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"yue" poems
There's a girl from Loyang in the door across the street, She looks fifteen, she may be a little older. ...While her master rides his rapid horse with jade bit an bridle, Her handmaid brings her cod-fish in a golden plate. On her painted pavilions, facing red towers, Cornices are pink and green with peach-bloom and with willow, Canopies of silk awn her seven-scented chair, And rare fans shade her, home to her nine-flowered curtains. Her lord, with rank and wealth and in the bud of life, Exceeds in munificence the richest men of old. He favours this girl of lowly birth, he has her taught to dance; And he gives away his coral-trees to almost anyone. The wind of dawn just stirs when his nine soft lights go out, Those nine soft lights like petals in a flying chain of flowers. Between dances she has barely time for singing over the songs; No sooner is she dressed again than incense burns before her. Those she knows in town are only the rich and the lavish, And day and night she is visiting the hosts of the gayest mansions. ...Who notices the girl from Yue with a face of white jade, Humble, poor, alone, by the river, washing silk?
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A Song of a Girl from Loyang
Jekyl or Hyde above the belly on a beer tap in the ally, below the waste goombaya out of the preachers face, it's my body Yue!!! now You!!! tattoo this on on my chest, permanently now hidden behind a vest. gin & tonic sure don't mean tiger given to a drunk crit as an insult from China.
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Apr 17, 2023
Apr 17, 2023 at 2:07 PM UTC
Yin and Yang by Yue-You for a yoyo.
Does your completed wurk look as if it were tiped while wearing a baceball gluv? That liddle red, squigley, line that often appeers beneeth a  wurd, shows up for a reeson. A signal that something "just ain't right." Weather a speling or punkshuashun issue,pay attenshun to it. A mispeled wurd can distract the readers attenshun froom the subject of the peece, and creates a very uneezy reed. Keep a dicshunery near you're desk. Go bak and refresh when to us too 'C's, too M's", (dubble consanants)etc. Know you're "valves" a-e-i-o-u. Know where to place an apocolipse when writing a contractshun(can't, don't).................. Use the correct wurdes!! Know the diffrance between "Their", and "There." A dicshunary can also prevent having to exit a wurk, and risk losing it by forgeting to save it. Pay attentshun, PLEEZE! copyright: richard riddle-10-07-15 Thanks, richard riddle
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Oct 7, 2015
Oct 7, 2015 at 8:56 AM UTC
"Pleeze Chek Yue'r Speling"(and gramar)
By: Cedric McClester It was clear from the beginning That the only one who’s winning From the violence underpinning Why our population’s thinning Are the morgues and undertakers As we leave to meet our Maker’s Heaven high or hell below Becuz’ ya see, we never know When our ashes turn to dust It’s enough to cause disgust As the perpetrators cuss Then let their gun shots bust Two rounds in the head And the floors are running red If you heard a word I said No need to ask if they’re dead But we’ll swallow up our grief And no matter our belief Try to seek Godly relief For yet another unwarranted beef And regardless of the venue Violence is still on the menu So no doubt it will continue Like dancers of China’s Shen Yue Let’s go in the laboratory To review this time worn story With its familiar repertory And ironic allegory It doesn’t make no sense Like our Vice President Pence Guess we’ll be kept in suspense Until things get less intense Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2019.  All rights reserved.
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Feb 17, 2019
Feb 17, 2019 at 7:29 PM UTC
THE ONLY ONE WHO’S WINNING
#*For Yue **** Yidhna* And All Who Brew Morning Poetry  for the World You are neither barista nor priestess Even though perhaps a little bit of both You do not serve either McDonald or Tim But rather the supplicants who approach Who plead with you to offer them the Cup Of transient peace and hope in this sad world A layered paper chalice wherein is borne Colombian savour, healing and warm And it is from your hands that they receive A special blessing, and strength for their day
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Mar 6, 2018
Mar 6, 2018 at 2:38 PM UTC
"Order 263...263...!"
The girl follows the fox follows the girl. -- (Excerpt from a fox story of the Songlands 1000-1200 AD, author unknown.) “Fox, I must go.” “Don’t go,” the Fox pleaded, “Who will play with me in the streams? Who will hunt with me in the spring? Who will make dumplings with me and watch the sunrise?" “I must go. The winds call to me.” “Let me come with you. I shall be your companion. I will guard over at night when the road is long and dark and gather berries and hunt in the woods so that you will never be hungry.” “What of your home, dear Fox? Are you not a fox of Ming Yue Mountain?” He became shy from this question, unable to meet her eyes. He muttered something she could not hear. Then his usual bluster returned. “These lands will not hold me.” They are not my home. Abril smiled, “Then we shall go on a great adventure together.” The Fox jumped into the air in delight and flipped around. When he touched the ground, he had grown a sleek dark red coat and proudly displayed his nine fluffy tails. Abril marvelled over them and scratched behind his ears. -- She is the hunter, storm clouds in her eyes and lightening in her veins. She is no stranger to blood, to bloodlust, to holding death in her hands. She bares her fangs. The air cackles with ozone, fresh pine, and mulberries. Where she runs, she leaves no trail. The winds whisper her name. A fox runs with her. Sometimes a woman, sometimes a man. Sometimes neither. She runs and the world turns – Fall autumn winter spring, She runs along the Tree of Worlds, From one life to another.
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Oct 12, 2020
Oct 12, 2020 at 6:19 PM UTC
Part 5 The Hunter and the Fox
The girl follows the fox follows the girl. -- (Excerpt from a fox story of the Songlands 1000-1200 AD, author unknown.) “Fox, I must go.” “Don’t go,” the Fox pleaded, “Who will play with me in the streams? Who will hunt with me in the spring? Who will make dumplings with me and watch the sunrise?" “I must go. The winds call to me.” “Let me come with you. I shall be your companion. I will guard over at night when the road is long and dark and gather berries and hunt in the woods so that you will never be hungry.” “What of your home, dear Fox? Are you not a fox of Ming Yue Mountain?” He became shy from this question, unable to meet her eyes. He muttered something she could not hear. Then his usual bluster returned. “These lands will not hold me.” They are not my home. Abril smiled, “Then we shall go on a great adventure together.” The Fox jumped into the air in delight and flipped around. When he touched the ground, he had grown a sleek dark red coat and proudly displayed his nine fluffy tails. Abril marvelled over them and scratched behind his ears. -- She is the hunter, storm clouds in her eyes and lightening in her veins. She is no stranger to blood, to bloodlust, to holding death in her hands. She bares her fangs. The air cackles with ozone, fresh pine, and mulberries. Where she runs, she leaves no trail. The winds whisper her name. A fox runs with her. Sometimes a woman, sometimes a man. Sometimes neither. She runs and the world turns – Fall autumn winter spring, She runs along the Tree of Worlds, From one life to another.
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siken’s never mentioned this. this dread that climbs up my throat and makes you repulsive to see. i’m going to scratch my eyes out. and you’re going to watch, bloodied fingernails and broken corneas. just for today, the grass whispers. only for today, the moon’s for you to want. i wouldn’t hate anything more.
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Jan 19, 2021
Jan 19, 2021 at 10:41 AM UTC
yue