence just serenity. “You can feel and so can I We could perish in a blink of an eye. We can withstand the strongest storm Yet we are torn from a cunning plan. We are strong when we’re united yet How weak we are alone. Then why do we insist to consist in groups Exclusion is not the solution to our society The variety of us is overwhelming Compelling us to accept So why do we resist?” He preached Continued to persist for his message was vital. Accept and you will be accepted, you will be loved, free. On a journey down to nowhere I have realized… Unity is vital.
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Jan 18, 2014
Jan 18, 2014 at 7:55 PM UTC
Stranger
In a world of over 7billion people you'd be amazed by the amount of variety but sadly most people are similar deep down we have the same desires hopes, dreams most of us spend the weekends the same way the majority of us like films so on a large scale we are unique but on a smaller scale we are the same In a world of over 7billion people I would have thought more people would hold my attention, that they would surprise me so when I do meet someone that catches me off guard someone that is truly unique, someone that surprises me I do my best to keep them in my life I trust them completely and I will always be their for them. Not many people but all my best friends started out as someone that caught my attention and surprised me. People that surprise me, I try to keep in my life I'm a friend to everyone but my best friends surprise me.
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Jul 6, 2014
Jul 6, 2014 at 1:47 PM UTC
Surprising
I reserved a table for the two of us at the only restaurant in the world that not only offers atmosphere and setting but tone and syntax as well. First some articles for appetizers. They're easiest on my pocket you know. An an, a the, and an a. Let's not even start on the punctuation, I'm treating you to a rather large meal. As large as the entire English language, now back to the articles. Sure these taste like lint but they still taste. Petit fours but there you are. Try to be disinterested or you'll put me off my food. Nouns now. My, what a variety. Bit meaty, eh? These have staying power. They taste like a bit of everywhere, and everyone, and everything. What's that? Surely they're not that bland. Maybe you need some seasoning. "Adjective" comes from the French for "to the word." So exotic aren't they? These really are fantastic. Exquisite, unique, zesty to say the least. You must admit, they make the meal worth it. I hope you're not allergic, I could have sworn I just had something "nutty." Oh, it had nuts "in it"? There must be some prepositions mixed in here. (I'm glad we're getting through these now, I've never been a big fan of them. When I was a kid, I would always push my prepositions to the end of my sentences. You just can't do that in a joint like this, it seems.) Ah finally. The verbs are served. Well-prepared it would seem. Yes, anything you can do to a verb they've done to these. Infinitives (too good to realistically be believed!), gerunds, and participles (No, not particles. But we did have some of those at the Japanese restaurant.) Fairly lean too, as I can't see any auxiliary fat. For some reason those adverbs (just to your left, under that thesaurus) really go well with this. Plus those adjectives from earlier, rather pleasantly. Now a brief selection of conjunctions, but don't ruin yourself. They're not a meal of themselves, just a link to... Oh! Look at those interjections. So delicate, so (Wow!) incisive. I told you to keep your appetite. Well, just try a little of this. Goodness, me! And then everyone proceeds to die from a split infinitive.
0
Mar 21, 2010
Mar 21, 2010 at 7:44 PM UTC
I Eat my Words.
I reserved a table for the two of us at the only restaurant in the world that not only offers atmosphere and setting but tone and syntax as well. First some articles for appetizers. They're easiest on my pocket you know. An an, a the, and an a. Let's not even start on the punctuation, I'm treating you to a rather large meal. As large as the entire English language, now back to the articles. Sure these taste like lint but they still taste. Petit fours but there you are. Try to be disinterested or you'll put me off my food. Nouns now. My, what a variety. Bit meaty, eh? These have staying power. They taste like a bit of everywhere, and everyone, and everything. What's that? Surely they're not that bland. Maybe you need some seasoning. "Adjective" comes from the French for "to the word." So exotic aren't they? These really are fantastic. Exquisite, unique, zesty to say the least. You must admit, they make the meal worth it. I hope you're not allergic, I could have sworn I just had something "nutty." Oh, it had nuts "in it"? There must be some prepositions mixed in here. (I'm glad we're getting through these now, I've never been a big fan of them. When I was a kid, I would always push my prepositions to the end of my sentences. You just can't do that in a joint like this, it seems.) Ah finally. The verbs are served. Well-prepared it would seem. Yes, anything you can do to a verb they've done to these. Infinitives (too good to realistically be believed!), gerunds, and participles (No, not particles. But we did have some of those at the Japanese restaurant.) Fairly lean too, as I can't see any auxiliary fat. For some reason those adverbs (just to your left, under that thesaurus) really go well with this. Plus those adjectives from earlier, rather pleasantly. Now a brief selection of conjunctions, but don't ruin yourself. They're not a meal of themselves, just a link to... Oh! Look at those interjections. So delicate, so (Wow!) incisive. I told you to keep your appetite. Well, just try a little of this. Goodness, me! And then everyone proceeds to die from a split infinitive.
