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America, So Beautiful.

Why is America the beautiful,
So beautiful?
It's because of German Polkas, and beer.
It's because of Irish corned beef, and potatoes.
It's because of French wines, and escargot.
It's because of soul food, from the hood,
The kind you find in Big Momma's,
In Cathedral City California.
It's because of Mexican food,
And the Mariachi's that accompany it.
It's because of the Hawaiian Poi,
And the Alaskan, fish ice cream.
It's because of the Italian Operas,
And spaghetti and meat balls.
It's because of the English language,
Brought to America,
By the subjects of the king.
America is blue eyes,
America is green eyes,
America is black eyes,
America is brown eyes,
America is blond hair,
America is red hair,
America is black hair,
And my all time favorite,
America is brown hair.
America is Japanese sushi,
America is Chinese hot and spicy soup.
America is mountains,
Beautiful snow covered mountains,
Shining in the sun.
America is deserts,
Hot arid and unforgiving,
And filled with life.
America is forests,
That extend,
'From sea to shining sea.'
America is ingenuity,
Great minds, from all over the world,
Reach their great fruition,
In America.
Where they are free.
Why is America the beautiful,
So beautiful?
It's because America is a rainbow,
Red, white, black, yellow, brown,
And all the myriads of colors,
These main colors produce.
It's so cliche to say,
We are a melting pot.
I prefer to say, What the great Bill Murray said.
'We are a mongrel race.'
Yet nothing on God's green Earth,
Is more loyal, more faithful, more loving,
And more devoted,
Than the mongrel.
America the beautiful.

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The Love of the English Language

The love of the English language
Brings us about a lot of advantages.
Using it, we click through to get to
Other peers, family, friends so dear!

It opens before our eyes
Wide highways of knowledge
Crammed with innovative
Sources, resources, links
To linguists, educators, teachers,
Broadcasters, poets and writers.

This language for me means work,
Company, melody, sweet memory,
Motivation, journey, inspiration,
A beacon of real understanding
Towards every nation!

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Emily Dickinson

Many a phrase has the English language

276

Many a phrase has the English language
I have heard but one—
Low as the laughter of the Cricket,
Loud, as the Thunder's Tongue—

Murmuring, like old Caspian Choirs,
When the Tide's a' lull—
Saying itself in new infection—
Like a Whippoorwill—

Breaking in bright Orthography
On my simple sleep—
Thundering its Prospective—
Till I stir, and weep—

Not for the Sorrow, done me—
But the push of Joy—
Say it again, Saxton!
Hush—Only to me!

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Beautiful Blue Eyes

Blue eyes so full of life
A wonder all of their own
So beautiful and precious
Oh to see those eyes smile
Such a beautiful sight
How I love to look into those eyes
When I look into them
A kind of peace comes over me
Beautiful blue eyes
Always haunting me
...teasing me
Reminding me of what I want...can't have
Why do they haunt me so
When will I be free of them
Constantly held captive by those blue eyes
Beautiful blue eyes
Always there
A reminder of what I want...can't have
Such beautiful blue eyes
Beautiful blue eyes...

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Hoarse Red-tailed Horse.....[Short; English Language; Humor; Fantasy]

Perhaps you've read the tale of the red-tailed horse
who, after she ate eight bowls of ice cream, felt no remorse.
That night, feet uncovered, she slept on her couch (no small feat!) .
Like an arctic tern she did toss and turn, in her room with no heat.

Next morning in her room at the inn, she was hoarse and sore.
Not feeling hale, with hail falling on the moor, she vowed to eat ice cream no more.
Through her mind went 'flu'. Then (like birds flew) the 'flu' idea she threw.
For four hours she gargled, and sipped warm soup. In due time the hail melted and looked like dew.

She still could not bear bare feet. But two pairs of pears she did eat.
In time she ate squash with thyme, did not whine, had wine and some meat.
From her porch she blew a kiss to a hare with blue hair. She swatted a fly.
The next day she would dye her tail green. She was glad she did not die.

