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love poetry life poem nature death hope war loss pain

From play date to real date.

I just want to

arrrrrrrrrrrrrgrgggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

One thinks i'd be settling,

The other is hearing bells,

Beauty is skin deep,

yeah yeAH , I KNOW

He's brighter on the inside.

Possible disaster.

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Relay

 

Who brings the flame to signify

That peace now lights this land

On whose sure grip may we rely

Which body lends this hand

 

Upon whose face the gentle glow

To light the way for all

A worthy grasp of all that comes

With populace in thrall

 

The backers, hip to all things good

Whose strength may awe the meek

Are striding through our neighbourh...

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WOL Olympic Competition

A Cry in the Silence

 

 

My day is languishing...

The clean lace of  joy flew out with daylight

 

My hours saturated with sadness,

your cruel love was that mix of betrayal 

that played with the best of my dreams

 

I never, never felt so much pain...

and every day your indifference crumbles me

 

The love you gave me one day,

they were shadows, they were fantasies

...

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Also by Noris Roberts:

My lips have forgotten you | Let it… |

sad poems

Family Dinner

Two blistered sausages are spilling

their stuffing over the sofa.

The yellow of an egg has run;

the sun is exiting the sky.

Bacon curled dark anger, broken

by the children full of beans.

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Chinaman tell of miraculous conquest of gravity by Rochdale canal lock

 

Boat at bottom of hill.

Nose

Into stone canyon,

Gate behind close.

 

Water slump

Into stone canyon

Boat lift,

Bump-

 

Nudge top gate,

Man shout

Gate open

Boat go out.

 

Canyon fill.

Us up hill.

Magic?...yup.

Water down, us up.

 

                                                                                  ...

Read and leave comments (1)

For Winston`s Canal collection

ABC

ABC  

 

An after dark refuge for the boredom

of wild lads, that would otherwise turn bad.

Hitting the pads they came to understand routine

know what discipline means, when told to break.

 

Rocky music raised the pulse here,

as boxers, not dead-beats skipped to the beat

of aspirations.

 

Hard work, bumps and bruises

came their way; a little blood ...

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Also by Chris Co:

'ThePoetry Spoke' July Open floor & Guests. | Wirral Ode Show Open Mic July- Plus Filming Poetry. |

It's a Pity

 

It’s a pity that

you can’t take off your skin

like an old dress

can’t cover the rags

with a smart dress

so that to impress

can’t embroidery stitch the holes

made by moles

 

it’s a pity that

you can’t pull out your heart

to bask in the sun

can’t force it cut and run

from the life of one

can’t let your soul

fly in the sky like bird...

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Also by Larisa Rzhepishevska:

It Costs Nothing | My Angel Visited My Dreams Tonight | Oh, My Darling Odessa! | Yes And No | Love And Parting |

life

It's *My* Games

I am British and I'm saying it out loud.

Once more, I’m British, and oddly I’m quite proud.

The dumpy dignity of her Majesty the Queen,

The shared anxiety seeing Zoe lift it clean.

Can our Manxman Cav be the first to cross the line.

And what colour will Becs’s swimming medal shine?

The lovely Lizzie lifted my spirits to the sky,

with tears of gladness when we both be...

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Also by Alison Smiles:

Nice is not enough |

WOL Olympic Competition

THE NET

 

The net’s a big headache

I need a bloke you see

I search and search for hours

But can’t get one for free.

 

I bought myself a web cam

I thought I could chat and play

But there weren’t any blokey blokes

Only the ones that were gay.

 

Hang on! Who’s this?

It’s a blokey figure

Reminds me of my granddad

But my granddad’s thinner.

 

S...

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British Gas

British Gas

 

British Gas a vulture at large,

Have brought in a ludicrous new charge.

If you have a meter on your site,

They charge you nearly £200 per annum,thats not right !

This charge definately does stink,

Completely unjustified ,they need to rethink.

I've used no gas for a long long spell,

Hence this boiler of fury I do dispel.

Every quarter I get t...

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Also by hugh:

Mildred | The Queen's helicopter parachute jump | Colorado Carnage | Look both ways | Off licence robbery | The princess and the frog | Gentlemen,please take a seat | Chocoholics | Mistaken Identity | Pleased with Mr Postman | Desire | Hand picked | Protect the swan | Be careful what you buy | Mable | Raise them and praise them | The smile on your face | Spring brings bounce to young and old | Mario Balotelli--A hero |

It Is Time

This poem was written by my sister Sandra K. Smith, and is used with her permission.