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63
What is appropriate to say about the changes in your life. At 23 I was confused about a girl, under the sculpted pines. Quietly, my friends and I contemplate death. A subject, until recently, unknown to us in such a variety of forms. Nuclear flash to exploding blood vessel in the brain, control eludes us. Heirs to a society adept with numbers, we run in the park and eat whole grains, increasing survival odds. The city and the mountain are two hard anvils against which our hot lives are shaped. Love is the fire, and the need for love. To be shaped by the lover's warm hands, like clay. Alive, almost sure of it.
0
Aug 9, 2015
Aug 9, 2015 at 9:37 AM UTC
Alive
Hello friends & wishing you a very auspicious & prosperous DIWALI.. ..............HAPPY DIWALI............... On this auspicious festival of Diwali i wish & pray that, may everyone Life filled with a Sparking colors of the happiness & Light of Prosperity. May this world & people of this country live with a calmness & Fortune of love. Diwali is one of my favorite festival & it is also the festival of light were houses are decorated with candles & it is one of the most beautiful festivals in Indian culture, coincides with Hindu New Year and is seen as a metaphor for self-improvement and as representing new beginnings. It involves a strong belief in giving to people in need, and is also traditionally a time for new clothes to be worn & Indian sweets is a variety of colours and flavours are eaten during the celebrations....May this writing platform of Lettrs continues as the same of making originality of marking a talent into a magic light... so I am inviting everyone to be a part of Indian festivals and culture... everyone are most welcomed to India..India is Country of Carnival with different Tradition, different culture , with beauty of joy, beauty of passion, beauty of love , beauty of art & beauty of everything that you have never experienced before... ....Thank-you..
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Nov 11, 2015
Nov 11, 2015 at 7:14 AM UTC
Happy Diwali...
the other day I occupied a chair at a sidewalk café watching the vanity fair of the quotidian float by in quickly changing apparitions an endless flow of different ages, nations, fashions, skin colors, miens, ****** expressions, postures & gaits kept passing through  my field of vision it made me wonder why some people get so furious when they  just hear about     not even meet     the ‘others’ different from themselves that they start dropping  bombs and shooting rockets I think they rather should be curious and eager to discover how the immense variety of humankind can help expand a locally grown mind and recognize that we are all of the same kind
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Jun 5, 2016
Jun 5, 2016 at 5:20 PM UTC
humankind
Someone is singing a song, it's somewhere written. The ocean breaks in billowy dances, the seas open up Get it off the chests, put a notion through onto the cloud that won’t just fall, won’t just stop and drop: it will float to the measured moves, only then will it roll in, pop into the million blooms, wreathed rosy lips, set out bowls of colours before the one is pouring in! A song like King David sang and everyone heard. It’s the sweet song sang in every mother tongue; a perfumed speech is heard sweeter than the nectar, wreaths round each patch of earth as part of a tongue. In all different variations, directions it’s being sung! Mathematically composed that rhythmically spans fashion in both, or you choose science or arts. It’s a lyric sung with finest curvy swaying dance. Feel the thrills deep down through the atomic level. still the variety motions in various directions turn on,   and nowhere near that looks, drawing a pause!
