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"warren" poems
*My dad broke my heart Way before a guy had the chance to *Kids who have holes in their souls In the shape of their dad. And If a father is unwilling or Unable to fill that hole, it can Leave a wound that is not Easily healed -Roland Warren *71% of high school Dropouts in the United States come From fatherless homes *A man ain't **** if he's No father To his Children A fathers hurt isn't the childs responsibility
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Oct 5, 2014
Oct 5, 2014 at 7:15 PM UTC
Daddyless Daughters Quotes
My limbs pinned and flayed. A curious crowd of men hover overhead, Floating faces bobbing closely Like great bearded balloons. In a flash of white and sharply gleaming silver, They swiftly strip my leather skin And, upon prying the cage, are astounded to have found Only a cavity in the place a heart should be. Throughout my warren of vein sits the last true proof That anything once flowed there— A thickly pickled ichor to make sickened Wives’ stomachs turn at their evening roast.
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Aug 16, 2018
Aug 16, 2018 at 5:00 PM UTC
I Am a Fetal Pig
everybody shaves so Warren Buffet invests in Gillette; and every country drinks so he also buys Coke shares - which leads me to my own investment strategy Every human sheds forty thousand skin cells an hour That’s forty thousand cells times 7 billion humans each hour– you listening? - now that’s a lot of dust; and not to forget the many cultures and nations that cremate rather than bury and that releases from each body in the barbecue 1.6 trillion cells of dust - it’s a ****** dusty world, isn’t it? so…I’ve got it all worked out… I’m investing in vacuum cleaners…
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Oct 6, 2013
Oct 6, 2013 at 4:57 AM UTC
my guide to investing
President Elizabeth Warren Vice-President Dwayne Johnson Treasury Secretary Bernie Sanders Chief of Staff Hillary Clinton Michelle Obama Secretary of State White House Spokesman Joe Biden Supreme Ct Nomine Barack Obama Why not run a champion ticket by joining together to win?
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Dec 17, 2018
Dec 17, 2018 at 6:12 PM UTC
2020 star ticket
For centuries we have all been fighting wars. Taking up arms and going off to fight. Fight because we’re told to or because we think it’s right. Taking up arms to fight the good fight. War becomes a habit – If you let it. So we all go out and **** all our foes. We gun them down and pick over the bones. We leave them for dead rolling about in pain. And sing Christmas Carols when it’s over. War became a habit – And we let it. Copyright: Gordon Warren (1980)
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Jun 16, 2014
Jun 16, 2014 at 5:10 PM UTC
War Becomes A Habit
#    *The killer came crashing down smashing,  thrashing through. What is tender's  tender        so  for itself,   to do?         --As it runs         right over the top of her..        This taker.        This killer. In the black,   now in between; so lightless and thick..         blotting out  all screams. There is an annihilation  here. A void. A terror. To stay, means certain death       but to leave         also means certain death       So the  d is m e m b e r men t   begins       as she is ripped, completely into half And those halves,  into half.. .. into half --into half..         into half.      And still it tears.. rips..  shreds-- Until all,  in between is nothing  but black. A black it can now  pretend to fill with all of its empty promises.. and all of its counterfeit, everything. ..And then--  just up and leaves once it is fully satiated.*      ***And for a while..      the black had something.*** *Clinging to the rocky crags on either side of the unlit valley are now  the pieces of her-- war-torn and shuddering. Terrified Of the black, black   empty. Of what is now  fully      and  completely   dark.       ~       ~      ~       ~ Timmy  ain't real tall but look at his stature, as his majestic strings   dialogue the introduction. And Warren's gotten so fat See him now, looking so dearly,  back at his half-pint of Chunky Monkey-- picking it back up,  for the fourth time.. scraping... scraping.. scraping.. But watch his eyes  light up as Timmy looks up--   over the top of those wild-man RayBans And with a gentle nod,  it all begins.. -- as our Warren  now digs  deep into his Gibson's beautifully-wanton  ways..     identifying.     clarifying.     Rectifying. Clarence, the Magician.. Stephan--  Humble, Unparalleled And Dave's  so chill he's part Creole.. I just know it. So great a cloud of witness: surrounding you, my beautiful.. coaxing  you.     Identifying it all for you.* #
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Mar 10, 2022
