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The stubbornness I had as a child has been transmitted into perseverance. I can let go but I don't give up. I don't beat myself up about negative things.

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When a Child Has Been Told

When a child has been told
Never shed a tear

The small child can only
Every bow their head in fear
And hope and pray they
Don't come back to silence them
They often live in fear

They learn not to cry

When a child has been told
Keep a secret

For if they do they will be punished
For telling lies
They bow their head in fear
Hoping they will not
Come back and take their life

They learn not to speak

When a child has been told
Close your eyes

All they can do is tremble
As the touch of evil hands
Slowly destroys their soul
Never to burn again

They learn not to care

When a child has been told
No one really care's

They sit alone and ponder
Will anyone believe?
If I just spoke
If I just shed a tear
Will anyone really care?

They learn not to feel

All I ask of you now
Is let them speak
Let them cry

Because it means they are alive

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Dreams I Had As A Child

Hastily swallowing delicious coffee, my tiara
on my head to play at being a Shadowhunter
before leaving for class, you probably wonder
what a tiara has to do with a series on vampires
and Shadowhunters, my reply is that the culture
espoused by the author, of beautiful shimmery
clothes, Isabelle's evening dress and the wedding
gown on the Internet based on Nephilim fashions,
reflects the dreams I had as a child, wearing wide
Marie Antoinette skirts with a small bodice, so let
me play my games in peace, I am a child at heart
always reacting with wonderment when authors
succeed in reaching a dreamy new universe…

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Nearly None of It Has Been Applied

They were the ones who did not want to know anything.
They chose to be down to Earth.
Not trying to be too involved...
Or considered too concerned.
Not about 'worldly' things,
That is.
There is a comfort supplied in the not knowing of things!

Now they want to know what is going on?
And why things are the way they are.
And when are 'they' going to correct 'their' problems! ?
For them!
The ones who are satisfied in the not knowing of things!

You try to find answers for people like this!
But how can that be done...
When they've dismissed,
All opportunity...
To see things from an adult point of view!
But who knew they had no examples?

And they can not be criticized,
For quoting scriptures they've learned.
But like most things that they have learned...
Nearly none of it has been applied to their lives.

'Those people do that!
We don't do that.'

And all remain as ignorant as possible.
Since that is where they find their comforts!

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New Zealand

An earthquake struck New Zealand's city of Christchurch on Tuesday
Burying vehicles under debris and collapsing buildings into the streets.
Police announced a curfew and city was shut down on Wednesday,
Rescuers scrambled to reach beneath the rubble the residents.

The quake devastating the spire of the Cathedraland is a real tale.
The buildings had collapsed and the people were trapped inside.
All around the city, this powerful earthquake strangely bent some rails, Moreover, it toppled the tall buildings and seventy five people died.

The earthquake combination of distance and depth was so deadly,
Streets were strewn with concrete and people were stuck in towers.
Firefighters climbed ladders to pluck people from roofs to safety.
Buildings have gone because aftershocks hit the city within two hours.

Pre-World War buildings were damaged by the quake on September,
People wandered through streets strewn with debris and concrete.
The further damage was caused by a strong aftershock in December.
Now there is a real carnage with bodies littering the streets..

The women went into premature labor and the city was in agony.
The airport was shut down, in ruins the people began to groan,
Every child has been walking home trying to find the lost family.
The city were suffering cuts to the water supply and the phone.

A thirty million tone block of ice sheared off a glacier of New Zealand
After the earthquake had devastated the city groping it into Dark.
The iceberg crashed into a lake had rocked the South Island
Ripping off the Tasman Glacier at Aoraki Mount Cook National Park.

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When It Has Been Discovered And Decided

If you have found...
That a time spent trying to find yourself,
Has gone.
At least know this...
You are not in a boat,
Rowing without direction alone.
Since many like you...
Have been doing the exact same thing.

And...
Will,
Undoubtedly...
Have a lot to share and talk about,
When it has been discovered and decided...
Expenses can be saved,
By all of you climbing into one boat...
To drift along without any interference.

