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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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  • free idea
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    Everybody has their God
    Everybody has their GodWhether or not they are able to see When the drunk rolls over in the morning And one hand reaches for the paper bag And the other hand is unscrewing the top That's his God that he is turning to When the hard working counter person Runs out back during their break And fumbles in the winter wind To light one up, that is their chosen One Wherever we turn for what we think we need That is what we have made our God over us controlling us When the trumpet sounds We will have to walk that way Following what we have chosen In trying to choose That which remains unseen I will need to know What other gods have I Put before thee? In my time of trouble Where will I turn? If my matter money is in one Outstretched hand, and my spiritual money is in the other, If you reach out to take it, Which hand will I pull back fastest? Which is more precious to me, That which blooms fades and dies Or that which remains as The seed of thought The originator of ideas Be my God Forever in peace
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    I Can't Stand the Rain (lyrics)
    I Can't Stand the Rain (lyrics) (D. Bryant, A. Peebles, B. Miller) [Chorus 1] I can't stand the rain, against my window Bringing back, sweet memories I can't stand the rain, against my window Cause he ain't here with me Hey window pane Tell me, do you remember? How sweet it used to be When we were together Everything was so grand Now that we parted There's just one sound That I just can't stand [Chorus 1] I can't stand the rain, against my window Bringing back, sweet memories I can't stand the rain, against my window Cause he ain't here with me When we were together Everything was so grand Now that we parted There's just one thing That I just can't stand I can't stand the rain (I can't stand the rain, I can't stand the rain) [Chorus 1] I can't stand the rain, against my window Bringing back, sweet memories I can't stand the rain, against my window Cause he ain't here with me When we were together Everything was so grand Yeah… I know you’ve got some sweet memories But there's one sound That I just can't stand [Chorus 2] I can't stand the rain, against my window Bringing back, sweet memories I can't stand the rain, against my window It just keeps on hunting me [Chorus 3] Hey, hey rain - get off, of my window Cause he ain't here with me And I can't stand the rain, against my window Bringing back, sweet memories
  • erickat
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    one more from 30 years ago
    this one, i actually put to music - it's memories of growing up on a farm where my brother & i would play in the woods & fields - and huge clouds of blackbirds would fly through - and we'd chase the leaves as they fell from the trees & float pieces of wood in the streams & pretend they were boats with explorers in a strange land Time was slow and flowers grew in sunny fields where blackbirds flew The sun was high, the clouds were soft The stones were piled and covered in moss The trees were tall, their leaves were green and floated in fall like ships in streams and flew like birds on windy days on fire with colors of fading sun rays.
  • erickat
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    This is not Dead related, although my dad is dead
    This is something I wrote in my teens (over 30 years ago) - sort of about my Dad, who used to plow the fields with an old Massey Fergesson tractor. I labeled this "the plowman" It's kind of cliche, but it captures the feelings I had at the time. - sort of about growing old & seasons changing from summer to winter & preparing for death. The Sun Set In Fiery Glow. No Voice Upon the Hearth Was Heard. The Wind Was Still As If though The Silent Echo Was Not Enough, The Plowman's Sturdy Tractor Purred. The Day Was Turning, As Had Done The Sod Beneath The Sharpened Blade. The Moon to Follow Soon The Sun As Night Closed In Upon The Glade. Time,As If In Seconds Told Will Never Forget The Days Gone by. Each Sunday Morning Bell That Tolls Shall Ring For Either You or I. And as The Days Grow Shorter Now, The Plowmen Plod Their Way Back Home. And Winter Winds Behind Them Howl, Still, In The Distance Light Is Shown. The Tools Are Hung, The Tractor Stowed The Sheep And Cattle Already Fed. The Wagon Emptied of Its Load. As the Plowman prepares His Winter Bed. No Voice Upon The Hearth Was Heard. The Wind Was Sharp and Chilling Cold. Of the Sturdy Walls He Was Reassured For As Himself, They Too Were Old.
