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    marye
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    By suggestion, a place for the poets among us to post their words.

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  • Hozomeen
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    words
    words…..why why why so many floating searching seeking falling tripping slipping groping feeling stabbing cutting blunting crushing killing all around like smoke it smells like the thing it used to be and swirls around itself making patterns breaking rules taking fools along for a ride up up up and around through and out without knowing seeing hearing glaring starring till the cloud is just dust falling and calling scalding and balding the surface of everything we see
  • Hozomeen
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    numbers
    one two three four my number is three but what’s it for, some system of three like one two three three plus one three plus two three plus three three plus three plus one three plus three plus two three plus three plus three….arbitrary names for things we call numbers and we all have one
  • littlebri
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    My magnetic life
    The sky is the ocean above our little lobster heads. The waves of clouds create, the waves of clouds move to make the wind and the sea bed. Formations of rock and stone from the surgical whisp whirling and swirling fumbling and twirling as it whistles through and around my head. Feelings of harsh sincerity harsh reality and harsh naivety rush to me. These feelings, they rush right through me consuming all of what I thought I knew. Consuming all of who I thought to be true. Now I am left swimming here, and crawling here, in this ocean of atmospheric pressure. It relentlessly keeps pushing itself down on me. My shoulders ache, my head aches, and my stomache screams. I don't think my compulsions or my con-vul-sions could have kept me from something so emancipated and inhumane. This distraught loss I feel I have suffered is now a new awakening. My life is nothing but materialistic. I thought these things had meaning and purpose, but what is purpose without a soul? It's a vicious cycle with my footprint stamped in time. From a single seed I grew, now 5 feet 8 inches tall and left with an empty soul. Degredation stemming from the 11th hour. It is our time now to shine. This generation of ours so behind. Industry came on the e-train and the time has come for it to go again. Deep within I have found another way to be free. It's this bright light that shines so deep into my eyes. Blinded by this path of perfection that I had to be. But this light, with it's scathing little intricacies and delicasies and in-for-malities. Inside we must learn. Inside we must grow. Inside we must follow. This little winding road, that twists and turns until silence overcomes. We must watch as the ground below us slowly dissolves away, slowly spreads itself and connects in so many forms. Staggered little dots creating this painting of the big picture. We have no idea where the earth and sky meet, there is no line beneath my feet, and this... rocky path. My fingertips extending into this distant whistling ocean in the sky. The clouds, like waves, rumble and roll atop my head in my magnetic life. ~littlebri
  • Hozomeen
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    buttons
    machine chain reaction push the button and go…no stopping do the job built to do designed to do mechanism jester twelve-fingered freak entertaining at best push the button and let’s see what he’ll do family distraction, common bond, golden child link to humanity dance, make us laugh, but don’t make us think back back back now you twelve-fingered freak push the button, start the machine….wake that motherfucker up push it again I’m bored until……….. eight leathery fingers and four leathery thumbs close tight around one soft throat, skin stained with black resin, fat strong fingers, scared, cut, bleeding, scabbed, used, useful…..push it again motherfucker, I dare you….pulls one arm back, slowly cocking, muscles tightening, bulbous, salty, years and tears of steel out at sea and they have no idea what they have on their hands now, chaffing hemp rope leathery black resign stained acrid skin around throat uncomfortable to the touch beyond the pressure alone…..every time you push that button, my son pays…..four fingers and two thumbs and the strong right hand balls up into hammer fist…. go ahead, push it again….I dare you….my son is standing right there behind me, take a good look at his face and push it again…it’s right there in front of you…all you have to do is push…..and…..laugh……and…….see what happens next…. …and with his tongue he pushes the Copenhagen tighter into his lower lip, and with a click click click he moves his head side to side and pop pop pop on his muscle of a neck and with brown dribble on his chin….how funny am I now?
  • DeadNextDoor
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    Thanks Mom...