Mar 10, 2022 at 12:01 AM UTC
the C-word
#    *The killer came crashing down smashing,  thrashing through. What is tender's  tender        so  for itself,   to do?         --As it runs         right over the top of her..        This taker.        This killer. In the black,   now in between; so lightless and thick..         blotting out  all screams. There is an annihilation  here. A void. A terror. To stay, means certain death       but to leave         also means certain death       So the  d is m e m b e r men t   begins       as she is ripped, completely into half And those halves,  into half.. .. into half --into half..         into half.      And still it tears.. rips..  shreds-- Until all,  in between is nothing  but black. A black it can now  pretend to fill with all of its empty promises.. and all of its counterfeit, everything. ..And then--  just up and leaves once it is fully satiated.*      ***And for a while..      the black had something.*** *Clinging to the rocky crags on either side of the unlit valley are now  the pieces of her-- war-torn and shuddering. Terrified Of the black, black   empty. Of what is now  fully      and  completely   dark.       ~       ~      ~       ~ Timmy  ain't real tall but look at his stature, as his majestic strings   dialogue the introduction. And Warren's gotten so fat See him now, looking so dearly,  back at his half-pint of Chunky Monkey-- picking it back up,  for the fourth time.. scraping... scraping.. scraping.. But watch his eyes  light up as Timmy looks up--   over the top of those wild-man RayBans And with a gentle nod,  it all begins.. -- as our Warren  now digs  deep into his Gibson's beautifully-wanton  ways..     identifying.     clarifying.     Rectifying. Clarence, the Magician.. Stephan--  Humble, Unparalleled And Dave's  so chill he's part Creole.. I just know it. So great a cloud of witness: surrounding you, my beautiful.. coaxing  you.     Identifying it all for you.* #
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73
Darkness, shadows, Twisted thorns, Twisted trunks, Like hunched hags, Crooked trolls, Thorns and vines, Twisted, Intertwining, Like a maze, A thicket, All around, Casting shadows, Darkness, Creepy, Thorns piercing, Blood black in the moonlight, Shining through the branches, Tree trunks, Vines and thorns, Stillness, But movement, Half seen, Small, Creeping, Spiders, Mice, Rodents, Lizards, Life hidden, Forgotten, Unknown, Where only barrenness was known, A creature, Sitting, Watching, Looking up, Through slitted eyes, Like a frog, But grey, Something from deep within, Clinging to the thorns, To the branches, Spirit or animal, Phantom or subconscious image, In this forest, This warren, This thicket, Dark beauty, Life within the lifeless, The depths of a soul.
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May 17, 2011
May 17, 2011 at 10:39 PM UTC
Twisted Thorns
“But my chief argument in defence of **** An-shih is that…            he retired from the Court decisively, ignored all recalls, and            took to the mountains to write poetry of no political            significance whatever.”               – David Warren on the poet-philosopher **** An-Shih Recusancy is not pious quietism; In silence it is a brave voice withdrawn From pompous Kratos’ halls of treachery From screaming Demos’ marketplace of noise And up into the silent hills to save Something of civilization, to sing Matins among the mountain mists, to write A page in praise of Creation, to live - Recusancy is not quietism at all; It is a firm rebuke to tyranny
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Aug 25, 2018
Aug 25, 2018 at 3:34 PM UTC
"To Write Poetry of No Political Significance Whatever"
~ fallen… heroes all, saviors-in-training, on mission repeat; the service-giving, life-giving, members of a fighting team. existing solely that you and i can spend our time consumed with the art of loving well; their actions no less impassioned than our own, no less worthy, no less loving and no less selfless.   