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Crown

The crown deserves a jewel of pure delight,
Enacting royalty of the highest order.
Fully taught the monarch presides over his palace
And his land of glory, the crown’s holy place.
A holy child has been born. Due to holier work,
The strange men of chivalry travel and flee
To bid them good fortune. Children work as well.
The crown is for the prince to come, the overwhelming,
His highness is a spectacle of the highest delight.

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A Day Is Ending and Nothing Has Been Done

A day is ending
And nothing has been done
It is possible to try and rush
But perhaps it is better to give a day to nothingness
So many days have already been given to nothingness
And perhaps all the days will one day be given to it-

A day is ending
No work has been done
There was time
So much time
And all of it was wasted-

One day into nothing
Perhaps the next day
Fueled by guilt
Will be work for more than one day
Perhaps -

The day is ending
And a poem has been written about the nothingness of this day
A day in which one small poem has been written
And one thing has been done.

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Too Much Has Been Revealed

A renewal of beliefs to review to meet,
Ingredients now fed to eat is much needed.
An obscruity of that which had been valued,
Blocks steps on paved roads now used today.
Updating of standards is more specific than wished.
Too much has been revealed.

Too much has been revealed.

What was 'then' thought and taught as reality,
Has come to cast shadows on that which had existed.

Too much has been revealed.

Overwhelmed are those attempting to restrict themselves,
To lives lived in limitations.

Too much has been revealed.

A transformation is in progress.
And will not cease by those wishing with ease...
To have it swept away in defeat to critique it with ratings.
To place its significance with a label that stays.
Too much...
Has been revealed.

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Your Point Has Been Well Made

No matter who is teleprompted to say it best.
With the aid of computerized corrected text.
There has been a definite downslide in the quality of life.
And less sense is made by those who become offended,
By those who elect to publicly mention this.

No matter who is teleprompted to say it best.
The proof of it witnessed will not be corrected,
Until the people see it is not a focus on a leadership believed.
It is within each individual to awaken from their fantasies,
To face the truth as it is.
With a stopping of a stubborn resistance to it!

'I find your remarks socially unethical and not acceptable.'

~I don't blame you at all.
I am one of the few who has refused to renew,
My season pass to the amusement park.~

'Well...
You allowed that to expire so get off your soapbox.'