(3-31-2010)

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English Language

The English language it contains thousands of words
Which includes nouns, adjectives, constants and verbs
Structuring them together to create novels or speeches
So we can speak or read or listen while a teacher teaches
And of those thousands words that we have at our command
Some are the few words that decent people have banned
Sadly those few words most people use to swear and to curse
They are crude, coarse and obscene which are used alone or in a verse.

The English language contains thousands of words
Which equals to the stars in the sky or the multitude of birds
They are used in conversation and to define who we are
Words are the building blocks from a vast reservoir
But then we have those few words that are very crude
People use them to hurt or to insult and also to be lewd
Judge a book by its cover and the people by the words they use
When we speak, speak with caution and ponder and then be a muse.


Randy L. McClave

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English Language Bastardized

Isn’t it unfortunate how
the English language is bastardized
to suit someone’s twisted mind?
How good words cannot be used
in their proper context
without someone looking strangely
and giving a stupid grin.
Years ago, when I was at school
a beaver was a small animal with a flat tail
that lived in water and built dams.
Now most kids know its meaning as
describing a woman’s gentiles.
In England, we sometimes have faggots for tea
and again this had been corrupted from
food you eat to describing someone’s sexual gender.
Gay is another word that is taboo.
You will get strange looks if you used it in its proper context.
If I wrote a title forty years ago, I was gay
everyone knew that I was feeling happy
and not what it means today.
The list of bastardized words go on and on
and I wonder what the next word from our dictionaries
that will enter that no go area of words we cannot use,
being bastardized to suit some one’s twisted mind.


11 October 2009

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The Ice-Cream

Lollipops connect to make new creams,
I have certainty that the path may beckon,
And life sorts out the trails and tracks
Of my former life.

Ice cream resides in the head, often enough
Apt and deliberately the show has responded;
My living created a bear of the other hidden factors
Much progressed and as of now.

Why does it sit and spin new agenda?
In his claws we see erect a barrier of the language
One sings to the time of prophetic understanding,
They are men of learning and wisdom as well.

I possess the gifts one swallows for the ends of the relics,
Meanings are simply pitiful when highlighted,
As the meaning of the living has a square
After the name of the family.

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Girls that we do not discuss

One day at the hotel 224,
a beautiful girl crossed
the street to talk to me
and her words “how’s it
still stays with me.

You can find girls on street corners
and you can find girls
who stay away from the streets,
and live in palaces
and act without any concern
to morality

When I see a beautiful woman
driving past in a slk,
I wonder from where
her money comes.

a Young girl
that sits in a buss shed
in Wessels Street
and enjoys an ice-cream
and throws an inviting look
still watches me.

When you are newly divorced
and get better treatment
from a girl of passions
than from a head doctor
you are surely
not free from sin and remorse.

Still I know that these girls
are humans, like any other person
and at times go to church
and sometimes pray for themselves
and they also have feelings
of pain and are glad at times
and live secret lives.

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Exciting Ice Cream

Yummy ice cream
in a chocolate dipped cone
oh so scrumptious

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Memories Of Ice Cream

I love to eat an ice cream cone
and feel it dribble on my chin.
It makes me feel like a kid again,
never worrying about sticky skin

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Ice Cream

to be with each other
closer than before

we take turns licking
the ice cream
on the cone, then,

after the taste of vanilla
we savor what sweetness
is still left
in each other's tongue.

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Music is like ice cream

Music is like ice cream
there are so many kind of flavors
From original taste, to the weird one
From single scoop, to lot of toppings
In hot weather, in cold day
In happy time, or sad moment
Whether soft, sweet and melting down
Whether hard as rocks and thrill your soul
Everybody who likes it
Always says, “Cool! ”

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The Ice Cream Man

He roams around schools with his rocky bicycle
And he rings the bell but nobody turns,
The whole World seems to be angry with him.
Swine Flu brings the catastrophe to his small business
And his tears mix with the melting ice cream.
Ice cream Man is nowhere and the rumor goes around
The Flu has taken him to a kind World.