whatever we think of war, we must think of the individuals who move toward the fray rather than away; those to whom we owe our very everyday existence be it extraordinary or mundane; to their daily efforts., to their repeated training, to their daily sacrifice, we offer a prayer-filled salute! and to these who paid dearly, to wives, sons & daughters, mothers and fathers, nation with a grateful heart, a debt we cannot repay, we humbly offer our heart-filled and loving tribute. may you ever rest in peace. ~ *post script. serving you and me from Camp Lejeune, North Carolina, these fallen Marine heroes are: Capt. Stanford Henry Shaw III of Basking Ridge, New Jersey; Master Sgt. Thomas Saunders of Camp Lejeune; Staff Sgt. Liam Flynn of Queens, New York; Staff Sgt. Trevor P. Blaylock of Lake Orion, Michigan; Staff Sgt. Kerry Michael Kemp of Port Washington, Wisconsin; Staff Sgt. Andrew Seif of Holland, Michigan; and Staff Sgt. Marcus Bawol from Warren, Michigan http://www.marinecorpstimes.com/story/military/2015/03/13/names-of-7-marines-killed-in-helicopter-crash-released/70277156/ (the four fallen Guard members remain unnamed at this time) next month my son is deployed to points classified to us his parents. i can only think about his sacrifice in terms of time, money, exposure to danger …   and his safe return!*
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Mar 13, 2015
Mar 13, 2015 at 5:27 PM UTC
semper fidelis
~ fallen… heroes all, saviors-in-training, on mission repeat; the service-giving, life-giving, members of a fighting team. existing solely that you and i can spend our time consumed with the art of loving well; their actions no less impassioned than our own, no less worthy, no less loving and no less selfless.   whatever we think of war, we must think of the individuals who move toward the fray rather than away; those to whom we owe our very everyday existence be it extraordinary or mundane; to their daily efforts., to their repeated training, to their daily sacrifice, we offer a prayer-filled salute! and to these who paid dearly, to wives, sons & daughters, mothers and fathers, nation with a grateful heart, a debt we cannot repay, we humbly offer our heart-filled and loving tribute. may you ever rest in peace. ~ *post script. serving you and me from Camp Lejeune, North Carolina, these fallen Marine heroes are: Capt. Stanford Henry Shaw III of Basking Ridge, New Jersey; Master Sgt. Thomas Saunders of Camp Lejeune; Staff Sgt. Liam Flynn of Queens, New York; Staff Sgt. Trevor P. Blaylock of Lake Orion, Michigan; Staff Sgt. Kerry Michael Kemp of Port Washington, Wisconsin; Staff Sgt. Andrew Seif of Holland, Michigan; and Staff Sgt. Marcus Bawol from Warren, Michigan http://www.marinecorpstimes.com/story/military/2015/03/13/names-of-7-marines-killed-in-helicopter-crash-released/70277156/ (the four fallen Guard members remain unnamed at this time) next month my son is deployed to points classified to us his parents. i can only think about his sacrifice in terms of time, money, exposure to danger …   and his safe return!*
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68
Let’s start with a reminder: President Harding, President Woodrow Wilson, President McKinley, President Calvin Coolidge & President Harry S. Truman-- Harry giving them hell in my lifetime, In my time— An ever so proximate reminder-- These were all Presidents of the U.S. of A. Also, KKK Members. Warren G. Harding, for Christ’s sake, Was actually sworn into the Ku Klux **** At a **** ceremony Astonishingly conducted, Inside the White House, Presided over by Wizard Imperial of the Day, The Honorable Colonel Simmons. And I may as well throw in Justice Hugo of the Supreme Court Hugo Black in white robes, While we’re on the subject of cultural memory, To wit: the one Branch where Fairness Is supposed to go with the territory. You want to talk about race? Hey, don’t get me started.
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Jun 4, 2014
Jun 4, 2014 at 11:04 AM UTC
“Let’s Talk About Race”
Stay you Stay true Change not Others has been in your shoes and got talked about and criticized too! Be different. Why be the same? Even twins hates dressing the same way. Others has faced comments for being different Critiqued for drawing attention by those seeking control. Muhammad Ali, totally tested authority of rules. Got talked about by the same kinds crying about your sportsmanships of being different. Stay being Cam. When others cries about your ways. Goe Rhett Butler and say, you don't give a **** James Harris, Warren Moon and Jefferson Street Joe Gilliam all went before you. And was questioned about being a quarterback too! Notice if let to some you be playing a different position. Doug Williams, changed all that when he became the first Superbowl winning quarterback. Sure you could cave in and pretend the act of a Russel Wilson simply to be liked. But being Cam is what you most in life should always be like? Cause the press media doesn't pay your bills at night.