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Mar 20, 2017
Mar 20, 2017 at 11:15 PM UTC
Songs of the Seas
My breath is lost as I gaze upon the magnitude of the mountains that surround me. I marvel at how beautifully the water reflects the sky, pure white clouds stretched across blankets of soft pinks and blues as the sun sets behind the trees. I see the steadiness of Your hand in the horizon. I see Your love of variety in shells scattered along the shoreline. I see Your flawless detail in the veins of a maple leaf. I see Your creative spark in fireflies glowing subtly against the darkness of an airy August night. I hear You in the winter wind, I feel You in the summer heat. My soul is flooded with joy at the sight of Your creation. I cannot help but lift my hands and praise You.
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Jul 31, 2013
Jul 31, 2013 at 2:47 PM UTC
God is my favorite artist, salvation is my favorite song
Let me tell you about something I saw the other day, when I was out walking through a field of hay. The night was quite pretty, the air crisp and clear, when I suddenly encountered a cat who was drinking a beer! I walked a little farther and encountered some mice, sitting around a card table, all playing dice. The mice looked quite serious, they all dressed like thugs, I was dumbfounded, and simply stared down from above. Then I saw something that completely blew my mind, it was a variety of animals, dancing in a conga line. For hours and hours and hours they danced, more animals joined in, even deer came to prance. This party was larger than any I’d seen, a couple of badgers were even smoking something green. “Innocent” deer were snorting lines off of snakes, and a couple drunk farm dogs were fighting with rakes. A cat and a mouse were sitting in a barn, entirely too drunk, they took turn telling yarns. From across the field, you could hear an owl retch, while a gaggle of geese slurred “Benny and the Jets.” Sheep laughed, “Bahaha!” while dancing on tables, the horses were getting it on in the stables. This party was crazier than any I’d attended, a pig even ended up losing an appendage. As the sun came up, things started winding down, all the cows went home, and the "Keg King" took off his crown. I took this as my cue, it was time to depart, so a couple mice and I hitched a ride on a farmer’s cart. "Sayonara!" I yelled, "It's been lots of fun! Everybody get home safe, try not to hurt anyone!" But enough about me, let's talk about you. That was my weekend, what did you do?
0
Nov 2, 2012
Nov 2, 2012 at 11:55 PM UTC
Party Animals
Let me tell you about something I saw the other day, when I was out walking through a field of hay. The night was quite pretty, the air crisp and clear, when I suddenly encountered a cat who was drinking a beer! I walked a little farther and encountered some mice, sitting around a card table, all playing dice. The mice looked quite serious, they all dressed like thugs, I was dumbfounded, and simply stared down from above. Then I saw something that completely blew my mind, it was a variety of animals, dancing in a conga line. For hours and hours and hours they danced, more animals joined in, even deer came to prance. This party was larger than any I’d seen, a couple of badgers were even smoking something green. “Innocent” deer were snorting lines off of snakes, and a couple drunk farm dogs were fighting with rakes. A cat and a mouse were sitting in a barn, entirely too drunk, they took turn telling yarns. From across the field, you could hear an owl retch, while a gaggle of geese slurred “Benny and the Jets.” Sheep laughed, “Bahaha!” while dancing on tables, the horses were getting it on in the stables. This party was crazier than any I’d attended, a pig even ended up losing an appendage. As the sun came up, things started winding down, all the cows went home, and the "Keg King" took off his crown. I took this as my cue, it was time to depart, so a couple mice and I hitched a ride on a farmer’s cart. "Sayonara!" I yelled, "It's been lots of fun! Everybody get home safe, try not to hurt anyone!" But enough about me, let's talk about you. That was my weekend, what did you do?
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32
My arms wrapped around you, yours around me. We stand together in our now natural hug. Although my height is sometimes a challenge You feel warm; your back is straight and toned. How does our hug feel from your side? Does my back feel firm or yielding? What is the sensation under your fingers? Of the fabric next to my skin, my undergarments? Our hug is just one Of a striking variety we receive in a lifetime From friends, lovers, family, near-strangers An act seemingly simple but in truth, complex The first hug you remember from childhood: your Mum Warm and safe, and maybe a little squeezed But her blouse is soft, and her arms reach around you nearly twice. You are so small, and she is so big. Your teen-age years, acquaintances: single arm hug Air kisses, a quick pat, a gentle rub It’s social hugging to keep up appearances Feeling awkward, you’d rather shake hands Your first true love – long, grasping, gasping embraces That leave invisible marks on your clothing and skin underneath A desire for another, the promise of more Maybe in future, the touch of your fingertips on clothing-free skin. Again a hug from your Mum, 40 years after her first The alignment is different; somehow she has shrunk Still warm and safe, yet with a different body tone A kiss on her cheek is soft to your lips – a hug to last the ages.