    Mom, how you made my world sing:With stories of the Summer of Love in Frisco and everything; About supergroups you saw when they were brand new; About Jerry and the Boys living next door to you. With characters like Leary, Kenyon, and Steve Miller, What more could you ask for, sounds like a thriller. The experiment seemed such a sucess, I wish it were true That society evolved at the pace you all set it to. Down at the Purple Onion, Steve Miller jammin' Indian style, Pigpen beltin' out the blues if only for a while. Joni Mitchell on the wall, shy as a mouse, Janis and Big Brother tearing down the house. Must have been a trip as a working artist in that town. I can remember the SF scene from my perspective near the ground. The change in the air, it seemed like revolution; The times since then seem such a dilution. I wish I could go back and live it for a while, Seems like I'd have a permanent A-time smile. That groove you all set, it still lingers on, Though the torchbearers seem all but gone. When Jerry went, I felt a part of me go. Now that you're gone, it seems like the end of the show. But I realize this is the hardest part of the test, Cause when things get rough, you've got to be at your best. We are the torchbearers, it's our turn to fly. The world we live in is our alibi. It's our song now and we get to sing it, So don't be afraid, just get out there and wing it.
  • DeadNextDoor
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    trippy 66slim, sounds like a real story
    Unless chaos rules constant the lives of men, My future must certain my past replevin. And ere yet I finish, with gainful intent, Applying my craft, with respect due dissent. Giving metre it's purpose and weaving with rhyme, So that men might gain focus from years worn with time. Fact past and present, forevre entwined, With one common purpose, continuation of kind. Or how about something really dark and dismal...we're talking a fat bummer... Loneliness is a force that steals life's precious moments drop by drop, bled to the beat of drumming angst, frustration, or resignation. The unfulfilling satiation of the flesh and the paring of hope from the bleeding exposed bone. Mis-spent minutes fade to hours, then to years, stoicly plodding towards death. The hearts magic tickle grows fainter as dreams become worn memories. Unrequited fantasy, unparalleled waking excitement feed secret longing and desparate hope. Longed for visons and possibilities demand unanswered devoted action and grow the black fruit of bitterness and envy. The answer to the heart's cry goes unheard by ears straining to hear as its muffled voice is kept wrapt in a bloody woolen rag. The pulse, once spurred to beat so strongly and quickly, rising to the moment in anticipation, grows stagnant and thready. Its purpose never realised, the flesh it fed, only filling out form, shrinks without filling the mold. Time grinds the bones towards dust. Grasping fingers claw for any hold as the fall from potential reality accelerates the backwards plunge into the dark anonymous abyss. So many others falling, all in silence, each alone. Each grasping and straining to hear the muffled voice wrapt in a bloody woolen rag.
  • JerseySchwartz
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    wave that flag
    The White snow mountain in the center depicts the land of the great nation of Tibet. The six red rays emanating from the sun symbolize the six original peoples of Tibet: the Se, Mu, Dong, Tong, Dru, and Ra. The blue rays symbolize the commitment to spirtual and secular rule. The pair of snow-lions symbolize the complete victory of the spiritual and secular rule. The three-sided yellow border reresents the flourishing of the Buddha’s teachings. The side without a border represents Tibet’s openness to non Buddhist thought. The raised jewel symbolizes Tibet’s reverence for the three Precious Gems: the Buddha, the Dharma and the Sangha.
  • grdaed73
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    5 stealies
    very nice, was her name joan?