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Feb 2, 2016
Feb 2, 2016 at 12:41 PM UTC
Being Cam
distress men distress women     the children follow suit rooted        to their calculation    pick-pitted-                  minds-eye-                              bore-hole n' punction          functional ?   they ponder the fault   idling in their programs din rescue them ? their fearsome egos     will gum you up tup and rupture your goodwill despair man despair woman    the children groping at their heels sealed and merry mated     to the manner     spools that habit rabbits and fools back into the boil assess make a meal   displace them ?    their otherworldly longings ?     wrong them welcome      into your loving bloom this is how its done here's a catalogue   how big you've won    better gig    than landing on the moon distrust man deface woman       the children drink from the wound battle         become the saviour behaviour shot against the mood food to greet     the newly batched    cultural result faulty worthy of mention the soiled spell          going to drown though the generations recreation just trust   the serpent eye and the lens of peddling assault   holds everything to its station                                     for a jittering moment                                     for a breakable moment                                           a disgraced monument                                     bereft         fidgeting in its place
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Sep 23, 2022
Sep 23, 2022 at 9:49 AM UTC
charity warren
distress men distress women     the children follow suit rooted        to their calculation    pick-pitted-                  minds-eye-                              bore-hole n' punction          functional ?   they ponder the fault   idling in their programs din rescue them ? their fearsome egos     will gum you up tup and rupture your goodwill despair man despair woman    the children groping at their heels sealed and merry mated     to the manner     spools that habit rabbits and fools back into the boil assess make a meal   displace them ?    their otherworldly longings ?     wrong them welcome      into your loving bloom this is how its done here's a catalogue   how big you've won    better gig    than landing on the moon distrust man deface woman       the children drink from the wound battle         become the saviour behaviour shot against the mood food to greet     the newly batched    cultural result faulty worthy of mention the soiled spell          going to drown though the generations recreation just trust   the serpent eye and the lens of peddling assault   holds everything to its station                                     for a jittering moment                                     for a breakable moment                                           a disgraced monument                                     bereft         fidgeting in its place
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39
A friend of mine was unemployed, he didn’t know what to do. So he went down to the Army office and said “I want to join you”. So they sent him off to war, for something he didn’t know. They put a gun in his hand and said “shoot the ones across the road”. So he squatted down in the mud, with the **** the bullets, the bodies and the blood. Trying to think of the ones he loved. Trying to ignore all the death and the pain. Then he saw the enemy come up to him. He got his gun and went over to them. He looked him straight in the eyes, “That’s the first mistake”, the Officers replied. For he saw a young man about his age, he said “You’re the enemy, I must shoot you dead!”. The man said “Why?” and stood there still. My friend was silent and thought a lot. His mind went crazy, he couldn’t shoot. He couldn’t see why the war was on. Why was he fighting? What’s to be won? Why shoot a man the same as him? So he put his gun on the ground, and the enemy did the same. Then the Officers went up to them, and shot them both in the brain, and said “They should have played the game”, and went back from where they came, to carry on the war, like all those times before. Safe in their bunkers, with a gin and a straw! Copyright: Gordon Warren (1986)
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Jun 16, 2014
Jun 16, 2014 at 4:55 PM UTC
Futile Death of Two Sensible Soldiers
It's one after another Big business on parade Groveling before Congress about all the loot they made Millions upon millions on the backs of you and me Hurting all of us, not just metaphorically Then there is Congress, passing laws for the rich And the mighty corporations, how I wish We had in real life, Jimmy Stewart's Mr. Smith At least Elizabeth Warren is out there kicking *** And thank God, we've still got a free press Exposing the dishonesty, e.g. arbitration is very bad And old Bernie sure raised a ruckus, it's not over yet Still, I have hope, I love the USA So full of character and characters What did that candidate say? Vote your conscience (and your intellect) come Election Day We the people will finally get to play Oh yeah, and for real, God bless each of you today.