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Sep 21, 2014
Sep 21, 2014 at 11:07 AM UTC
Hug
No Sugar, please don't leave ! I must, my time is up But I love you, I can't live without you ... There lies the problem ... But there's a piece of you in every part of my life ! Are you deaf? I don't care, you give me variety more than I can dream ! Then, you are stupid, you must be ... I breathe the rush you give me, exhilarated I want more ... Then, you are addicted ... I can't live without you ! Don't blame me, I am but a plant ... Will you at least visit? That's up to you, it was never in my plan to **** you What are you talking about sugar? Exactly my point, see you later !
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Jun 16, 2014
Jun 16, 2014 at 2:08 AM UTC
No Sugar ...
~ ⚘ ⚪ ⚘ ~ But I am relieved. Not being confined in bright velvets of the West, or shimmering silks of the East. Each hand-stitched with animals and flowers, crystals and furs, with gold and silver to parade around in Court. ~ ⚘ ⚪ ⚘ ~ I find far more splendour in a simple iris-purple kimono-robe, lightweight, silk-satin and printed with lilies with a pink silk trim. It strokes my ankles, and the sleeves, they billow; the sash firmly fastened around my waist. ~ ⚘ ⚪ ⚘ ~ My handmaid, Ilazi, presents a gilded bowl with the purest form of fruits - the ones that were rain-washed. I have a variety to choose from - strawberries, blueberries, peaches, green, red and black grapes which I pick and nibble on. Hmm, a succulent balance of sweetness and **** ~ ⚘ ⚪ ⚘ ~ And then my senior handmaid, Anihana, arrives with a tray in hand, clearly made from stainless steel with rose-gold accents. 'Sweet Queen,' says she. At the wave of my hand, the music stops. 'Forgive me for keeping you waiting. I know how particular you are with your pearls so I narrowed them to your favourite three choices.' ~ ⚘ ⚪ ⚘ ~ 'Thank you,' I say and as I lean up, she presents three cream-hued scrolls. 'Lists,' says she, 'of all the ship's inventory. Would you like to inspect them, my lady?' 'I will after some tea, Ainhana, thank you.' ~ ⚘ ⚪ ⚘ ~ Anihana nods and moves by my side as my eyes fall on the tray's contents. A small silver five-minute sand-timer, a glass teapot with bamboo handle, an infuser and steel lid half filled with hot water; steam dancing out of the spout. Then, a lovely glass teacup, one of the most beautiful I've seen yet. ~ ⚘ ⚪ ⚘ ~
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Aug 4, 2018
Aug 4, 2018 at 7:48 AM UTC
~ ⚘⚪ Jasmine Pearls III ⚪⚘ ~
~ ⚘ ⚪ ⚘ ~ But I am relieved. Not being confined in bright velvets of the West, or shimmering silks of the East. Each hand-stitched with animals and flowers, crystals and furs, with gold and silver to parade around in Court. ~ ⚘ ⚪ ⚘ ~ I find far more splendour in a simple iris-purple kimono-robe, lightweight, silk-satin and printed with lilies with a pink silk trim. It strokes my ankles, and the sleeves, they billow; the sash firmly fastened around my waist. ~ ⚘ ⚪ ⚘ ~ My handmaid, Ilazi, presents a gilded bowl with the purest form of fruits - the ones that were rain-washed. I have a variety to choose from - strawberries, blueberries, peaches, green, red and black grapes which I pick and nibble on. Hmm, a succulent balance of sweetness and **** ~ ⚘ ⚪ ⚘ ~ And then my senior handmaid, Anihana, arrives with a tray in hand, clearly made from stainless steel with rose-gold accents. 'Sweet Queen,' says she. At the wave of my hand, the music stops. 'Forgive me for keeping you waiting. I know how particular you are with your pearls so I narrowed them to your favourite three choices.' ~ ⚘ ⚪ ⚘ ~ 'Thank you,' I say and as I lean up, she presents three cream-hued scrolls. 'Lists,' says she, 'of all the ship's inventory. Would you like to inspect them, my lady?' 'I will after some tea, Ainhana, thank you.' ~ ⚘ ⚪ ⚘ ~ Anihana nods and moves by my side as my eyes fall on the tray's contents. A small silver five-minute sand-timer, a glass teapot with bamboo handle, an infuser and steel lid half filled with hot water; steam dancing out of the spout. Then, a lovely glass teacup, one of the most beautiful I've seen yet. ~ ⚘ ⚪ ⚘ ~
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52