Loving Memory Of Clovis W. Henderson 12/27/1931 to 12/09/2009


IT IS TIME

IT IS TIME December 9th, 2009.
IT IS TIME for our family to gather one by one.
IT IS TIME the Doctors, Nurses, Specialist, and Staff at the Hospital tell us.
IT IS TIME to let him go.
IT IS TIME they kept sa...

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Also by Shirley Smothers:

Glasses | My Unborn Child |

Exercise Without Apparatus

“The floor is now free for Sylvia of Estonia.”

 

A wisp of coloured tinsel caught

on the upbeat of a gaudy circus air,

 

she occupies every part of her allotted space.

So focused, now, that she seems to move far

 

beyond the confines of this local sports centre

- a sylvan leap across the intervening years –

 

to where all eyes are fixed on an Olympic ...

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WOL Olympic Competition

'Untitled'

UNTITLED
 
There's a hole in my head.
Where a brain used to be.
It's whole lot of space
and it's troubling me.

At night it get's cold,
When there's nowhere to keep
The warm dreams of dancing,
And songs that bring sleep.

There's a space in my throat
Where a voice used to sing,
But I threw up the words,
And there's no more to bring.
 
 
There's a pe...

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Lois EntwistleUntitled

The Hitting Game

 

On the island’s south side

a solitary town fizzes

like overloaded circuitry

on dark, motherboard hills.

 

Across a sticky, smooth-tiled walkway

an amusement arcade spills

a test of sexiness based on how clammy your palm is

and the hitting game.

 

You spin in coins so they register

on sensors worn numb. 

A padded stump protuberates.

The s...

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poetrycontemporarySeren

GHOST WRITER

 

GHOST WRITER

Our advanced Airblade jet came down in the mountains.                                                                                      

I spent wonderful times with the woman I love.                                                                                        

Now we're separated with no way of being reunited.                                         ...

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Also by NICK ARMBRISTER:

Shook Up | FLY | FORGOTTEN PLACES | Poland | THROUGH THE MIRROR | my new work done today at fitton hill writing group | PLANET | Stereo Death | MIND FLIGHT | INTO THE BLUE | Vodka | SPEEDING DARTS | Berlin read live in gullivers manchester july 5 2012 | TORRENT | There |

lonenly planet stationadvanced transoprtcrash landingsignal

Clandestine

 

“Hi love! I’ve had a bump on my head!

“I don’t remember a thing,” he said.

What am I betting?

It needs forgetting!

He’s remembering those that we wed!

 

We got together on the dance floor

At our club’s party the night before

He stroked my breast

I did not protest

Now we’re blaming the drink for sure!

 

Two days previous was his bumped head

...

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Also by Lynn Dye:

Cirrus |

First taste

Warmth rising with my kisses

Shivering your belly softness

And downwards I go

Your hand, tangled tight

In my red messy tresses

The pulse in your wrist

Rhythmic against my neck

I tilt my head upwards

My mouth teasing and begging

for the very essence of you

our eyes briefly meet in expectation

And even lower I go

As I’m eager for the first taste

...

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Also by Katy Megan:

Oxford Street Shopping | Stoned in Soho | Hotel Shower | An ode to idling on a Sunday |

love

To be a fisher of men.

"I am grateful to say, when quizzed, as I am thoroughly today,

'Wher've you been, where've you been, where've you been?'"

I steadfastly say, "I am come to church."

'As they can ask me questions of God again and again,till God has come home

And I will always have an answer.'

But of alcohol my heart beats hard inside my head and it hangs thereof.'

 

A fisher of men, my...

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Also by Rachel Bond :

The Dreadful Mermaid and A Slice of Orange Ocean |

12 Olympus Mount

12 OLYMPUS MOUNT

 

Summer side

Chiltern edge

sleepy suburb

privet hedge

 

trampoline

garden track

hanging basket

judo mat

 

new Greco-

Roman porch

five ring doorbell

lobby horse

 

loft paddock

downstairs pool

en suite yngling

 

good local fencing schools

 

bed springboard

vaultage space

planning ...