  • 66slim
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    submitted for your approval
    Magic in the Valley It was the summer of 85 and I was feeling very alive Dancing with the Dead and spacing in my head With an audience of pine trees and rain clouds Weaving through the mass of swirling crowds As the band left the stage for the first set break My mind was peaking with all I could take I slowed to a small bouncing rhythmic twirl And then I saw the most beautiful girl She wore a pink and blue dress As she danced amid the mess She had flowers in her hair And her dirty feet were bare It seemed as if we were completely alone Then I hear the theme of the “Twilight Zone” She whispers to me “Women are Smarter” And that was the second set starter She vanished somewhere during the song So I just keep on trucking along And finished out the show that night Remembering her smile, what a lovely sight The second show was anything but one more Saturday night The band was so in touch it gave me a fright The energy kept on growing as well as my smile I two stepped and half stepped for what seemed like a mile As I was grooving along with the sound of drums From out of nowhere here she comes Her smile alight like a lost sailors beacon I knew that she held all I was seeking She breathed “Dear Mr. Fantasy” into my ear And at that very moment Jerry shifts into gear The sweet melodic twangs of his steel guitar Take me to a place quite distant and far She looked deep in my eyes in a special way And said “I need a miracle every day” We kept on dancing as she called out the tunes Next song they play will be “Stella Blue” As she named “Throwing Stones” I felt a chill in my bones And I thought “What are the odds, Is she a messenger from the gods?” “Not Fade Away” will be the end of the set But don’t worry it is not over yet This dark haired beauty with big brown eyes Was guiding the music to my total surprise For an encore she paused and then said with a wink We will hear “US Blues” I think But “Brokedown Palace” was the encore song How could my angel get it wrong? She frowned then smiled and laughed so sweet And said, Well “Us Blues” would have been neat But hey, I can’t always be right Maybe that one’s tomorrow night Then without a sound she twirled away Leaving me alone with a touch of gray I will never forget that magical night in June With the fallen angel of “Name that Tune” Tim
  • Frankly
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    A poem for us Deadheads
    1Have you ever been so happy to see these boys arriving with their truckloads full of music,and their eyes just shining? Yes,I see the questionmark twirling round your head the answer is,my unknown friend,here came to Grateful Dead. Refrain:And we are the people allways waiting for our Boys first song which grabs us from the start and makes all dance along We are just funny cosmic hobos,and were proud to be The Deads own gand who allways tryin to spread harmony 2.Thousand languages are spoken on our planet earth but only one is understood by everyone who cares Its the golden notes of Jerrys guitar playin with the band and when this tunes sets in wer happy like little kids in wonderland Refrain:Thats because we are the people who allways wait for another note of Grateful music that were sharing and the lyrics we can quote so like i told you we are hobos from the world of sound proud to be the Deads own gang,were allways be around.
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Conception,Birth., Beauty. Sickness, Old age, Death. Conception, Rebirth Stop. I just want To stop. Or at least Slow down At the Beauty part. Please?
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Long time no hear, Free. Let us know if you're still kicking in Vermont's poet cathedral...
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What Anna said...
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A rose arousedInspires desires Arising as pyres Suspiring expire
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Musical notes fallSynapses register joy Crazy toe traction
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In Houghton-le-Spring,If you hear a bird sing, It wouldn’t be that rare I must say. But if you see one dance Then it must be from France In County Durham on holiday. It’s just too absurd To suggest British birds Partake in dances of any kind. At least not in full view, That will never do. British birds are far too refined. A poem from my latest collection of comic verse for Children... Further info here: http://originalwriting.ie/bookshop/poetry/a-poets-nonsensical-journey-t…
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Tears and Time Glistening Tears Crystalline Drops Streaming Alone Through Smiling Grooves Meeting Their Bed of Tissues like Flesh Leaves the Spirit to Depart From It Unable to Reverse It Nothing You Can Do The Drops of Reality in those Tissues... Could Water the Crops and Extinguish a Wildfire With Their... Painful & Somber Voyage. Ah but Now Those Tissues Become Like The Fabric of a Mother's Apron on a Sunny Afternoon. Oh... It Must Be Time To Play. 'Mother Mary Come's to Me Speaking Words of Wisdom... Let It Be." "La,la,la,la...."
