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| | First Line, Last Line (Part Deux)Page 39 of 192 (25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37, 38, 39, 40, 41, 42, 43, 44, 45, 46, 47, 48, 49, 50, 51, 52, 53, 54, 55, 56, 57, 58, 59, 60, 61, 62, 63, 64, 65) | and sleep in the bed that we've made or turn and run and then yet learn to fly or trampled and possessed what the herd has to say deaf to the song of the birds in each day not screaming or crying or knowing what to say and turn blind eye hadn't learned how to fly so choose to laugh dance and sigh sun shines bright seeing moon in the sky in a heart bird's windsong blue and white luscious sky gypsy songs never die don't cry for me i didn't die learning how to fly. | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux) Posted: 7/10/2010 3:38:34 AM | Love and treat with kindness Well 'love' is a big ask Can't be taken to task If it's true we reap what we sow Then those who hate - hatred would grow Not as simple as that, I'd guess I don't purport to understand the mess Which represents the variety of human life Or how people enjoy creating chaos & strife But things are what they are - just have to accept While humans prowl the world it will never be perfect | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux) Posted: 7/10/2010 4:18:13 AM | while humans prowl the world it will never be perfect and yet who are we to say what perfection is anyway? could it not be it's all balanced perfectly? can we not see there is a sacred energy weaving webs by our design creating suffering for all time and loving life and death sublime... or learning now how to define what's real and what's imaginary? how strong is our creativity? could it not actually be we're creating our reality and though it may seem imperfectly, could this all just be imaginary? | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux) Posted: 7/10/2010 3:40:23 PM | could this all just be imaginary? a fragile fleeting spin through time teetering like a coal dusted canary perched upon a burning vine strung over a gorge of depth immense from which mists and beasts echo forth caught in a flash of the present tense somewhere alone between south and north is it a dream from which we escape when the sun slips over the hill and is the last breath before slippery death like the last drop of ink from the quill | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux) Posted: 7/10/2010 3:59:29 PM | like the last drop of ink from the quill like the last drop of moonshine from the still like the last drop of hope before i pay the bill i wanna eat ribs cooked by barbeque will
where harleys and triumphs and egos throw down in the name of soul food cooked under ground the cholesterol is ok for i know where im bound knocked out by a bullet that made no sound
shot in the back i got mad and walked on to my guitar to make up a song i can drag it out but i dont know how long i can say im half right when i know im half wrong
Howdy Ice. love you man. | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux) Posted: 7/10/2010 5:10:17 PM | i can say im half right when i know im half wrong as I sip from the cup that's half full all night long and he writes just like this when penning a song the last line doesn't rhyme with the others
we go back a ways through wine flavored days we both drink the broth and sometime he pays and it doesn't much matter what anyone says we feel just like long lost brothers
Rasko, you rascal, there's a story to tell... | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux) Posted: 7/10/2010 5:16:30 PM | we feel just like long lost brothers one sister and her brothers three together for all eternity lauging and crying and running along making it up and writing the song one plays the trumpet the other guitar one works for hollywood we all live quite far away from each other one sister three brothers yet soon we will be together...this family... laughing and crying hugging and sighing all grown up, supposedly.... this sister and her brothers three definitely share a love that's not imaginary | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux) Posted: 7/10/2010 5:32:24 PM | share a love that's not imaginary or do hard time with the toothless fairy fool me once had my head in a vice called it love, almost went there thrice
is it real or memories faded was there true love before we hated or slight of hand with a false bottomed hat well the bunny's long dead, so that was that | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux) Posted: 7/10/2010 5:39:11 PM | well the bunny's long dead, so that was that 'fraid it was eaten by the cat a love/hate affair they had on a dare my son's too young to remember
hey ice and rasko....good to see you | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux) Posted: 7/10/2010 6:21:36 PM | my daughter's too young to remember when i was dead on the street scraped off the street in december when my prey took me as young meat
the bunny's long dead, so that was that i held onto hope till he fried his mad hat i know that i will survive the hole to face the white rabbit and fill my role
bonghits on toadstools do insects sit as no one knows where to go the war is on, its tag your it we need to drift to what i dont know
(actually, i havent done a bonghit in over 20 years). | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux) Posted: 7/10/2010 7:48:24 PM | hard to resist that first line:
we need to drift to what i dont know but we are the stars in our own picture show so make it happen not just once or twice juicy fruity the offering now take a slice
go on let it drip its nectar perfume let go of the zoom, and the need to consume for every action is tagged with a price just more idle words from your friend ice | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux) Posted: 7/10/2010 8:00:53 PM | just more idle words from your friend ice and you friend Margo too, XXX Kisses its what I do... (thanks for all the peotry everyone) | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux) Posted: 7/10/2010 8:21:04 PM | its what I do she said to me then let me go just let me be I swallowed your hook and it snagged on my heart and that's not even the hardest part no the hardest part would be my head why didn't you cast the line there instead twas it you or me said let's go to bed and let the chips fall where they may well the salsa was hot and it burned going down and the chips tipped in bed and fell over the ground like creamy guacamole that slowly turns brown its best when its fresh as baked bread but stale and hard it makes a good bait just pierce it with hook, cast your line and wait but when lust turns to love and then slowly to hate toss em back in the drink and then anchors away | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux) Posted: 7/10/2010 8:40:05 PM | toss em back in the drink and then anchors away lost pirate maps as memories decay i know where im going but where i was i cant say at the scene of the crime what i did was amscrae
