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How endlessly those railroad tracks lead on...
beckoning, to the great wide world beyond,
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Once, in an impulse, proud and vain,
Most excess hair we shed away,
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So I sat it on my kneeAnd from sure death
-I read them free, These poems from unrememory.
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On July 3rd in 1863
15,000 Confederate troops
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Swirling, writhing, smell of swamp And fish and excrement,
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Baking Powder biscuits in an old darkened metal pan
the essence of chicoree in a tin cup or a can
by Dixie Dawn
20 lines, 13 comments,
on May 20 7:36 PM. In Contest, History, Past, bygone days, LIfe, Thoughts, DIXIE, DIXIELAND, CIVIL WAR
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There was a little baby,
Who's life was about to unfurl.
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In the splendor of May It was there that she lay
by Dixie Dawn
72 lines, 1 comment,
on May 19 1:23 PM. In love, Life, history, civil war, past, Love, Story, soul mate, twin soul
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Is there really a place where dreams have all gone
that Is told about in those poems of old
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Damn them all for what they've done
my Johnny Rebel is gone never too return home
by Dixie Dawn
75 lines, 12 comments,
on May 19 12:31 PM. In HISTORY, LIFE, LOVE, PAIN, CIVIL WAR, SOUTH, THOUGHTS, DIXIE, DIXIELAND
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hear the rain dancing
on that tin roof outside
by Dixie Dawn
34 lines, 3 comments,
on May 19 12:27 PM. In PAST, LIFE, NATURE, TRAVELING SOUL, TIME, TRAVEL, HISTORY, DIXIE, DIXIELAND
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nostalgia deep for this moment of love
the sound of chirping songs from above
by Dixie Dawn
6 lines, 11 comments,
on May 19 12:10 PM. In THOUGHTS, LIFE, TIME, TRADITION, PAST, DIXIE, DIXIELAND, HISTORY, CIVIL WAR
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Pale moonlight shone
through curtains hung with care
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by samthebam
48 lines, 5 comments,
on May 18 12:32 PM. In caribbean, personal, multi-racial, bi-racial, mulatto, history, love, life, j
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She recites to him the insults that her mother heaps upon her,
inciting her young brother to avenge their father’s honour.
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Oh bourgeosie secure in your jobs and homes
Haven't any idea what it takes to survive
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Dealey Plaza entry point for the motorcade with the
Assassin already in place
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She walks
towards the line of soldiers
by kadunkadunk
23 lines, 2 comments,
on May 12 9:07 PM. In Message, War, History, Humanity, Hope, Society, Flower, Child, Peace
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Whispers of life in the past
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visions of a life in the past, growing up in that simpler time
by Dixie Dawn
20 lines, 6 comments,
on May 11 10:55 PM. In Childhood, Past, Nature, Life, DIXIE, DIXIELAND, TIME TRAVEL, HISTORY, CIVIL
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"Lady Clara sat in her black starchy dress, the fragrance of lavender wafting around her"
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The moon shines dim as Jack whistles in a tune,
the vermin leave him be as he stalks beneath the moon.
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An original poem could never be
throughout to be or not for thee.
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To the love of my homeland my life I will gladly forfeit
Mine enemies’ sword nor his spear shall I ever fear
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Untouched, Porcelain will last forever; but the fork will rust away... So. Which is the strong, and which is the fragile?
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Here was my home. Dead, gray, wasted in its glory.
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Form: Sicilian Septet Sonnet
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Will they be there again on Remembrance Day?
Have too many crossed the bar (or passed away)?
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I've got a little tale to tell, of how men came to dream,
Of massive engines, ships and cars, the best propelled by steam.
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In trenches deep with mud and slush each side of no-man’s land,
begrimed, unwashed, both weary teams took their accustomed stand.
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What are they doing down there? What do they celebrate?
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We stand next to each other:
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the sky was clear and bright
that afternoon in july
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Woman soldier of the Civil War, impersonated today.
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a government i hope will burn
as it's Freemason roots to be exposed
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I'll tell you all a story of a clear October day In the sovereign state of Kansas, over Oklahoma way.
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They're the fruit of Independence The Beginning of arrogance
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A Paiute shaman called Wovoka,
hailed all tribes from across the nation.
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Immortal are the ties that bind us, And guide us through this life.
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Newark, New Jersey, settled by Pilgrims
who came here to spare their religion in freedom
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The nectar of a fruitless life,
Tastes its finest in this seclusion,
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The Tsar has sent Opritchniks out with orders to select
the twelve most lovely maidens from all those that they inspect
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Behold a proud people, feel their misery,
suffering is part of their history.
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A poem about the accidental bombing of Nijmegen during World War II.
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