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I don't have a poetic bone in my body(and I really do enjoy reading the poetry here), but a recent event which happened to me earlier this week during my lunch break inspired me to try my hand at this most cool haiku - so here goes: Flies on fresh dog doo squishing through my five bare toes should have stayed in bed not exactly enlightening or insightful (or"a heavy sense of Zen") but it does leave the reader with a vivid mental image..........lol and hope you are too :D PS. I was eating my daily refried bean sandwich when this happened and the irony was not lost on my laughing hyena coworkers.
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Promise Yourself... To be so strong that nothing can disturb your peace of mind. To talk health, happiness and prosperity to every person you meet. To make all your friends feel that there is something in them. To look at the sunny side of everything and make your optimism come true. To think of only the best, to work only for the best, and to expect only the best. To be just as enthusiastic about the success of others as you are about your own. To forget the mistakes of the past and press on to the greater achievements of the future. To wear a cheerful countenance at all times and give every living creature you meet a smile. To give so much time to the improvement of yourself that you have no time to criticize others. To be too large for worry, too noble for anger, too strong for fear, and too happy to permit the presence of trouble. By Christian D. Larson
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My brothers, if someone is detectedby sin, you who live by the spirit should gently set him right, each of you trying to avoid falling into temptation himself. 2 Help carry one another's burdens; in that way you will fulfill the law of Christ. 3 If anyone thinks he amounts to something, when in fact he is nothing, he is only deceiving himself. 4 Each man should look to his conduct; if he has reason to boast of anything, it will be because the achievement is his and not another's. 5 Everyone should bear his own responsibility. 6 The man instructed in the word should all he has with his instructor. 7 Make no mistake about it, no one makes a fool of God! A man will reap only what he sows. 8 If he sows in in the field of flesh, he will reap a harvest of corruption; but if his seed-ground is the spirit, he will reap everlasting life. 9 Let us not grow weary of doing good; if we do not relax our efforts, in due time we shall reap our harvest. 10 While we have the opportunity, let us do good to all men --- especially those of the house-hold of faith. GALATIANS 6: 1-10 NAB 1970
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The loneliest sound I knowfalls like hail on a tin roof. Each stone leaves its dent. Less permanent: the clattering cacophony of Chicken Little's forecast come true. Once, my sky had fallen; my voice was erased. Now, all I can do is type.
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Thanks Mike,(My personal lament follows yours) When you purse your lips like that does your anus pucker up as well? When you arrogantly deny obvious reality Are worms gnawing holes in your brain? Do you honestly believe we Wouldn't rather have to deal with you? Landlords are the greatest advertisement for collective, communal co-habitation. Thanks again Mike- all credit to you!
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Thanks slo and Anna, but how would I like it to be credited? Two shy of a dozen formicidae, would do it, I'm thinking: By Ten Ants
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the cats don't knowwhat to think about the bats flying mice flickering shadows of night fall the cats sit alert eyes skyward ears rotoring tracking the bats high-pitched clicking flitting ravenously by
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LONE GOOSE The flocks of geese are Headed south Honking and screeching And forming into vees Flying all night alone Now the day breaks But he doent know it, he doesn't rest Or even slow down He's got to get back To his one true love The only one who Knows his sound He calls and calls As he flaps and flaps For he knows she Has many suitors And their bright feathers Might lure her away So the day breaks With a north wind And dense fluffy clouds And he honks her name And flaps and flaps.
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"They are like treesplanted along the riverbank, bearing fruit each season without fail. Their leaves never wither, and in all they do, they prosper." -Psalm I:3 NLT Beautifully did Sunday morning become Sunday Afternoon. The Grateful Dead Hour Rocked the Repeat Function of no.1083. "In the end there's just a song..." "Gonna make em shine..." -Lovelight Intact- ~ sherbear, XO!
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Nice to see you back in the poet's hangout. You've been missed!
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Hey now. Hew now. Hai-ku Hai-ku all day. Joco mo fe no na na Oops. I ran out of syllables. Needed one more. Sucks when that happens.
