- on julha's page
- on bengal's blog post
- on Your Go-To in whiskey appreciation club
- on Fanciest Whiskey You Ever Drank? in whiskey appreciation club
- on Post Your Stash in whiskey appreciation club
- on symphony's page
My head lies in her trembling arms
A warm redness engulfs her hands
A ray of light reflects off the metal object in the distance
Her chin quivers as the hatred flows through her body
He did this to me -- My Father -- Our Creator
The hand that soothed, was the hand that killed
Her melody was interrupted by his vengeful lusts
He fell...
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If you can pronounce correctly every word in this poem, you will be speaking English better than 90% of the native English speakers in the world.
After trying the verses, a Frenchman said he’d prefer six months of hard labour to reading six lines aloud.
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Dearest creature in creation,
Study English pronunciation.
I will teach you in my verse
Sounds like corpse, corps, horse,...
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This ship is important to him
because somewhere in its lower depths
he hears the sound of his own breathing
as an engine clanking, clanking,
driving the ship on, all the gears grinding,
expenditure of force making
a hash of noise so that he cannot
hear himself think about her for more than a second
unless he looks beyond the shape of starlit waves
to...
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He tries to say, Stop. Stop talking, but can't,
and you can't and he's shaking his head,
sobbing. The trees blur into one green wall,
and you can't recall what it was
you couldn't not say. You think, When we stop,
he'll get out. We'll never speak again.
You touch his thigh, and he doesn't move.
Everything sighs a little. What is this?...
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How much do you know about your body?
I, for one, have had my body nearly my entire life and I have no idea how it works or why it does what it does, and more importantly, why it chooses to do what it does at formal dinner parties, in many cases.
The whole biology thing seems a bit complicated. The largest brains in our...
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It isn't madness but shame for wanting
and shame for not having what I want,
which is a kind of madness -- drunk,
3 a.m., the stairwell too steep to climb.
The bed can wait. I go to the pool instead,
strip and step in, the smell of smoke and sweat
washing from my hair and skin. The wet kiss:
her mouth pressed here, my...
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