  • stuman
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    Tripping in my sleep
    Trippin in my head The dreams are vivid in my head Sometimes I wake full of dread Why are these visions in my head I`ve met Axle, Slash and Ted Even Begley was in my head Along with Joey Romone smokin a fat bone Then I wake all alone where did my mind decide to roam My brain feels like a peice of styrofoam Just empty and all alone
  • free idea
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    They all get along
    Flying away nowThe shoreline recedes Did I bite off more than I can chew It's too late now To turn back Or even to look down You're supercharged High over Main Headed straight For the bulls-eye Which looks like a tiny dot But it's growing You chose this path No one set your feet upon it But you, you better own it now Play it like you mean it And when you sing, Sing to the angels in Heaven I used to wander a short distance From my house as a kid And through the field And through the woods I would come upon a tent White canvas staked out With big ropes and wooden stakes I would get down on my hands and knees And pick up the bottom of that tent And crawl inside to see my friends I just knew them as my friends I didn't think anything of their glow Or the white robes they wore They were kind when the world was mean They smiled gently towards me, And continued on in their conversations Ignoring me, and giving me free rein To eat at the buffet table Which lengthwise lay I would feast myself and drink From their goblets and Listen to the words they said At the end of the day I would walk back home Through the woods Through the field Over the stone wall To my house and go inside My mom would say Did you do anything fun today? And I would shrug and say No, mom, and go upstairs To play with my little metal Mechanics garage and little metal cars Which is the best they could do for fun outside of that tent, I guess. Now I walk in the front door of the tent Though sometimes I still sneak under Just to make them all laugh They are all still there talking Jesus Siddharta Elijah Mohammed And all the other saints risen glowing They all get along fine Through all eternity So I can see no reason Why shouldn't we?
  • starsleeper
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    Deadicated to Deadnet...
    5-7-9Words and music by: BHHamilton Angel of Love When I'm lost You turn me 'round You pick me up when I have fallen to the ground You dry my tears When I cry And I see Heaven when you look into my eyes You're my Angel of Love You're my Angel of Love You're my Angel of Love I need my Angel of Love And everyday You're by my side And when my vision dims in you I can confide Through the rapids With you I'm calm You give me strength and hope so I can carry on You're my Angel of Love You're my Angel of Love You're my Angel of Love Come to me Angel of Love
  • free idea
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    I Melt Away
    I can still hear What you have to say Although your voice is Slightly fading While inside I melt away Slipped away on the breeze Heard the rustling leaves call out to me And I melt away Like candle wax In the flame And everything is The way it's always been Music takes you there Like ice in the Springtime sun Why let kids Have all the fun I'm here, then I'm gone I melt away Like a song in the wind I melt away But I know it's gonna be be a good old day When I get up and Melt away.
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    Attics of my Life
    Attics of my Life Lyrics By: Robert Hunter In the attics of my life, full of cloudy dreams unreal. Full of tastes no tongue can know, and lights no eyes can see. When there was no ear to hear, you sang to me. I have spent my life seeking all that's still unsung. Bent my ear to hear the tune, and closed my eyes to see. When there was no strings to play, you played to me. In the book of love's own dream, where all the print is blood. Where all the pages are my days, and all the lights grow old. When I had no wings to fly, you flew to me, you flew to me. In the secret space of dreams, where I dreaming lay amazed. When the secrets all are told, and the petals all unfold. When there was no dream of mine, you dreamed of me.
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    I Just Want To Celebrate (Rare Earth)
    Rare Earth: I Just Want To CelebrateSongwriters: King, H., Shayne, S. I just want to celebrate another day of livin' I just want to celebrate another day of life I put my faith in the people But the people let me down So I turned the other way And I carry on, anyhow That's why I'm telling you I just want to celebrate, yeah, yeah I just want to celebrate, yeah, yeah Another day of living, I just want to celebrate another day of life Had my hand on the dollar bill And the dollar bill blew away But the sun is shining down on me And it's here to stay That's why I'm telling you I just want to celebrate, yeah, yeah Another day of living, yeah I just want to celebrate another day of living I just want to celebrate another day of life Don't let it all get you down, Don't let it turn you around and around And around and around Well, I can't be bothered with sorrow And I can't be bothered with hate, no, no I'm using up my time by feeling fine, every day That's why I'm telling you I just want to celebrate Aw, yeah I just want to celebrate yeah yeah Another day of living, yeah yeah I just want to celebrate another day of livin', yeah I just want to celebrate another day of life Don't let it all get you down, no, no Don't let it turn you around and around, And around and around, and around Around round round 'round and around round round round don't go 'round
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By suggestion, a place for the poets among us to post their words.
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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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17 years 5 months
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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