*[ eyes green as leaves
yet, closed now, like a flower
the life gone from them.]
-Katerina Papadopoulos-

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Ice Cream Hair

My mom's hair is made of Chocolate Ice Cream.
My dad's hair is made of Mint Ice Cream.
My sister's hair is made of Vanilla Ice Cream.
My halve sister's hair is made of Strawberry Ice Cream.
My brother's hair is made of Coconut Ice Cream.
My halve brother's hair is made of Blue Berry Ice Cream.
My baby sister's hair is made of Banana Split Ice Cream.
What is my hair made out of?
All of the above,

and a hint of sprinkles; -) .

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That Melted Ice-Cream...

I saw her eyes,
That day,
Deep,
Drowning in emotions,
Darling,
I can't forget those days,
When we walked hand in hand,
Those days,
Gloomed in overcast love,
The days,
When we completed each other,
And now,
All is gone,
Why?
Did my love felt short?
That day,
We met for the last time,
That ice-cream that we purchased,
Which melted,
Like we did in tears,
Thank You
I will live with these memories,
You be happy…

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Night

Night is a wounded sea
Wolves of golden waves
My ice lover with yellow roses
You are the glow of Norway
You are the snow of seagulls
Walk with me in Walden
Cry with me in Scotland
I am the Irish tide
The moon of pain
Tempt me again

Night is the earth
Swirling stars come again
Lawn chairs in the back yard
Pie and ice cream
Clouds in the swaggering dusk
Children in a hayloft
Sailboats with masts of hope
My memories of burning fall leaves
Tonight you are joy
Sometimes night is the soul free

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The Zen of Ice Cream

Ice cream joins thinkers, twirls idea seekers
Around dueling dogmas, mythic epics
Dark philosophies, enchanting stories
Cover ivory vanilla towers
Metaphors for discourse strong, dense and sweet
Arguers desire hasty retreats
Scowling to smiling as trials melt away
Nuts suggest curses swept away verses
Tempting chocolate, strawberry compote
Ode to decadence, shameless opulence
Suggested by sprinkled cherry topping
Subversive banter atop frozen cream
Illusive reality never dreams
No suffering while eating frozen cream

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Hot Chocolate And Ice-Cream

My positive book says I’m free
and empowered, decided to test
their theory by ordering hot chocolate
and ice-cream, dipping the ice-cream
in the hot chocolate mixture – now the
cold doesn’t hurt my teeth; the liquid
is cooling down rapidly

Definitely makes me feel empowered,
free to create anything – though restaurant
food taste of rubber and plastic, I’m free not
to eat it – when hunger makes eating inevitable,
I simply fill up on ice-cream and chocolate;
I agree with their theory: I am
an empowered being!

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Wallace Stevens

The Emperor Of Ice-Cream

Call the roller of big cigars,
The muscular one, and bid him whip
In kitchen cups concupiscent curds.
Let the wenches dawdle in such dress
As they are used to wear, and let the boys
Bring flowers in last month's newspapers.
Let be be finale of seem.
The only emperor is the emperor of ice-cream.

Take from the dresser of deal.
Lacking the three glass knobs, that sheet
On which she embroidered fantails once
And spread it so as to cover her face.
If her horny feet protrude, they come
To show how cold she is, and dumb.
Let the lamp affix its beam.
The only emperor is the emperor of ice-cream.

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Ice Cream Van

That ice cream van.
Ringing bells
Of a distant childhood.
As there we stood.
In the queue of innocence.
Waiting for our cones.
Trading only smiles
And just a few pence.
Clones,
Rebels without a cause,
Throwing stones
And knocking doors.
Only to run
With the sun
To safer shores
Of reverie.
Drivers of trains.
Drifters of plains.
Dreams.
So cleverly,
We all would fulfil.
Schemes
With a cavalier thrill.
Mint choc. cowboys
Shooting up the town.
Everytime
That ice cream van
Came around.
Now
Bells ringing.
Clinging,
To days
Of mischief and mirth.
What's a raspberry lollipop worth
As a memory
To an old man.
And our laughter.
Around that
Ice cream van.

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