~Your point has been well made.~

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The Transparent Man

I'm mighty glad to see you, Mrs. Curtis,
And thank you very kindly for this visit--
Especially now when all the others here
Are having holiday visitors, and I feel
A little conspicuous and in the way.
It's mainly because of Thanksgiving. All these mothers
And wives and husbands gaze at me soulfully
And feel they should break up their box of chocolates
For a donation, or hand me a chunk of fruitcake.
What they don't understand and never guess
Is that it's better for me without a family;
It's a great blessing. Though I mean no harm.
And as for visitors, why, I have you,
All cheerful, brisk and punctual every Sunday,
Like church, even if the aisles smell of phenol.
And you always bring even better gifts than any
On your book-trolley. Though they mean only good,
Families can become a sort of burden.
I've only got my father, and he won't come,
Poor man, because it would be too much for him.
And for me, too, so it's best the way it is.
He knows, you see, that I will predecease him,
Which is hard enough. It would take a callous man
To come and stand around and watch me failing.
(Now don't you fuss; we both know the plain facts.)
But for him it's even harder. He loved my mother.
They say she looked like me; I suppose she may have.
Or rather, as I grew older I came to look
More and more like she must one time have looked,
And so the prospect for my father now
Of losing me is like having to lose her twice.
I know he frets about me. Dr. Frazer
Tells me he phones in every single day,
Hoping that things will take a turn for the better.
But with leukemia things don't improve.
It's like a sort of blizzard in the bloodstream,
A deep, severe, unseasonable winter,
Burying everything. The white blood cells
Multiply crazily and storm around,
Out of control. The chemotherapy
Hasn't helped much, and it makes my hair fall out.
I know I look a sight, but I don't care.
I care about fewer things; I'm more selective.
It's got so I can't even bring myself
To read through any of your books these days.
It's partly weariness, and partly the fact
That I seem not to care much about the endings,
How things work out, or whether they even do.
What I do instead is sit here by this window
And look out at the trees across the way.
You wouldn't think that was much, but let me tell you,
It keeps me quite intent and occupied.
Now all the leaves are down, you can see the spare,
Delicate structures of the sycamores,
The fine articulation of the beeches.
I have sat here for days studying them,
And I have only just begun to see
What it is that they resemble. One by one,
They stand there like magnificent enlargements
Of the vascular system of the human brain.
I see them there like huge discarnate minds,
Lost in their meditative silences.
The trunks, branches and twigs compose the vessels
That feed and nourish vast immortal thoughts.
So I've assigned them names. There, near the path,
Is the great brain of Beethoven, and Kepler
Haunts the wide spaces of that mountain ash.
This view, you see, has become my Hall of Fame,
It came to me one day when I remembered
Mary Beth Finley who used to play with me
When we were girls. One year her parents gave her
A birthday toy called "The Transparent Man."
It was made of plastic, with different colored organs,
And the circulatory system all mapped out
In rivers of red and blue. She'd ask me over
And the two of us would sit and study him
Together, and do a powerful lot of giggling.
I figure he's most likely the only man
Either of us would ever get to know
Intimately, because Mary Beth became
A Sister of Mercy when she was old enough.
She must be thirty-one; she was a year
Older than I, and about four inches taller.
I used to envy both those advantages
Back in those days. Anyway, I was struck
Right from the start by the sea-weed intricacy,
The fine-haired, silken-threaded filiations
That wove, like Belgian lace, throughout the head.
But this last week it seems I have found myself
Looking beyond, or through, individual trees
At the dense, clustered woodland just behind them,
Where those great, nameless crowds patiently stand.
It's become a sort of complex, ultimate puzzle
And keeps me fascinated. My eyes are twenty-twenty,
Or used to be, but of course I can't unravel
The tousled snarl of intersecting limbs,
That mackled, cinder grayness. It's a riddle
Beyond the eye's solution. Impenetrable.
If there is order in all that anarchy
Of granite mezzotint, that wilderness,
It takes a better eye than mine to see it.
It set me on to wondering how to deal
With such a thickness of particulars,
Deal with it faithfully, you understand,
Without blurring the issue. Of course I know
That within a month the sleeving snows will come
With cold, selective emphases, with massings
And arbitrary contrasts, rendering things
Deceptively simple, thickening the twigs
To frosty veins, bestowing epaulets
And decorations on every birch and aspen.
And the eye, self-satisfied, will be misled,
Thinking the puzzle solved, supposing at last
It can look forth and comprehend the world.
That's when you have to really watch yourself.
So I hope that you won't think me plain ungrateful
For not selecting one of your fine books,
And I take it very kindly that you came
And sat here and let me rattle on this way.

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Climbing is unadulterated hard labor. The only real pleasure is the satisfaction of going where no man has been before and where few can follow.

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By This Kind of Burning

The core of my being
Animates with heated truth.
It does not stay ignited to offend.
But then...
Neither will it suffocate,
From smoke screens placed...
To shield it from an occasional agitated blaze!
So many have rushed in panic to squelch these sparks.
Once raging now they flicker.
But it doesn't keep the winds that come,
From spreading what has been simmering...
Into flames that captivate and hypnotize,
Those mesmerized by this kind of burning.

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It Shouldn't Amaze, Phase Or Daze One Bit

It shouldn't amaze, phase or daze one bit,
That those who create evil images...
Are the very ones themselves afraid.
And doing their best to upset others,
By portraying themselves...
As those self righteous and the ones to trust.

It shouldn't amaze, phase or daze one bit,
That those who create evil images...
Are the very ones themselves afraid.
They hold onto beliefs,
Embellished by deceit.
And exposed they are observed...
To be the causes of denying truth to breathe.

It shouldn't amaze, phase or daze one bit,
That those who create evil images...
Are the very ones themselves afraid.
And doing their best to upset others,
By portraying themselves...
As those self righteous and the ones to trust.
And this trust has been crushed into dust!

It shouldn't amaze, phase or daze one bit,
But it does to those...
Who chose to ignore all the signs of it.

