Quotes about twins, page 20
Elegance of Peace
Worn torn cities—inner city violence
Death, sorrow and misery
Feelings of discontent
Conceptualize with malcontent—
Atom bombs, nuclear holocaust
Peacemakers of the world
Man-made instrumentation of peace—
So where is the diplomacy in that?
Does it really exist—Hell No!
We speak of peace
With total annihilation
Maybe, because peace/violence
Are mirror twins of each other
Like good and evil—there is no existence without the other—
So is this the elegance of peace— that we speak of?
The peace that we envision for our children
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poem by Gregory Upshaw
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My Forgotten Angel I'm Without You
The eyes bleed form the insides
The head collapses on impact
How am I suppose to react
The sweat pours from my forehead
You were thought to be dead
With so much left unsaid
Forgotten angel
Forgotten angel
I'm so sorry
You lied in a comma
Three years pasted
The doctor said you'd never wake
Oh how the heart breaks
Forgotten angel
Forgotten angel
You've missed so much since you supposedly died
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poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Lizards And Snakes
On the summer road that ran by our front porch
Lizards and snakes came out to sun.
It was hot as a stove out there, enough to scorch
A buzzard's foot. Still, it was fun
To lie in the dust and spy on them. Near but remote,
They snoozed in the carriage ruts, a smile
In the set of the jaw, a fierce pulse in the throat
Working away like Jack Doyle's after he'd run the mile.
Aunt Martha had an unfair prejudice
Against them (as well as being cold
Toward bats.) She was pretty inflexible in this,
Being a spinster and all, and old.
So we used to slip them into her knitting box.
In the evening she'd bring in things to mend
And a nice surprise would slide out from under the socks.
It broadened her life, as Joe said. Joe was my friend.
But we never did it again after the day
Of the big wind when you could hear the trees
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poem by Anthony Evan Hecht
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Still Trying To Learn That Lesson
In my wildest dreams,
I would never have imagined...
Or in my mind thought to create,
The twists and turns my life has taken.
I am not that innovative.
I learned early as a child,
The term sacrifice.
But the meaning of it,
Has hit home clearly...
On more than one occasion,
With an experience of it.
I also learned the meaning of patience.
But I didn't think,
The meaning of it meant...
I would need to have it for the rest of my life!
'Someone' ordered re-writes to my contract.
I learned early as a child,
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poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Anna Lu King 1910/2001
O’ beautiful black queen…
The center of my dreams…
Enjoy your sleep…
It made me weep…
Yet in my heart you I keep…
And there you will live on…
O’ great queen…
You still watch over me…
And give me God’s favor, faith…
You’ve showed me how and what…
Is love…
Understanding how I was bad and made me see…
My good…
O’ beautiful black queen…Mother…
Of my Mother…
Woman of my second home…
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poem by whisperkwane Lamb
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Noise: A signal the individual is unaware [s]he could decipher
Background static is held to be noise,
interference' which often annoys,
yet all noise is not static
but code automatic,
signals atoms which seek equipoise.
Here is there, where perception employs
perspicacity spurning poor ploys,
though tao trip's tip erratic
seems, dreams reel to vatic
conclusion aback zen tortoise.
What some hear noise pollution to be
may steer others to cheer ecstacy
therefore channel perception
and filter conception
of subjective judgements at sea!
Decibels on the rise may disguise
signals which in their turn catalyze
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poem by Jonathan Robin
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What Could Hurt We Refuse To Say
we sleep because we are too
exhausted
not really because we are enslaved
by the king of
working ants
but we are
we have become the masters
of too much worries
preoccupying ourselves with
this state of
unfeeling
this loneliness that has dawned in our
days
widely awake to an unacceptable reality
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poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Roll Me Over
Now, this is number one,
And the fun has just begun.
Roll me over, lay me down,
And do it again.[CHORUS]
Roll me over, in the clover,
Roll me over, lay me down,
And do it again.
Now, this is number two,
And he's got me in a stew.
Roll me over, lay me down,
And do it again.[CHORUS]
Now, this is number three,
And his hand is on my knee.
Roll me over, lay me down,
And do it again.[CHORUS]
Now, this is number four,
And he's got me on the floor.
Roll me over, lay me down,
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poem by Anonymous Americas
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One Thing Leads To Another
The wind blows pure- unpolluted...
My blinking eyes see signs of Grace...
The fluff from the clouds temporarily disappears...
And give the mysterious woods-a face;
The purple dawn awakens all of my senses...
As the brillant lemon-orange rises in the East-
A gentle sigh from a past shadow whispers a single breath-
While a raging thunder builds as a mighty beast;
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poem by Theodora Onken
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love Died Young
They met at the local library
One cold wintry day
They had nice conversation
And later met again at
A local party
He had hair of black
Blue eyes and a lovely smile
He was so handsome in her eyes
Her hair was golden like wheat
Her eyes were emerald green
Her beauty was rare
He adored her
They dated for 2 years
Then one day he fell to his
Knees all pride pushed aside
And he asked her to become his wife
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poem by Becky LaPrarie
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