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"vocie" poems
The country road like  poet’s fancies unravels Through the   giant hanky- sized paddy fields And  the dream  sized ponds Dotting  the landscape in perfect  squires and riots of skewed and regular shapes The green spread and the muddy beds, spell the village beauty. Parrot green fields And  stark blue skies  look at each other In perfect silence, like mother and babe And a   great , grey house  exposing its ragged bricks, Bared like  the buck tooth of the old Provokes a  village memory Past picking itself slowy and ambling into the future Its wooden columns stand like mute exclamation marks! or so it may look to me. Flies  the  skidding scaly tarred  snake   Fast and spreading like the traveler travelling on it. Patchy it looks, now;   And  full like the  misery  of the scorned lover Eager like  the  maiden speech of a parlimentarian   The country road, runs fluid like a stream after the rains. As the rustle of the engine   trips and   falls into the  divine  air. A  roaming peacock calling adds  charm to the great whole fare A winged beauty, struts across Nudged by the sputtering , speeding me. The exotic avian   attains the hedges galore With its   metal blue  feathery strangeness blurred in my glancing eye A species rare, found only in ornithologists diary. A  clamour in the  air And the   school boys emerge in buddy pairs Beneath the village banyan That let loose its tresses to dry like a country maid. I see, a promising glint in their eyes The will make themselves of king and ministers of the modern days The  sonority of ringing bell   clubs the cacophony of school boys in into two dead parts. They return to their classes, sanctified by the silence, And open their minds to the feminine vocie. A Glorious moment , As the  morn of wisdom is born Rich are the sightings of poor country side And many are the mappings on the way, My sensibilities recouped, I drove back not spent But profound. sound.
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Sep 13, 2010
Sep 13, 2010 at 5:15 AM UTC
The country side
The country road like  poet’s fancies unravels Through the   giant hanky- sized paddy fields And  the dream  sized ponds Dotting  the landscape in perfect  squires and riots of skewed and regular shapes The green spread and the muddy beds, spell the village beauty. Parrot green fields And  stark blue skies  look at each other In perfect silence, like mother and babe And a   great , grey house  exposing its ragged bricks, Bared like  the buck tooth of the old Provokes a  village memory Past picking itself slowy and ambling into the future Its wooden columns stand like mute exclamation marks! or so it may look to me. Flies  the  skidding scaly tarred  snake   Fast and spreading like the traveler travelling on it. Patchy it looks, now;   And  full like the  misery  of the scorned lover Eager like  the  maiden speech of a parlimentarian   The country road, runs fluid like a stream after the rains. As the rustle of the engine   trips and   falls into the  divine  air. A  roaming peacock calling adds  charm to the great whole fare A winged beauty, struts across Nudged by the sputtering , speeding me. The exotic avian   attains the hedges galore With its   metal blue  feathery strangeness blurred in my glancing eye A species rare, found only in ornithologists diary. A  clamour in the  air And the   school boys emerge in buddy pairs Beneath the village banyan That let loose its tresses to dry like a country maid. I see, a promising glint in their eyes The will make themselves of king and ministers of the modern days The  sonority of ringing bell   clubs the cacophony of school boys in into two dead parts. They return to their classes, sanctified by the silence, And open their minds to the feminine vocie. A Glorious moment , As the  morn of wisdom is born Rich are the sightings of poor country side And many are the mappings on the way, My sensibilities recouped, I drove back not spent But profound. sound.
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she came from a broken home, wasn't to ambitious and the fact she was loose was surreptitious she did this to make up for what her childhood lacked so she picked dudes up and droped them quick like jacks so it wasn't surprising that after a while her abdomen became an embryo's domicile she didn't want it but her parents weren't pro-choice she might as well have had strep throat, had no vocie her days were then filled with insults down right explict all this for just one unsurpervised visit after nine months of the tribulations of misogyny it was time to bring forth her progeny after a few ardous hours she gave birth to a girl which suprisingly filled her with mirth she  relized she had something to live for and she promised to give her everything she need and to not let anything encumber her daughter's success as she watched her slumber she named her rose because she if it took till the world's doom she would nuture this child untill she finally blooms
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Nov 4, 2014
Nov 4, 2014 at 1:56 PM UTC
revelations part 2
There are demons among us, angels in disguse.. We dont know the difference, they all came from the sky.. but we all walk on earth, heads up in the clouds... Would you know his vocie, if he was screaming out loud... Or do we think he's paper, materialistic dreams... money making favors, thats just what it seems... These demon playing angels, catch you with there schemes... Tell You that happiness, is found in all these things.. Gravitate to the lavish life, cuz that weights stronger.... and let go of the free fall, into a deeper hunger... So we over eat, indulge, and over treat... Not carring bout the brother you left hungry on the street.. forget about his need... He waisted his own life,we live a different type of greed... Cuz we only care about ourselves... Responsiblity,hahaha put my kids up on the shelves... Thats what my father did.... So I'll follow in his foots steps,not the ones mommy lived... Thats alright we say,thats alight... A way for you to cope,with the things that wasn't right... The lavish livng life, the one this money gave... The one I'll never get, but ill keep tryin to the grave... Wheres the mind set,where is the heart in that... Do you ever remember your mission, it wasn't about that... You were sent to save the world.. all my boys and girls... But if money is all you breathe, then you'll never believe... And The whole world is lost in your greed...
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Mar 27, 2012
Mar 27, 2012 at 9:54 AM UTC
Lost angels
i have a hidden tallent of my life a singer or the voice that can touch your hearts. my mind thinks up a storm that comes to a plan on a friday afternoon. my voice can only be heard if your heart has the courrage to follow what you want the most. my voice is what my stories come to life. cause my true love came and gave me hope to write this line. my mind thinks first for what salllom words i could think to say to you to touch your heart deep. i know i will proable be alone with my thoughts. but ever word ever said threw my voice i hope it made you go mad with crazy love. night and day come and go but i will never let my smooth gental words leave me. that all i got when i feel abandoned. my hidden voice can make your anger go leaving your life with peace. my hidden talent with my voice can make words stories poems love notes and creat or life memories. my hidden voice can only be heard for the traped broken lies. my hidden voice can lift you off your feet when thinks start getting bad. my hidden voice can heal your soul if your willing to listen to me while i start to write my entire life stories. you will never be alon if your voice meets me down the slop. my hidden voice can do many things but will never be harsh or angery just a loving kind blank page you should start writing to fin me and you with our true love stories
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Nov 22, 2015
Nov 22, 2015 at 5:35 PM UTC
my hidden vocie