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My girlfriend left me a prose note today, which I then arranged as lines of verse and added a title: Two Unshooed One fly in here and I swear the door was opened momentarily while carrying the litter out front Second fly in the front house not sure how that one got in
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GOOD HEART A GOOD HEART IS BOTH IMPORTANT AND EFFECTIVE IN DAILY LIFE. IF IN A SMALL FAMILY, EVEN WITHOUT CHILDREN, THE MEMBERS HAVE A WARM HEART FOR EACH OTHER, A PEACEFUL ATMOSPHERE WILL BE CREATED. HOWEVER, IF ONE OF THE PERSONS FEELS ANGRY, IMMEDIATELY THE ATMOSPHERE IN THE HOUSE BECOMES TENSE. DESPITE GOOD FOOD OR A NICE TELEVISION SET, YOU WILL LOSE PEACE AND CALM. THUS THINGS DEPEND MORE ON THE MIND THAN ON THE MATTER. MATTER IS IMPORTANT, WE MUST HAVE IT, WE MUST USE IT PROPERLY BUT IN THIS CENTURY WE MUST COMBINE A GOOD BRAIN WITH A GOOD HEART. H.H. THE XIV TH DALAI LAMA -------------------------------(-----@ Paper produced by hand and is a double dowel scroll with a hand- braided multi-colored string for hanging. Brought to my home from A World Peace Ceremony. Indeed, a wonderful mediation for All, xo.
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THE RIVER IS HERE Down the mountain the river flows, And it brings refreshing wherever it goes, Through the valleys and over the fields The river is rushing, and the river is here. The river of God sets our feet to dancing; The river of God fills our hearts with cheer; The river of God fills our mouths with laughter, And we rejoice for the river is here. By Andy Park
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What do you see while yougaze into a high mountain pool? Do you perceive the reflection of your exquisite Spirit? What do you feel while you tread the mossy carpet of a virgin forest? Do you feel the heartbeat of It's enchanted Sacred Ground? What do you know while you stare in wonder at the dark, stormy skies? Do you then know the forceful Power of the Great Spirit? What do you see? What do you feel? What do you know? May you acknowledge the voice within, and harken to its power and wisdom. -The Dawning Ember
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ParallaxProcessing
I am writing
about writing

capitalized first person singular pronoun
present tense auxiliary-verb progressive aspect verb
preposition gerund

I was writing
about writing and
then I wrote
more about writing

capitalized first person singular pronoun past
tense auxiliary-verb progressive aspect verb
preposition gerund conjunction adverb capitalized
first person singular pronoun past tense verb
adjective preposition gerund

I have written
about writing
and written writings
about those writings

capitalized first person singular pronoun past tense
auxiliary-verb past tense verb preposition gerund
conjunction past tense verb gerund preposition
demonstrative pronoun gerund


You are reading
about reading

capitalized second person plural pronoun
present tense auxiliary-verb progressive aspect verb
preposition gerund

You were reading
about reading and
then you read
more about reading

capitalized second person plural pronoun past
tense auxiliary-verb progressive aspect verb
preposition gerund conjunction adverb second
person plural pronoun past tense verb adjective
preposition gerund

You have read
about reading
and read readings
about those readings

capitalized second person plural pronoun past tense
auxiliary-verb past tense verb preposition gerund
conjunction past tense verb gerund preposition
demonstrative pronoun gerund
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Now I know why I never did well in English! Excellent poem with simmering symmetry!