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Sister Blister

You and me were cut from the same cloth
It seems to some we famously get along
But you and me are strangers to each other
Cuz you and me: competitive to the bone
Such tragedy to trample on each other with how much weve endured
With the state this land is in
You and me feel joined only by gender
We are not all for one and one for all
Sister blister we fight to please the brothers
We think their acceptance is how we win
Theyre happy were climbing over each other
To beg the club of boys to let us in
You and me estranged from the mother
You and me have felt impotent in our skin
You and me have taken it out on each other
You and me disloyal to the feminine
Such a pity to disavow each other with how far weve come
With how strong weve been
You and me are on this pendulum together
You and me with scarcity still fueling
Sister blister we fight to please the brothers
We think their acceptance is how we win
Theyre happy were climbing over each other
To beg the club of boys to let us in
We may not have priorities same
We may not even like each other
We may not be hugely anti-men
But such a cost to dishonor a sister
You and me have made it harder for the other
We forget how hard separatism has been
You and me we can help change their minds together
You and me in alignment until the end
Sister blister we fight to please the brothers
We think their acceptance is how we win
Theyre happy were climbing over each other
To beg the club of boys to let us in

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Signs Of Love

You walked into the room last night
Like a song on the wind
And I sensed a new beginning
The way the light had caught your hair
I couldn't help but stare
And I could tell what you were thinking
Maybe I'm high but I don't get high anymore
Not 'til you come through the door
The the room starts spinning and my hands begin to sweat
The words I've been rehearsing are so easy to forget
Falling like a stone flying like a jet
And I'm losin' control losin' control.
Chorus:
It's the signs of love
It's the signs of love
It's the signs of love
And I got it bad
I been hangin' out on your street
Just hoping for the chance to meet ya
As if I'd know waht to say if I did
But luck you come on by
I see that look in your eye
And I can tell what you're thinkin'
Maybe I'm high
But I don't get high anymore
Not 'til you come through the door
Chorus:
Send me a message tell me what to do
You can be honest but please don't be cruel babe
Send me a message tell me what to say
I got it bad yea I got it bad
Send me a message tell me what to do
You can be honest but please don't be cruel
There's only so much I can play the fool
And I'm losin' control losin' control
Chorus:
Send me a message tell me what to do
You can be honest but please don't be cruel babe
Send me a message tell me what to say
Let's get together please don't run away
It's the signs
Send me a message, Send me a message, Send me a message
Maybe I'm high let's get together
It's the signs, It's the signs, It's the signs

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War has been good to me from a financial standpoint but I don't want to make money that way. I don't want blood money.

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It Has Been So Long / Since I Had A Poem Of The Morning

It has been so long
Since I had a poem of the morning,
So many small deeds and interruptions,
So much exhausting summer heat
So many distractions of errands
And vanities of wasted time
But now at last
Morning again
Light again
Cool Breezes again
Life again
Oh how I live for these beginnings of each day
which make the whole worthwhile.

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The Prayer Of So Many Years Has Been Answered

The prayer of so many years has been answered-
Both of my children have children of their own-
Have good spouses-
I thank God without knowing how to adequately thank G-d-
There has been so much blessing in my life –
I thank God and pray for the health and well- being
Of the child that has been born.

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The Love I Had

The love I had for you
Has never gone cold
Even though we have grown old
Time has taken you away
To a different life and a part in the play
Someday we may meet somewhere
When all the years will disappear
May be thats when it will start to grow
The love that was planted many years ago
Coming to life so all will see
That love never dies
Unless you want to be.

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The Boy Who Had Buck Teeth

The other boys taunted and jeered at the boy with buck teeth
And they called him rude names as he walked down the street
But the boy with buck teeth is a winner today
Those who laugh last laugh loudest some are known to say
The reason for his success not hard to explain
The boy who had buck teeth has a marvelous brain
Their taunts only fueled his desire to succeed
Of his many successes we hear of and read
The boy who had buck teeth is lauded far and wide
His praises sung far from his home country-side
And those who laughed at him seem ordinary indeed
Their journeys in life to success did not lead
The masses out there they did not impress
But the one they once taunted is a huge success.

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