The rides full of adrenaline The crowd full of laughter The air full of a variety of smells A carnival A place of fun and enrichment The carny grounds Someone ends up hurt Dies on sight A carnival Now a place that is closed An empty place Full of empty rides Silent laughter A carnival Only a place of dares and bad choices More death arises More lost souls wandering The carny grounds beginning to fill again A carnival No longer a place of fun and enjoyment Screams fill the air in the night Rides never stop running A haunting of what was once a beautiful place A haunted carnival A place where the spirits roam
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Feb 16, 2016
Feb 16, 2016 at 3:26 AM UTC
A haunted carnival
a black bat hangs upside down digesting a fly his face almost human a flying Frankenstein he excretes puddles of guano like miniature buttered popcorn a dark and wavy goulash gods gift to beetles and worms dizzied overheated men look on to an uproarious variety hour of song and a high heeled kicks inspiring a tempest of throbbing whisky drenched folded ***** and cash trouser trout fish,     undulant sexed up tape worms for love pulse the night egging on bunny **** pom poms devout finger puppets of Eros for shimmering ****** lipstick twilled vibratos sequined tassel spinning areolas and lavish come **** me dance girls bring down the house in flames making hearts apostate clamoring and melt men like steaming everglades the bat hangs from the chandelier licks his black lips and looks on to panorama of hieroglyphics hearing music a thunderous nonsense   witnessing visions of flies, tasty white winged moths and the thrill of screams while biting the head off of another bat in a claret stained red velvet cabaret
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Aug 31, 2017
Aug 31, 2017 at 5:09 PM UTC
BURLESQUE MEETS A BAT
We're ladies who lunch, we have a good time We appreciate art, we sip fine wine Watching our weight so no more than a nibble But believe you me - we're fond of a giggle :) We're ladies who lunch, we thrive on variety We run the local history society We move some chairs around in the hall And invite a nice man to talk to us all We're ladies who lunch, we support one another Devouring books from cover to cover We always discuss the topics we've read Our husbands are hard at work or dead We're ladies who lunch, we're busy but free No one does luncheon better than we Society's backbone, we stick together And fully intend to go on for ever
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Jul 28, 2013
Jul 28, 2013 at 12:57 PM UTC
Ladies who lunch
Stories and poems Love and shared coffees Bus rides and jokes I saw the sun glimmering The corners crept in The room became smaller Breathing got harder and voices became more My body became a canvas of my own doing The blood became more and the smile slipped away in the dark I became lost in a world of Bipolar Depression With a new mixture of pills of various variety of color The line between reality and fantasy became blury Until a line was no more I found comfort in creating art over my arms hidden by clothes My days became a mixture of pills and emotional outbursts It was like falling asleep, slowly at first and then all together I was destroyed I was distorted I was redefined by darkness of late night cries I was no more I became a silent void I became nothing I became defined by my illness I became my worst fear I am a beautiful void I am I am I am lost and captured in a glass jar labeled December Bipolar I am no more
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Jun 20, 2016
Jun 20, 2016 at 7:03 AM UTC
December Bipolar
a twig snaps beneath my shoe, the sudden sound shattering the calm atmosphere. sunlight dapples over my skin, rippling across my clothes, pooling in my cupped hands as if i were holding it. delicate leaves rustle overhead, my attention to the emerald glow above only broken by the hum of a bumblebee buzzing its way to yet another flower. trees, seemingly protective, surround me, their trunks a shelter for such a variety of creatures. sweet birdsong echoes above. a woodpecker taps a home somewhere to my left. a chipmunk skitters across my path and into the still ferns, causing them to shudder. the scent of soil, of leaves, of nature, floods me. i wonder about the world, about the mountains and about the sea. about my friends, my family, about strangers with lives just as complex and unknowing as my own. i ponder myself, my life, where will i go? what will i do? will it all be worth it? -l.s.
