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how do you feel right now?
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China
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Dialing 1-800-Manbird
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What the hell OV?
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Israel
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Song of the Day
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• • • The Once-a-Day • • •
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Science is bullsh*t
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NASA & other news from space
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Artificial Intelligence
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Human Rights (Can Science Point The Way)
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Radio Paradise Comments
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Play the Blues
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Music library
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Animal Resistance
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Fascism In America
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punk? hip-hop? metal? noise? garage?
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What can you hear right now?
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Bad Poetry
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See This Film
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Trump
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Those Lovable Policemen
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The All-Things Beatles Forum
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Poetry Forum
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Beer
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It's the economy stupid.
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Oh dear god, BEES!
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The 1960s
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Name My Band
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Marko Haavisto & Poutahaukat
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Living in America
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Democratic Party
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RP on HomePod mini
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Interesting Words
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Guns
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Spambags on RP
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Suggestion for new RP Channel: Modern / Family
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Gaming, Shopping, and More? Samsung's Metaverse Plans for...
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SLOVENIA
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Reviews and Pix from your concerts and shows you couldn't...
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Eclectic Sound-Drops
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Index »
Entertainment »
Books »
Bad Poetry
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Page: Previous 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 ... 61, 62, 63 Next |
ScottFromWyoming
Location: Powell Gender:
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Posted:
May 20, 2018 - 1:50pm |
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NoEnzLefttoSplit
Gender:
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Posted:
Feb 22, 2018 - 9:04am |
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The first time I saw you you were a jellyfish on the beach all soft and exposed and out of your element with a whiff of decay and a hint of poison
I poked my stick at your tentacles watched them quiver in the wind and thought of the fish they once held
and thought that's not my world
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SeriousLee
Location: Dans l'milieu d'deux milles livres
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Posted:
Feb 21, 2018 - 2:32pm |
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oldviolin wrote:...but I am not the rain I am the smooth red clay molded into an imperfect pot With perfect cracks that leak the soil Back into the love saturated earth That filters and perfectly renders the Ancient foundation beneath and around The stones which embrace the skull at the foot of the cross and I am the tides and the moon and I am the son of shadows casting In the bright glare of the sun And breathless golden slumbers I wear dark clouds over my shoulders Until the rain is so heavy That it drapes over my entire world And my teary reunion with hope For deliverance from the cold
And warming the sun Married the flowers To earth the clay To stones the time And colors the wind All for one and over Again children Come up and bloom Again
Now and then, my mortality comes into focus.
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oldviolin
Location: esse quam videri Gender:
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Posted:
Feb 21, 2018 - 7:13am |
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...but I am not the rain I am the smooth red clay molded into an imperfect pot With perfect cracks that leak the soil Back into the love saturated earth That filters and perfectly renders the Ancient foundation beneath and around The stones which embrace the skull at the foot of the cross and I am the tides and the moon and I am the son of shadows casting In the bright glare of the sun And breathless golden slumbers I wear dark clouds over my shoulders Until the rain is so heavy That it drapes over my entire world And my teary reunion with hope For deliverance from the cold
And warming the sun Married the flowers To earth the clay To stones the time And colors the wind All for one and over Again children Come up and bloom Again
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oldviolin
Location: esse quam videri Gender:
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Posted:
Nov 17, 2017 - 9:38am |
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Antigone wrote: aw c'mon you guys...
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Antigone
Location: A house, in a Virginian Valley Gender:
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Posted:
Nov 17, 2017 - 7:50am |
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miamizsun wrote:that's so bad it's good wait, it's much worse than that, it's great
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miamizsun
Location: (3283.1 Miles SE of RP) Gender:
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Posted:
Nov 16, 2017 - 6:49pm |
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oldviolin wrote:Bad Poetry Sells Itself
I saw you looking Now look at you sawing Cutting off your nose In spite of what you face Thinking that the hole in the floor Will lead to open space
I see you smiling Safety in numbers under corpses piling Cadaverous caverns wind over and through That hole in the carpet is obviously new Escape will not go undetected Chances be acts of courage
I'm at the door now, may I sell you the word? Perhaps that motor whining is not what you heard Watch closely now and do remain alert Vacuum and bag even microscopic dirt Surely such innovation sells itself An offer you can't refuse
Next your sofa cushion is in the bag Don't look away now the magic won't drag Watch as it becomes an embodied wafer The seat in this feat will make you feel safer Be so kind as to sell your secrets And buy my considerable connections
Now death is oh so fascinating We can market this thing from cradle to grave Clean up on isle three! Buy now and save! How do you be, and your family? Even in dying you're still a slave Simple as it never was that's so bad it's good wait, it's much worse than that, it's great
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oldviolin
Location: esse quam videri Gender:
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Posted:
Nov 16, 2017 - 9:16am |
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Bad Poetry Sells Itself
I saw you looking Now look at you sawing Cutting off your nose In spite of what you face Thinking that the hole in the floor Will lead to open space
I see you smiling Safety in numbers under corpses piling Cadaverous caverns wind over and through That hole in the carpet is obviously new Escape will not go undetected Chances be acts of courage
I'm at the door now, may I sell you the word? Perhaps that motor whining is not what you heard Watch closely now and do remain alert Vacuum and bag even microscopic dirt Surely such innovation sells itself An offer you can't refuse
Next your sofa cushion is in the bag Don't look away now the magic won't drag Watch as it becomes an embodied wafer The seat in this feat will make you feel safer Be so kind as to sell your secrets And buy my considerable connections
Now death is oh so fascinating We can market this thing from cradle to grave Clean up on isle three! Buy now and save! How do you be, and your family? Even in dying you're still a slave Simple as it never was
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oldviolin
Location: esse quam videri Gender:
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Posted:
Nov 16, 2017 - 9:01am |
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Good night all you pilgrims. All you words. All you laughs, and all you tears. Good night you mysteries. With your Avatars. With your reaches for stars. All you devotional purses and pockets. Buttoned and clasped and furrowed... Good night all. Meet me tomorrow in Paradise. And dream another day into the blue. Good night. Sleep tight. Midnight calls for a snooze. I am glad you all came today. Remember our friends in sorrow and need. Good night.