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Sep 23, 2016
Sep 23, 2016 at 6:36 PM UTC
Big Business on Parade
161 to 180 of 3251 Poets «78910»Viewsshow detailshide detailsSort by Margaret Kaufman Photo, Brownie Troop, St. Louis, 1949 Deborah Warren Marginalia Regan Huff Occurrence on Washburn Avenue Anne Marie Macari From the Plane Gerald Fleming There are no poems by this poet on our website. Sebastian Matthews Barbershop Quartet, East Village Grille Charles Harper Webb The Animals are Leaving Zozan Hawez Self-Portrait Jose Angel Araguz Gloves Russell Libby (1956–2012) Applied Geometry Robert Haight How Is It That the Snow Early October Snow Dan Lechay Ghost Villanelle James P. Lenfestey Daughter Robert Hedin (b. 1949) The Old Liberators My Mother's Hats John Maloney After Work Kaelum Poulson The Crow Stuart Kestenbaum Prayer for the Dead Emmett Tenorio Melendez My name came from . . . Gary Dop Father, Child, Water On Swearing Berwyn Moore Driving to Camp Lend-A-Hand «78910»
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Mar 13, 2014
Mar 13, 2014 at 9:01 PM UTC
Many ones #100
A fine kid raised in the thoughts of everybody around applying to the norm forged in wise conformity Body and soul resonating by the coldness spoken with your heart-warming voice Creation abandoning words become worlds deforming reality inside and outside your mind Do as you please, fine kid 'cause justified your actions are within the peace of your heart and the ignorance in your soul Education as weapon in a war behind your eyes freedom achieved by awakening yourself Fighting prohibited fleeing futile as truth lies when lies come true will you transcend?
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Aug 9, 2014
Aug 9, 2014 at 5:15 AM UTC
Warren's peace
I want to be you're secret Santa sliding down your stockings as tall as Arregon not fat and stout as Gimerly I am the patter of flighty wings still flapping as you return and the gifts that you bring means more then my being For I am your servant climbing into your bed just for a hug for I am just a kitten I would be your lord of the rings never never naughty just a boy that needs a toy to tweak hot lords of the rings Let me be you're Hobbit for you need not shave for Under Hill it is all the rave Come to my warren come to my keep and after loving may sweet hobbit s sleep By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris By NeonSolaris © 2011 NeonSolaris (All rights reserved)
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Nov 26, 2013
Nov 26, 2013 at 3:27 PM UTC
Lord Of The Things
Deep earth-brood brotherhood of pain anguish born no dreams or sleep twisted-warren foul eyes light hurt and hate their secrets keep no place for clean no time for peace this darkling land of no hope-sound just listen in the night and pray they stay beneath the ground
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Feb 15, 2011
Feb 15, 2011 at 1:54 AM UTC
Earth-Brood
So many doors tightly closed the need for more clothing and food can't be kept out it's a small hamlet by the river when a man stamps his foot the whole village wobbles a slap from a woman and the whole village is flooded with tears a cough in the dark reveals bricks of secrets two old stone mills like an old couple who have worn out their lives wind leaks through four walls a candle light dim and faint not a synonym for romance and cozy but luxury when they can't afford kerosene they eat, wash, get in the blankets before the candlelight goes out remainder of the light is only for the maternal needlework a curve creek clear and lucid when catching fish and mud-skippers they become as happy as the water joyful shrieks waft in the smoke from the cooking stove these scenes which can only be returned to if time regressed are very much alive in memory they just didn't grow with me many years later the warren became a rustic retreat days of the dirt and soil became a wandering cloud the stubborn local sounds suddenly emerge from baseless thoughts the mushed corn the yam gruel carrots and cabbage feeding the dream the mountains, the water, the people the kindly kampung the birthmark of that era.
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Nov 24, 2022
Nov 24, 2022 at 5:15 AM UTC
1950s Singapore
i guess you don't own the world china owns a big lump of the world and a good slice of the us too bill gates and warren buffett got a lot of coins in the pocket but not enough to own the world the insurance companies the banks the russian mafia fannie mae or freddie mac bono acts like he owns the world berlusconi i guess, surely would like to what about the pope or the big news mcdonald or the duck donald duck's uncle would be a disaster if they owned the world big waddling gluttons goes quack, quack, quack and father disney behind it all is dead so who is left to suppose to own the world the prince of dubai or me?
