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Ty

About Me

Poets a Poet cause he cant shoot cannons -If he could shoot cAnnONS He'd aim war toward the moon -If he could shoot cannons No child sleep tonight no mother sleep tomorrow No father find the border no warrior live on. Not even the soldier that bunked behind his garage. Not even the one that slept beside his wife. It's ON hot sandwich grab the condiments and spare a napkin, fold the corner, smudge your cheek, salad forks in the sink resort to your pincha' This is the table for the grown, turn your tassel throw your thinking caps, shed your gown, kiss your grandma for a buck fifty n hop the rail toward the big buildings Honor Roll Pack an umbrella Stars arent permanent The skys falling and YOUR STANDING ON MY MOON the poets here now, I'm here.

My Blog

If i had a match but nothing to strike it with...

don't go craze now settle slow wait can't you strike a match off your zipper coat catch the groove you know? Trust me light wouldn't give it up for justiceWhy would she creep now?Wait can't you dry it...
Posted by on Sun, 25 Jan 2009 13:16:00 GMT

"Honestly" Another hilarity

If truth be toldBe told I never flown this lowThis low beforeBefore I close my eyesmy eyes have sworn of sights No sightNo sight so quite or sorta likeTo order life into' prefixes and sub particulars....
Posted by on Thu, 15 Jan 2009 17:37:00 GMT

a fiddlas admiration of sin

oh to the fiddla and his untouchable viewpoint-Dear Mr. i'ma make you hate you. Can i ask you a question?Can i give you a dose of antidote,do you want the cure or the charm of the spotlighted ones.it...
Posted by on Thu, 24 Apr 2008 16:29:00 GMT

The fiddler and herhis castle

trust me you really dont believe that!can you hear that says the lil' school boy on the leftthe fiddler has warn out Melody and her handsome company all cousins of imagination, first generation.can yo...
Posted by on Wed, 23 Apr 2008 10:15:00 GMT