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Dedicate a poem, not lyrics to a song though, to another orger. For my dearest Imago:
SWEETEST love, I do not go, For weariness of thee, Nor in hope the world can show A fitter love for me ; But since that I At the last must part, 'tis best, Thus to use myself in jest By feigned deaths to die. Yesternight the sun went hence, And yet is here to-day ; He hath no desire nor sense, Nor half so short a way ; Then fear not me, But believe that I shall make Speedier journeys, since I take More wings and spurs than he. O how feeble is man's power, That if good fortune fall, Cannot add another hour, Nor a lost hour recall ; But come bad chance, And we join to it our strength, And we teach it art and length, Itself o'er us to advance. When thou sigh'st, thou sigh'st not wind, But sigh'st my soul away ; When thou weep'st, unkindly kind, My life's blood doth decay. It cannot be That thou lovest me as thou say'st, If in thine my life thou waste, That art the best of me. Let not thy divining heart Forethink me any ill ; Destiny may take thy part, And may thy fears fulfil. But think that we Are but turn'd aside to sleep. They who one another keep Alive, ne'er parted be. ^_^ Insatiable taught me everything I know about balls.
"I was born dancing! I came dancing out of my mom's vagina! Moonwalking and stuff..." - Number23 on the telphone. | |
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To an certain Orger
The story of man Makes me sick Inside, outside, I don't know why Something so conditional And all talk Should hurt me so. I am hurt I am scared I want to live I want to die I don't know Where to turn In the Void And when To cut Out For no Church told me No Guru holds me No advice Just stone Of New York And on the cafeteria We hear The saxophone O dead Ruby Died of Shot In Thirty Two, Sounding like old times And de bombed Empty decapitated Murder by the clock. And I see Shadows Dancing into Doom In love, holding TIght the lovely asses Of the little girls In love with sex Showing themselves In white undergarments At elevated windows Hoping for the Worst. I can't take it Anymore If I can't hold My little behind To me in my room Then it's goodbye Sangsara For me Besides Girls aren't as good As they look And Samadhi Is better Than you think When it starts in Hitting your head In with Buzz Of glittergold Heaven's Angels Wailing Saying We've been waiting for you Since Morning, Jack Why were you so long Dallying in the sooty room? This transcendental Brilliance Is the better part (of Nothingness I sing) Okay. Quit. Mad. Stop. Kerouac Jack | |
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To cheer Naked up:
The Rose family. The rose is a rose, And was always a rose. But the theory now goes That the apple's a rose, And the pear is, and so's The plum, I suppose. The dear only know What will next prove a rose. You, of course, are a rose-- But were always a rose. Robert Frost. | |
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To my dearest fleshofmyflesh, who has left us
Emily Dickenson - I'm nobody I'm nobody! Who are you? Are you nobody, too? Then there's a pair of us--don't tell! They'd banish us, you know. How dreary to be somebody! How public, like a frog To tell your name the livelong day To an admiring bog! | |
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Sometimes he'll desperately clash his words together
to produce some certainty – but there's no certainty in our world. And vainly does he fling his fiery words far, even beyond death, to dangle some mute mystery, to lighten the darkness that lies motionless on this mass grave and merely clings to miserable bones, spattered with verdigris from the lighter they overlooked in the executed man's trouser pocket. | |
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this is but a snippet of what i wrote:
Words always sound better When they're drenched in your voice wrapped in your tongue and sealed by your lips... desires live within me 2 drown in your romantic dialogue and become lost within your lustful moans... he knows the rest of it [Edited 8/21/05 10:47am] | |
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not for an orger...
sometimes the tears in the earth set me free sometimes the harsh dirt clouds my eyes sometimes the water rushes in and makes me cry your face so far away... your voice so distant and vague the last clothes I saw you wear they have become opaque wish upon a star and it might come true they say... others say be careful what you wish for... I don't give a shit I'll wish anyway I wish I could see you one more time I wish I could hug you one more time I wish you were still here | |
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For all Orgers.
BEAUTY IMPOSES by John Shaw Neilson Beauty imposes reverence in the Spring, Grave as the urge within the honeybuds, It wounds us as we sing. Beauty is joy that stays not overlong. Clad in the magic of sincerities, It rides up in a song. Beauty imposes chastenings on the heart, Grave as the birds in last solemnities Assembling to depart. | |
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2the9s said: For all Orgers.
BEAUTY IMPOSES by John Shaw Neilson Beauty imposes reverence in the Spring, Grave as the urge within the honeybuds, It wounds us as we sing. Beauty is joy that stays not overlong. Clad in the magic of sincerities, It rides up in a song. Beauty imposes chastenings on the heart, Grave as the birds in last solemnities Assembling to depart. that's really stupid. | |
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Natisse said: not for an orger...
sometimes the tears in the earth set me free sometimes the harsh dirt clouds my eyes sometimes the water rushes in and makes me cry your face so far away... your voice so distant and vague the last clothes I saw you wear they have become opaque wish upon a star and it might come true they say... others say be careful what you wish for... I don't give a shit I'll wish anyway I wish I could see you one more time I wish I could hug you one more time I wish you were still here | |
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ImagoMind777 said: 2the9s said: For all Orgers.
BEAUTY IMPOSES by John Shaw Neilson Beauty imposes reverence in the Spring, Grave as the urge within the honeybuds, It wounds us as we sing. Beauty is joy that stays not overlong. Clad in the magic of sincerities, It rides up in a song. Beauty imposes chastenings on the heart, Grave as the birds in last solemnities Assembling to depart. that's really stupid. Dude, I really think you're drunk. That's some accomplshed shit. | |
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Natisse said: not for an orger...
sometimes the tears in the earth set me free sometimes the harsh dirt clouds my eyes sometimes the water rushes in and makes me cry your face so far away... your voice so distant and vague the last clothes I saw you wear they have become opaque wish upon a star and it might come true they say... others say be careful what you wish for... I don't give a shit I'll wish anyway I wish I could see you one more time I wish I could hug you one more time I wish you were still here | |
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God, if this had been a contest Kerouac SO would have won... | |
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HamsterHuey said: God, if this had been a contest Kerouac SO would have won...
booooo! | |
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SammiJ said: this is but a snippet of what i wrote:
Words always sound better When they're drenched in your voice wrapped in your tongue and sealed by your lips... desires live within me 2 drown in your romantic dialogue and become lost within your lustful moans... he knows the rest of it [Edited 8/21/05 10:47am] Thank you Sammi...it's ummm...adorable???...lol...NOT Thats GORGEOUS! | |
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BobGeorge909 said: SammiJ said: this is but a snippet of what i wrote:
Words always sound better When they're drenched in your voice wrapped in your tongue and sealed by your lips... desires live within me 2 drown in your romantic dialogue and become lost within your lustful moans... he knows the rest of it [Edited 8/21/05 10:47am] Thank you Sammi...it's ummm...adorable???...lol...NOT Thats GORGEOUS! | |
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