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Purpose of This Letter This is now, beloved, the second letter I am writing to you in which I am stirring up your sincere mind by way of a reminder, that you should remember the words spoken beforehand by the holy prophets and the command- ment of the Lord and Savior spoken to the apostles. Know this first of all, that in the last days mockers will come with their mocking, following after their own lusts, and saying, "Where is the promise of His coming? For ever since the fathers fell asleep, all continues just as it was from the beginning of creation. For when they maintain this, it escapes their notice that by the word of God the heavens existed long ago and the earth was formed out of water and by water, through which the world was destroyed, being flooded by water. But by His word the present heavens and earth are being reserved for fire, kept for the day of judgement and destruction of ungodly men. But do not let this one fact escape your notice, beloved, that with the Lord one day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years like one day. The Lord is not slow about His promise, as some count slowness, but is patient toward you, not wishing for any to perish but for all to come to repentance. But the day of the Lord will come like a thief, in which the heavens will pass away with a roar and the elements will be destroyed with intense heat, and the earth and its works will be burned up. Since all these things are to be destroyed in this way, what sort of people ought you to be in holy conduct and godliness, looking for and hastening the coming of the day of God, because of which the heavens will be destroyed by burning, and the elements will melt with intense heat! But according to His promise we are looking for new heavens and a new earth, in which righteousness dwells. Therefore, beloved, since you look for these things, be diligent to be found by Him in peace, spotless and blameless, and regard the patience of our Lord as salvation; just as also our beloved brother Paul, according to the wisdom given him, wrote to you, as also in all his letters, speaking in them of these things in which some are hard to understand, which the untaught and unable distort, as they do also the rest of the Scriptures, to their own destruction. You therefore, beloved, knowing this beforehand, be on your guard so that you are not carried away by the error of unprincipled men and fall from your own steadfastness, but grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. To Him be the glory, both now and to the day of, eternity. Amen. -2 PETER 3
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They say that a warren is a networkof interconnecting burrows, like a rabbit hole, hence, Haynes can be seen as a space into which we fall, like Alice tumbling, we watch as the composition of the whole flashes by while revealing its many notable parts, like Tears of a Clown, Norwegian Wood, Eleanor Rigby, Mountain Jam, and so much more as yet to be determined.
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Tend to have more have an intimate relationship with black ice... Stylish, low-profile crampons, anyone?
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A few years ago my wife and I were walking to a theater to see Lou Reed. I slipped on the blackest of black ice, landed square on my back. It hurt, a lot. Other folks -- complete strangers -- walking down the same sidewalk stopped to make sure that I was ok, helped me up, and so on. My wife? Barely able to stand herself...because she was laughing so hard. Apparently it was the funniest thing she's ever seen. She still talks about it. Thanks, sweetheart.
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there once was a band with a websitethat lett people chat all night with millions of topics including philanthropics but a motive of profit started to make it a bad fit and nobody named rhino could change it we're all left to wonder was it an IT blunder or deadhead rhinoids with heads split asunder that was driving their website under in retrospect so simple hire people who can make websites a wonder and stop the product/commercial blunder and you'll sell a shitload of product happily everafter before a bust of Jerry in alabaster plaster
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Unity in the Mystical Body I plead with you, then, as a prisoner for the Lord to live a life worthy of the calling you have received, 2 with perfect humility, meekness, and patience, bearing with one another lovingly. 3 Make every effort to preserve the unity which has the Spirit as its origin and peace as its binding force. 4 There is but one body and one Spirit, just as there is but one hope given all of you by your call. 5 There is one Lord, one faith, one baptism; 6 one God and Father of all, who is over all, and works through all, and is in all. Ephesians 6: 1-6 NAB
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"though my soul may set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light; i have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night" -from her beautiful poem, "the old astronomer"
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God in His infinite wisdom Did not make me very wise- so when my actions are stupid They hardly take God by surprise -langston hughes
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We do not care-That much is clear. Not enough Of us care Anywhere. We are not wise- For that reason Mankind dies. To think Is much against The will. Better- And easier- To kill. -langston hughes' poem "war and wisdom"
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I For the longest while I didn't think I had anything to say. Then, it occurred to me that maybe the problem was there was no one I wanted to say anything to. Now, I'm not so sure, either way, but I'm listening more mindfully, and hearing words yet unspoken, again and again, and with such resounding clarity at times that I am moved to write the thoughts I think I have heard II Part of my reluctance, if you could call it that, to be my own bellringer for the longest while, it was decades if a day, arises from the knowledge, of which I am fairly certain following years of informal field research into the issue, that it has indeed all been said before, and probably said better than my meager poetic means will ever come to muster. I saw no point, then, in being derivative, knowing well that was all I would ever be. III Any self-imposed silence, I knew, would be unoriginal. But I was no Stoic in my having-nothing-to-say, nor would I ever be confused with a silently suffering saint. Even with not a thing to say, I always found injustices to make noise about, if only to draw attention to my plight, which, to my recollective secondary sight looks as unfocused as it was unfounded, but at the time it seemed real and imposing enough for me to raise a serious stink about. IV What gives a bell its tone is not simply the material of which the chime is cast, which, otherwise arranged, would only clank or clang. Rather, it is the void defined by the placement of material wherein emerges the ringing.