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Aug 10, 2014
Aug 10, 2014 at 9:08 AM UTC
who owns the world
Is it just imagination, or Is Wal-Mart running out of **** to put on their shelves? I swear. (And I intend on cee-ceeing Elizabeth Warren with this.) So, you want to do something About inequality in America? So, you want to give the working stiffs, A Fighting Chance, Is that the name of Your book, Senator Liz? I’ve heard it all before: It’s Hope & Change Redux, Babaloo! (And don’t get me started on Osama Obama.) Here’s my plan: You go aisle to aisle in any Superstore With a little notepad and pencil. Every time you see some Large plastic piece of **** Realizing they sell 15 million of  ‘em every year, All made by some Dink-Chink in China. QUESTION: So, what do you do, Mr. Policy Wonk? ANSWER: Federally-subsidize the Building & Operation of a plant Manufacturing that **** right here in Detroit. Or Atlanta, or Hartford, Cleveland or Fitchburg, Or even Oakland, Where San Francisco poor continue to squeeze. (Don’t get me started on Urban Gentrification.) Trust me on this: AMERICAN JOBS Will deodorize everything that Stinks about The Economy. “Capital Flight Gone Global: Invest where Labor comes cheap. Export those American jobs again & again.” QUESTION: What’s the difference Between a middle-class person And a poor person in America? A middle-class job, ******** But I digress. I was sharing an observation: Wal-Mart’s shelves are Not as luscious, as they once were. Gaps left for PINEAPPLE CHUNKS, With only CRUSHED PINEAPPLE Cans in stock, e.g. So much for that On-line, Real-time, Instant supply-chain, Super-duper Inventory system, Mr. Walton. Arkansas wasn’t such a good idea, after all. Was it Mr. Sam?
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May 19, 2015
May 19, 2015 at 4:39 PM UTC
“Arkansas Wasn’t Such A Good Idea, After All”
Is it just imagination, or Is Wal-Mart running out of **** to put on their shelves? I swear. (And I intend on cee-ceeing Elizabeth Warren with this.) So, you want to do something About inequality in America? So, you want to give the working stiffs, A Fighting Chance, Is that the name of Your book, Senator Liz? I’ve heard it all before: It’s Hope & Change Redux, Babaloo! (And don’t get me started on Osama Obama.) Here’s my plan: You go aisle to aisle in any Superstore With a little notepad and pencil. Every time you see some Large plastic piece of **** Realizing they sell 15 million of  ‘em every year, All made by some Dink-Chink in China. QUESTION: So, what do you do, Mr. Policy Wonk? ANSWER: Federally-subsidize the Building & Operation of a plant Manufacturing that **** right here in Detroit. Or Atlanta, or Hartford, Cleveland or Fitchburg, Or even Oakland, Where San Francisco poor continue to squeeze. (Don’t get me started on Urban Gentrification.) Trust me on this: AMERICAN JOBS Will deodorize everything that Stinks about The Economy. “Capital Flight Gone Global: Invest where Labor comes cheap. Export those American jobs again & again.” QUESTION: What’s the difference Between a middle-class person And a poor person in America? A middle-class job, ******** But I digress. I was sharing an observation: Wal-Mart’s shelves are Not as luscious, as they once were. Gaps left for PINEAPPLE CHUNKS, With only CRUSHED PINEAPPLE Cans in stock, e.g. So much for that On-line, Real-time, Instant supply-chain, Super-duper Inventory system, Mr. Walton. Arkansas wasn’t such a good idea, after all. Was it Mr. Sam?