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oldviolin
Location: esse quam videri Gender:
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Posted:
Oct 30, 2017 - 10:43am |
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More scars than there are spaces Some leavened, some risen... More candles lit in darkest places Catchers catching light the heart has bidden...
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SeriousLee
Location: Dans l'milieu d'deux milles livres
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Posted:
Oct 29, 2017 - 8:19am |
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Will the sun come up When i go down Will my smile be A beaten frown A child's cry A piercing sound An outstretched hand A beggar's want The look of love My heart's daunt
I'd rather live alone But then again Can i trust my demons More than friends
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ScottN
Location: Half inch above the K/T boundary Gender:
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Posted:
Oct 22, 2017 - 11:21am |
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SECRETS
Secrets infesting my half-sleep... did you enter my wound from another wound brushing mine in a crowd... or did I snare you on my sharper edges as a bird flying through cobwebbed trees at sun-up carries off spiders on its wings?
Secrets, running over my soul without sound, only when dawn comes tip-toeing ushered by a suave wind, and dreams disintegrate like breath shapes in frosty air, I shall overhear you, bare-foot, scatting off into the darkness... I shall know you, secrets by the litter you have left and by your bloody foot-prints.
Lola Ridge
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ScottN
Location: Half inch above the K/T boundary Gender:
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Posted:
Oct 22, 2017 - 10:29am |
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oldviolin wrote:From deep within, a notion of dissonance a timbre qualm a parched motif salty drops of rain to quench the latent ego floundering like a flat fish on rocky bottom the beady eye of reason squandered pearl of worldly sight Mother of daylight, Father of night...
All righty, then...
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oldviolin
Location: esse quam videri Gender:
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Posted:
Oct 22, 2017 - 10:18am |
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From deep within, a notion of dissonance a timbre qualm a parched motif salty drops of rain to quench the latent ego floundering like a flat fish on rocky bottom the beady eye of reason squandered pearl of worldly sight Mother of daylight, Father of night...
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oldviolin
Location: esse quam videri Gender:
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Posted:
Oct 18, 2017 - 8:38am |
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One dark night on a dusty dirt road I saw a tall cross burn I saw hooded figures huddle and chant and raise their torches as if the light was anything but tears in white fabric Anything but tears running down black faces peering through ramshackle windows Everything except mercy in the red dirt field between meaning and melody I heard music in my soul when some years later A charred splinter post empty of fire and meaning stood sentinel Guarding the red mud where hatred made it's perfect stand And a boy parred the light from darkness...
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oldviolin
Location: esse quam videri Gender:
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Posted:
Oct 18, 2017 - 8:27am |
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Tender and meek her gaze At once at one with the approaching night Little did love convince her Burnished, a reflection in setting sunlight Golden and fleeting
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oldviolin
Location: esse quam videri Gender:
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Posted:
Oct 12, 2017 - 8:04am |
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Breakfast Lunch Diner Sorry, no checks
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Proclivities
Location: Paris of the Piedmont Gender:
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Posted:
Oct 12, 2017 - 7:59am |
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oldviolin
Location: esse quam videri Gender:
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Posted:
Oct 10, 2017 - 8:29am |
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For every bullet, a bomb For every bomb, a beast
For every bruise; a purple skinned child Less the last; but not the least
We beseech thee Lord, our better selves stead Compass out hearts, deliver our dead
Breathe your design through torn counter weaves Harvest our hearts; deliver our sheaves
Red and yellow and black and white For they are kindred in your far sight
Then leave us to our sins, our evil nether Those scorn filled winds and common tether
If lasts these few days when time stands still Bring love at last, against our will
Yet profit us through the cold hard night Feast on our fears, and bind our flight
Lest the dawn come too late to release The path of shame, the dove of peace
Amen
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oldviolin
Location: esse quam videri Gender:
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Posted:
Sep 25, 2017 - 6:56am |
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The voices my ears Construct from musical winds Whispering my soul
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