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Oct 13, 2018
Oct 13, 2018 at 11:43 AM UTC
the forest
The beloved country Africana can boast of is Ghana. The manana of Africana black star is Ghana A nation rich in culture and natural pasture. Its nature reflects the creatures’ caricature We are black reflecting our true beauty. And we are packed with captivating ability. The typicality of our nationality brings unity. Who knows whether our safety lies in our variety? This unity amidst our diversity is our reportage. About twenty-four million are surviving in our age. Over sixty ethnic groups and fifty-two major languages. There are hundreds of dialects which are to our advantages. In W/A, Ghana records the highest percentage of Christianity… Yet the modernity of our sanity portrays minds of malignity. But the fraternity of our humanity builds our community. The variety of our morality and privity builds our society Who said Ghana cannot be capaciously superfluous? We have the very illustrious and exuberant resources. The elites and the voracity are harnessing the recourses. The destitute remains poor and the gentry linger the forces Our democratic government is an African paradigm. Our peaceful political regime is of no pantomime. Who of course would help us measure corruption? The whole nation would have tensed up to eruption. If not the gargantuan wayomelogy of the wayometer. Who knows whether the next tool would be attameter? Who wouldn’t love to be a proud Ghanaian to enjoy our hilarious fila and jargons tongue can employ
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Mar 22, 2012
Mar 22, 2012 at 7:52 PM UTC
GHANA IS CAPACIOUSLY SUPERFLUOUS
Close your eyes honey. Take my friendly hand Let me carry your worries Close your mind ' s eye I know a place you' d like. I know of this island It has a comfy house on the sea shore ' s sand . The house encircled with a plush lawn , And on this island the sun never frowns . See her laying on the sea, but she will be up by dawn . Can you hear the sweet song from the brushes ? Can you see how the water , to the shore , rushes ? Look in the pretty clear sky See the variety of beautiful birds flying by. Please honey , let me make your heart smile . In this sweet get away let me bear your pain and kiss your worries away .
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Sep 28, 2014
Sep 28, 2014 at 6:18 AM UTC
Sweet Getaway
Saying my "goodnight"s to God my prayer inadvertently strays As my mind starts to wander in a million different ways. I reflect on where we started thousands of years in the past, When our first parents made a poor choice with consequences that would a long time last. Imagine: Not having to pray to God thru Christ his son But rather speaking to him as a friend one-on-one. As you walk in your garden with no property bounds You delight in the peace with the animals & the variety of sounds. But alas that deadly bite they took And the hope of everlasting life forsook. Their once perfect bodies now began to decay And onto their offspring this curse did relay. So the wheels in my head now spin To my inheritance of sin And my determination to overcome The inherent sin to which most succumb. Though the enemies try to fight To bring me down with all their might I know there is a stronger power A refuge & strong tower Into which I'm able to run When my own strength is done Because although we're born from them God's word like a precious gem Promises that to us he will incline Because between our sin & perfection is a fine line. He made us in HIS image out of love Exercising His power from the heights above Instantly displaying His justice when His purpose was diverted In His infinite wisdom knowing His true lovers could not be converted. Promising to us he would restore Conditions of the Earth as they were before Paying with the life of his Son the ultimate price So that all exercising faith could once & always live in Paradise.. © 2012
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Jul 6, 2012
Jul 6, 2012 at 12:57 AM UTC
Fine Line