but under the torture of persuction i thought it was a joke for their imagination of dissolution did not make me choke
i am holding to the boycott on AZ, sorry. what is being proposed borders one step from the germans asking jews for papers in poland. that should not happen and can not be allowed to happen here. | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux) Posted: 7/10/2010 9:01:32 PM | did not make me choke did not make me blush did not get me excited not the slightest rush I wasn't turned smitten like a kitten on crack no chills or goosebumps ran down my back kept my sweet cool no look of surprise when she nibbled my neck then stared in my eyes no choker here just a steel poker face you think you got me with perfume and lace you thought I would crumble or bumble my words you've hit on the big time now go back to your nerds hey where are you going you teasing sweet tart didn't want you to go just playing the part no drama you say is in your pertoire shoot straight you say just be who you are so I shook like an earthquake and sweated a quart and wordless and stammering came my retort that's cute she said you remind me of Brave then said that's her chihuahua and I felt like a knave with tail tucked firm between my legs I begged like a dog but then she reneges so if you want love on your own special terms be prepared for the snub and a blush that burns | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux) Posted: 7/11/2010 2:43:15 AM | a blush that burns a body that turns faces to see her natural beauty emanating energy that we all carry but on her it flowed free naturally....eternally now just a memory forever haunting me | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux) Posted: 7/11/2010 8:49:54 AM | forever haunting me hmm a love with no terms no what would that be you go your way, I go mine, many happy returns no good for each other yet chose to copulate have those congical visits tormented by the thought, I ever was in it but love was sweet it was in the air or was it the pollution made me think it was the solution enjoyed it all, a faded tapestry even have the gulls. to say yea call me tomorrow the fugking, the fighting it never ends seems the only thing constant, my own little friend | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux) Posted: 7/12/2010 12:17:02 AM | my own little friend was me. nobody stood steadfast like me. oh...at times words spoken indicated..I had more than my own little friend. never lasted....except for my one friend who understood that I was indeed... a very good friend. lol. lol. lol. this friend had funny teeth this friend had ...shining eyes. | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux) Posted: 7/12/2010 3:16:20 AM | this friend had...shining eyes glowing like an animal in the dark eyes that created instant ties so inviting and yet so stark his look pulls me in against my will or is it merely coaxing what already did thrill enticing and focusing he brings on feelings carnal...ethereal....craving overloading and exceeding resulting in my enslaving | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux) Posted: 7/12/2010 9:16:56 AM | resulting in my enslaving cause and effect from us misbehaving acting erotic or rather erratic two entertained in love's sexual manic engulfed in the moment sexual fanatic brings on more feelings like heat from the attic days when I fell enthralled by her sin all from her touch my will thus ascends intangible feelings enslaved once again | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux) Posted: 7/13/2010 3:59:18 AM | Intangible feelings enslaved once again Not strong enough to break free or refrain The need to love & to be loved in return Is a hungry internal fire which effulgently will burn Always searching but never finding What was lost? Don't need reminding But all that really matters is all that was actually found For amongst the fool's gold crumbling to dust an emptiness does resound | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux) Posted: 7/13/2010 6:57:54 AM | an emptiness does resound in hearts of the cross when the time runs down proof is lacking, faith cracking, then fear dear Jesus rings hollow like a song on deaf ear
alone in the moment of grand atonement unknown the zone where the mind does foment a maelstrom of pictures, no scripture can depict just an alter boy approaching to snuff out the wick
go slowly young man, read another psalm please I want to feel calm in the final release let me believe I'm headed back to the farm and if I'm not, what harm, what harm
to bide this time calmly in humble genuflection go away satan allow me sweet reflection let my heart not race to the final line beat slowly, be holy, let my star shine
for thine is the glory or so goes the story and now I am part of the play pearly my vision no time to feel sorry Dear Jesus, I am on my way
(gee, I am being morose this morning. I'm fine, though, fit as a fiddle) | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux) Posted: 7/13/2010 10:13:33 AM | Dear Jesus I m on my way Yet here I still lay lost and forlorn, I mistook a moment of fleeting passion for a love that had potential
It was fun while it lasted couldn't quite grasp it until the flight took place Please God, take me in your sweet embrace I know you'll leave me never
your sweet love it last forever told all kinds of lies, had sex before marriage looking back I must have sinned Thank God, you still be my friend | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux) Posted: 7/13/2010 4:34:48 PM | Thank God, you still be my friend and destroyed not the city and punish such sin the youth have no morals, especially lacking the lustful provocative sexual encounter
what ever happened to my childish youth 1943 I just turned twenty0-two God would struck em both for such spite Sex before marriage, glad God is a friend
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