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LOVE is patient;live is kind. Love is not jealous or boastful; it is not arrogant or rude. Love does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable- or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrong but rejoices in the right. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things, Love never ends. This is apart of a beautiful picture all set in pink roses in bloom that I had given my Dad long ago that has just came back to me. Sher-ing the love my Dad gave... to me, xo!
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Saved a blue jellybean todayFrom his arch-enemies Acid and enzymes Named him "Puddles" Put a collar on him And together we walked home Puddles has taken to his new Surroundings rather well And the neighbors just adore him But the only thing this Stubborn-ass, blue mule is good at Is "staying" So Puddles and I had a Heart-to-heart And cleared the air And from that gentle session, I learned If I breathe on Puddles just right.....just right He will ever so kindly oblige and "roll over" Awwwwwwwwwwwwww....... Sweet, blue Puddles You're a keeper -sl
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The Unknown Date It's of an uncontrollable time. There...just... to be waiting for Spring (sigh) I've not waited for the lush Earth the buds upon the Maple. I guess- ever, so I hath something new today in the cold. The frozen milky snow to all be drunk and the sweet breeze to dry the rocks and hills. Then on the true greens of the fertile soil the beginning of the end begins again.
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most often what I so dearly miss is that pure loving tender kiss the kind that came out of nowhere.. influenced by purpose the kind that could take a long day of my misery and melt it into a gently flowing stream of something other-worldly the kind that could make me feel like everything here on earth is exactly as everything should be the kind that softly silently profoundly cried out I love you and I care
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Full of mycelliumRichness of blue Comes right on cue.
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sittinghours on end glued to this screen ingesting beautiful poetry from the vault empty fridge laundry piled high blessed assured it's clearly all of you's thoughtful fault
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So beautiful are these writingsI've kept with a vast keeping of black and whites filled with greatness and nothingness- collectively. An excerpt from- THE PILLOW BOOK OF SEI SHONAGON TRANSLATED AND EDITED BY IVAN MORRIS I. In Spring It Is the Dawn In spring it is the dawn that is most beautiful. As the light creeps over the hills, their outlines are dyed a faint red and wisps of purplish cloud trail over them. In summer the nights. Not only when the moon shines, but on dark nights too, as the fireflies flit to and fro, and even when it rains, how beautiful it is! In autumn the evenings, when the glittering sun sinks close to the edge of the hills and the crows fly back to their nests in threes and fours and twos; more charming still is a file of wild geese, like specks in the distant sky. When the sun has set, one's heart is moved by the sound of the wind and the hum of the insects. In winter the early morning. It is beautiful indeed when snow has fallen during the night, but splendid too when the ground is white with frost; or even when there is no snow or frost, but it is simply very cold and the attendants hurry from room to room stirring up the fires and bringing charcoal, how well this fits the season's mood! But as noon approaches and the cold wears off, no one bothers to keep the braziers alight, and soon nothing remains but piles of white ashes. COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY PRESS NEW YORK