Saying my "goodnight"s to God my prayer inadvertently strays As my mind starts to wander in a million different ways. I reflect on where we started thousands of years in the past, When our first parents made a poor choice with consequences that would a long time last. Imagine: Not having to pray to God thru Christ his son But rather speaking to him as a friend one-on-one. As you walk in your garden with no property bounds You delight in the peace with the animals & the variety of sounds. But alas that deadly bite they took And the hope of everlasting life forsook. Their once perfect bodies now began to decay And onto their offspring this curse did relay. So the wheels in my head now spin To my inheritance of sin And my determination to overcome The inherent sin to which most succumb. Though the enemies try to fight To bring me down with all their might I know there is a stronger power A refuge & strong tower Into which I'm able to run When my own strength is done Because although we're born from them God's word like a precious gem Promises that to us he will incline Because between our sin & perfection is a fine line. He made us in HIS image out of love Exercising His power from the heights above Instantly displaying His justice when His purpose was diverted In His infinite wisdom knowing His true lovers could not be converted. Promising to us he would restore Conditions of the Earth as they were before Paying with the life of his Son the ultimate price So that all exercising faith could once & always live in Paradise.. © 2012
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36
we had been mopping the kitchen floor all day and the dirt never stopped coming back and earlier we had sprayed the entire front porch down with the garden hose and now it was still wet which made it feel as if it had recently rained when in fact the grass was a crunchy brown carpet of regrets. the night before we had drunk orange smoothies laced with lime and something aged sleek and dark (i think it must have been the reason we couldn't sleep that night lay awake in my parents bed and i told you why i wouldn't go swimming until the sun rose the dog barked the birds screamed their morning songs and my body stopped its nightly spasms of fear.) and the next evening we put on a miranda lambert song (the one we drank to in your mother's van last winter) sat on the wet porch swing and cracked open our first beers they were really bad i gagged because it tasted like carbonated banana bread with too much stale baking soda and we poured half of them into the flower beds the next morning was sunday and we had milk and muffins in the kitchen with simon and garfunkel then went back out to the porch drank iced coffee in the eleven o'clock sunlight and you said "if this were a normal sunday i would have been up at six at church by eight and done teaching my first sunday school class by ten." (is beer as much of an acquired taste as coffee is? because i can't ever remember not liking it i used to think it was bitter but i always liked it anyway.) i didn't say anything because i didn't want to say what was on the tip of my tongue that this kind of sunday had become my normalcy and our variety of saturday night no longer felt like underage drinking and more like the way i was meant to be.
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Aug 20, 2016
Aug 20, 2016 at 3:15 PM UTC
underage drinking
we had been mopping the kitchen floor all day and the dirt never stopped coming back and earlier we had sprayed the entire front porch down with the garden hose and now it was still wet which made it feel as if it had recently rained when in fact the grass was a crunchy brown carpet of regrets. the night before we had drunk orange smoothies laced with lime and something aged sleek and dark (i think it must have been the reason we couldn't sleep that night lay awake in my parents bed and i told you why i wouldn't go swimming until the sun rose the dog barked the birds screamed their morning songs and my body stopped its nightly spasms of fear.) and the next evening we put on a miranda lambert song (the one we drank to in your mother's van last winter) sat on the wet porch swing and cracked open our first beers they were really bad i gagged because it tasted like carbonated banana bread with too much stale baking soda and we poured half of them into the flower beds the next morning was sunday and we had milk and muffins in the kitchen with simon and garfunkel then went back out to the porch drank iced coffee in the eleven o'clock sunlight and you said "if this were a normal sunday i would have been up at six at church by eight and done teaching my first sunday school class by ten." (is beer as much of an acquired taste as coffee is? because i can't ever remember not liking it i used to think it was bitter but i always liked it anyway.) i didn't say anything because i didn't want to say what was on the tip of my tongue that this kind of sunday had become my normalcy and our variety of saturday night no longer felt like underage drinking and more like the way i was meant to be.