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59
I'll reach that midnight train first A surreal journey, too uncanny Wonder how the heck I got here All tied up, yet sought release . . . . So many passages, so many trails I follow you down every ambiguous path Oh dear, will I get lost in this? In which warren will I find you hiding? I tie tape across your red mouth Make you walk an unsteady plank Across a deep chasm of unknown Don't slip now or dare scream out! In glass, reflected in the sun You look at me and smile oh-so sweet But refracted light splits up and breaks Now you think I'm someone else . . . . Am getting off this Roundabout Too draining for my psyche Ah, shoulda figured the universe owes me A massive kick in the teeth, alas! You're makin' jam, and I'm so nuts 'bout you We are sandwiched together, just you and me But small consolation prize....is all you see Bicycle has TWO wheels, for a reason! You want me to stop. As you stand, hands tied behind your back. As i stand so so close to you, would you look away . . . . Would you want me to stop? Ok. I'll stop . . . . no, please! Shhh, now now....easy now....hush, baby Think I'll stuff yer ******* into your mouth And fire away the ready rockets inside you Come, baby....please feel what's in my pocket . . . . See through the window of your soul Don't fret now, I won't judge at all Come closer, let me feel your heat You're giving just what I need right now. I'm making you feel all kindsa things Yet you fear to utter what they are So scared you are, I wonder why Oi, no running in the hallways here! Clouds at last, I see you now Oh, the pretty pictures that you paint On the waiting canvass of my thoughts In such bright and vivid repartee. Can you feel me, baby? Here I am... Heavy love hanging in the late hours Feel me now...I know you can feel me Slide my sword into your sheath . . . . See you peep still through the window of my mind Nose pressed against the glass Lucky to live half a lifetime in an afternoon We leave soft, grey messages in the sand. Still wonder how we ever got here You're so open and so giving Loved ones often kick a gift horse down They see not wonders of the gem, all hid. So, I have a thing I want to know Now, what is it you really want? Cos, you were once in love; so deeply fooled Carried away by reflections in a glass . . . . By Star Toucher, 8 February 2013
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Feb 8, 2013
Feb 8, 2013 at 12:35 AM UTC
Reflections in a glass
I'll reach that midnight train first A surreal journey, too uncanny Wonder how the heck I got here All tied up, yet sought release . . . . So many passages, so many trails I follow you down every ambiguous path Oh dear, will I get lost in this? In which warren will I find you hiding? I tie tape across your red mouth Make you walk an unsteady plank Across a deep chasm of unknown Don't slip now or dare scream out! In glass, reflected in the sun You look at me and smile oh-so sweet But refracted light splits up and breaks Now you think I'm someone else . . . . Am getting off this Roundabout Too draining for my psyche Ah, shoulda figured the universe owes me A massive kick in the teeth, alas! You're makin' jam, and I'm so nuts 'bout you We are sandwiched together, just you and me But small consolation prize....is all you see Bicycle has TWO wheels, for a reason! You want me to stop. As you stand, hands tied behind your back. As i stand so so close to you, would you look away . . . . Would you want me to stop? Ok. I'll stop . . . . no, please! Shhh, now now....easy now....hush, baby Think I'll stuff yer ******* into your mouth And fire away the ready rockets inside you Come, baby....please feel what's in my pocket . . . . See through the window of your soul Don't fret now, I won't judge at all Come closer, let me feel your heat You're giving just what I need right now. I'm making you feel all kindsa things Yet you fear to utter what they are So scared you are, I wonder why Oi, no running in the hallways here! Clouds at last, I see you now Oh, the pretty pictures that you paint On the waiting canvass of my thoughts In such bright and vivid repartee. Can you feel me, baby? Here I am... Heavy love hanging in the late hours Feel me now...I know you can feel me Slide my sword into your sheath . . . . See you peep still through the window of my mind Nose pressed against the glass Lucky to live half a lifetime in an afternoon We leave soft, grey messages in the sand. Still wonder how we ever got here You're so open and so giving Loved ones often kick a gift horse down They see not wonders of the gem, all hid. So, I have a thing I want to know Now, what is it you really want? Cos, you were once in love; so deeply fooled Carried away by reflections in a glass . . . . By Star Toucher, 8 February 2013
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Has it been that long since I saw you last? A breathe of fresh air from my past. Warren street on a Fall Friday night... Just you, me, a waning moonlight. Leafs falling softly from the maples above, Walking Sidewalks of grey With my ladylove Our time together was.................. Percy's takes the words right off my lips... ( When         A           Man               Loves                 A                   Woman) I can only hope you made it past our love affair Cause deep down I'm still smelling your hair, I'd like to keep you here with me baby. Letting you go one day seemed so crazy! Let's forget those lines I just erased, Way to ****** for this old mans taste Let's leave it at this..you made me so very happy Cause When the sunshines..I know we'll both be stronger!
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Feb 4, 2016
Feb 4, 2016 at 11:46 PM UTC
When a man loves a Woman