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Post by tjaman on May 16, 2006 17:03:38 GMT -5
And a small discreet 'v' Just north of the knee
As she spins in the air With no hint of a care
So wild and so free ... For a fee.
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Post by tjaman on May 16, 2006 17:06:39 GMT -5
And that's quite enough outta me. ;D
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Post by dEz on May 16, 2006 18:21:14 GMT -5
11:53
Wheeeeeeeeeeeeee! ... Woah Tj! I really liked this one .. what inspired this? I must dive in again ... ooohhh -- it's like those lilacs outside your window in the alley -- so alluring me in.
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Post by dEz on May 16, 2006 18:25:17 GMT -5
And that's quite enough outta me. ;D Oh but she waits, and still waits, Miss Amy Lee, in her pink nighty...
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Post by tjaman on May 16, 2006 20:14:56 GMT -5
I was just enjoying an image and it became a poetic expression.
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Post by dEz on May 17, 2006 5:20:11 GMT -5
I was just enjoying an image and it became a poetic expression. It's really good. Even the next day. Amy Lee from Evanescence? I am guessing.
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Post by tjaman on May 17, 2006 9:11:52 GMT -5
That is the she I mean.
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Post by dEz on May 17, 2006 9:43:15 GMT -5
here's my first attempt at posting some poetry, please be gentle: Dezzie knows of what she speaks, cheese 'round every corner, so fresh and new it squeaks.
Gosh I did miss this yesterday -- sorry Spk.
I'm gonna post it on my blog page at 'Thon. Thats what I do with all my gifts in post!
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Post by dEz on May 17, 2006 9:49:42 GMT -5
... oh and I lub your poem too!
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Post by dEz on May 18, 2006 5:18:02 GMT -5
An Analysis of Cheese as Metaphor in Buffy the Vampire Slayer
(This person is clearly obsessed with the squeeky food product)
SITE-LINK
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Post by GreatMuppetyNick on May 18, 2006 10:51:33 GMT -5
Daybreak, time's bell ring Warm dreams fade from me Reality 'trudes my eyes so harsh As I wake from you.
Deep breath, the morning calls Cold water splashes, the body revives My reflection in the mirror beckons As I think of you.
Eyes bright, I work my craft The gods of logic behest my call My fingers move like spiders do As I talk to you.
Day's end, the body's worn The mind slows down Darkness comes As I dream of you.
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Post by dEz on May 18, 2006 10:58:34 GMT -5
That's really lovely Nick!
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Post by tjaman on May 18, 2006 10:59:32 GMT -5
Halfrek: Hello, William.
That's sweet and awful at the same time, Nick!
You'll be a failed 18th century poet yet! ;D
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Post by GreatMuppetyNick on May 18, 2006 11:07:15 GMT -5
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Post by dEz on May 18, 2006 11:44:33 GMT -5
I'm going to post a writing project created by my daughter. We just received a letter from the EKU yesterday that she will be published in the "Young Writers" page in the Richmond Register in a monthly feature of the Sunday paper "Lifestyle" section.
I'm so proud.
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Confusion
Confusion is the color of white snow in the summertime. It is the sound of someone crying for help when they are lost in the dead of night. And tastes like the sweat dripping down your face when an important answer is unknown.
Confusion smells like palm trees in the middle of Nebraska. It looks like a wrinkled forehead and a straining brain. It makes me feel limited.
Confusion is the dark black corridor we all see in our dreams. It is the sound of the news that you hear when a loved one dies. And tastes like a lemon when you are eating an orange.
Confusion smells like an open flame in your wooden house. It looks like a fork in the road and you don't have a map. It makes me feel mystified.
Confusion is the color of an aqua pool. A mirage in the desert. It is the sound of imaginary footsteps you hear after reading a scary story. And tastes like the glue you were dared to try.
Confusion smells like dead, rotten fish in a flowing river of green. It looks like a jaded kindergartner (for they are never tired). It makes me feel like I am struggling in everything.
Everything can be confusing, if you think it to be.
By: Callie Jahn Age: 13
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