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78
Commitment issues This again? Yes but this time these are my words Not the labels thrown at me by exes Like arrows attempting to pierce me into place I thought it was meant to trap me But I think they just wanted me to stop To think To really evaluate myself To see the truth Im afraid of commitment. When I've been told this in the past I read it with the understanding that Commitment issues meant I Just couldn't have or didn't want a relationship And that just couldn't be true I mean just check my track record No, see My having commitment issues Is rooted deeply within my past These problems originate in an exciting mix of Trust issues Abandonment issues And a variety of other traumas I am not afraid to enter relationships And I do not avoid love Actually, I am obsessed with finding love With being loved All the while trying to love another Thinking I'm succeeding While subtly sabotaging myself in the process When I was small I did not receive the respect and care Needed to show I was loved Though my parent said they cared They didn't protect me the way they should have I had to take care of myself Look out for myself Because I was the only one I could trust Anytime I got close to someone They'd either decide to leave Or get ripped away by outside forces I was alone a lot And not great at making friends With the abuse happening at one house And some solace found at the other I was constantly fluctuating between Hellhole and liberation All while trying to have a childhood And survive adolescence So when they say I have commitment issues They're probably right But not for the reasons they think Not because I'm polyamorous Not because I don't want to commit Not because I don't love and Not because of who I am as a person My issues come from a long line of Different abuses by people who Were supposed to protect me But didn't So if you think to judge me For the trouble I have with trusting you And trusting you won't hurt me Or decide to leave when I'm "too much" Understand that I did not choose to be like this I didn't choose the pain that led me to love In such a haphazard way But I am choosing to do something about it
0
Sep 2, 2018
Sep 2, 2018 at 8:48 AM UTC
Issues with "Commitment"
Commitment issues This again? Yes but this time these are my words Not the labels thrown at me by exes Like arrows attempting to pierce me into place I thought it was meant to trap me But I think they just wanted me to stop To think To really evaluate myself To see the truth Im afraid of commitment. When I've been told this in the past I read it with the understanding that Commitment issues meant I Just couldn't have or didn't want a relationship And that just couldn't be true I mean just check my track record No, see My having commitment issues Is rooted deeply within my past These problems originate in an exciting mix of Trust issues Abandonment issues And a variety of other traumas I am not afraid to enter relationships And I do not avoid love Actually, I am obsessed with finding love With being loved All the while trying to love another Thinking I'm succeeding While subtly sabotaging myself in the process When I was small I did not receive the respect and care Needed to show I was loved Though my parent said they cared They didn't protect me the way they should have I had to take care of myself Look out for myself Because I was the only one I could trust Anytime I got close to someone They'd either decide to leave Or get ripped away by outside forces I was alone a lot And not great at making friends With the abuse happening at one house And some solace found at the other I was constantly fluctuating between Hellhole and liberation All while trying to have a childhood And survive adolescence So when they say I have commitment issues They're probably right But not for the reasons they think Not because I'm polyamorous Not because I don't want to commit Not because I don't love and Not because of who I am as a person My issues come from a long line of Different abuses by people who Were supposed to protect me But didn't So if you think to judge me For the trouble I have with trusting you And trusting you won't hurt me Or decide to leave when I'm "too much" Understand that I did not choose to be like this I didn't choose the pain that led me to love In such a haphazard way But I am choosing to do something about it
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69
oh you must be emo i mean the way your music screams and screeches oh you must be a preppy little ***** i mean the way you one direction blares oh you must be old too i mean the way you prehistoric music plays oh you must be a jesus freak i mean the way your gospel music is sung well does music really define you i mean i knew a person she was happy she was a tomboy she was young you knew her to be a christian yes but her music was a variety you'd think her crazy you'd call her music taste bi polar oh well you must hate all gay people i mean you go to church on sundays oh well you know t'v is in color right i mean the stuff you watch doesn't even have sound or words oh well you must be happy never thought about depression huh i mean your hair is blonde clothes are pink and you're head cheerleader oh well you must only own long sleeves and take anti depressants i mean you are always so quiet and never stand up for your self but that girl who goes to church she doesn't feel accepted at church because shes gay but that girl who watches black and white t.v. it was her moms favorite movie but that pretty blonde cheerleader her dads a drunk and beats her and her mom but that girl painted black shes really nice once you get to know her if only you knew her secret if only you knew her mother if only you lifted up her skirt and looked at her thighs if only you got to know her never let a persons music or look describe them why don't you go try to talk to them
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Oct 8, 2014
Oct 8, 2014 at 11:08 AM UTC
Stereotypes