Read and leave comments (1)

WOL Olympic Competition

Let Me Pee

(an increasingly recurring theme)

 

 

When I find myself in toilet trouble

Prostate problems bother me;

Whistling while I’m dribbling

Let Me Pee.

My bladder’s full to bursting but I pass a tiny quantity

Whistling…

Which feels like molten lava in such sensitive anatomy

Whistling…

 

Let Me Pee, Let Me Pee

This is bloody agony

Whistling while...

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Also by John Coopey:

Under-Performing | Out Of Wine | In the Grotto |

OLYMPIAN ASPIRATIONS AND DREAMS

Today marks the opening of a great time in UK sporting history and the opportunity to welcome the world to

our shores - and, in particular - to the world's most famous city.  There are "lies, damned lies and statistics"

and the politics of envy and disbelief.   But let us put them all aside for a few weeks while we marvel and

rejoice at the elevation of human aspiration in its fines...

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Also by M.C. Newberry:

DREAMS CAN COME TRUE | TALKIN' THE WALK | OLYMPIC DREAMS | ENGLAND EXPECTS - or maybe not! |

Olympics

You read the literature or lets wash their dirty linen in public

 

This is a re-edit

 

To all those adults who are thrilled by the Olympics.

To all those sportspeople who are on the point of hysteria over the Olympics.

To all those in charge of or likely to financially gain from the Olympics.

To all those in the media -epecially the BBC-who have become 'embedded' into the circus,

...

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Also by Tommy Carroll:

£30,000,000,000 Olympics | Paris ahead... | The putting down | Do not turn me into rhyme | MC's wanted for L**** B**** | 125 GeV/c2 | Sportspro has rated Usain Bolt the 4th most marketable athelete in the world. |

La mer

Des mots, des vers, la ville qui s’efface

La nuit tombe comme  une allégorie.

Un feu dans l’âtre, une gorgée d’eau-de-vie.

L’essence même de la vie

Qui échappe au raisonnement.

 

Trop longtemps, j’ai cherché de l’or,

Bâtisseur de pyramide sous les soleils levant.

Cherchant dans les symboles de la nature,

Le message des origines de la mer.

 

Et j'ai vu...

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Workshop Opportunity

I haven't posted here for some time I mostly use my blog these days which I will link to I wanted to include a link to an event on Monday, Innverse and workshop: https://www.facebook.com/events/237192663068681/ Innverse is a friendly read around that happens the last monday of every month (we will be taking august off however)  I wrote up some of my workshop pieces on my blog to give people an ...

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Shy Jupiter

Jupiter ribbons

link of ebb slow tease the leer

rampant ore mush soft

in slight shines.

 

Another sly solve

sullen flaxen curfew peaks,

assures the form

allows it

to be alone.

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Also by Kealan Coady:

The Singing Cage | One Way | Q nome. |

It's not the flame that counts...It's the fire in our hearts

 

We waited hours for the torch to pass;

Helicopters hovered,

BMW bikes rolled platoons of police (all high fiving)

Past our aching feet

And flagging flags.

Spirits slowly sank,

Euphoria evaporating under the scouring sun.

 

Then the Murmur approached.

Life returned to our lifeless limbs

As acrobats cartwheeled along the white-lined tarmac;

A who...

Read and leave comments (3)

Also by Yvonne Brunton:

Us Nolimpics | 100 metres | Us Nolimpics |

WOL Olympic Competition

Compy Dompy

I represent our client Mr Dumpty

He had an accident you may recall

And though some might regard him as a 'numpty'

We feel the blame lies squarely with your wall.

 

In short to watch the Royal pageant pass through

Mad throngs had lined the streets as mad throngs do

And Mr Dumpty being short in stature

Climbed your wall to get a better view

 

Our client was...

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humour

Three Days

                              Three Days

 

 

Things – places people come to be,

Happenings everywhere telling tales,

We’re never stopping to admire though –

Each; caught sadly unawares -

The vastness of life - everywhere you

Cast open eyes yet,

     All, took for granted –

The fastness of living never slowing

     And, we’re always asking for a

Sh...

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Also by Noetic-fret!:

Excuse Me | Sacrifice | Cause and Effect - Action, Reaction | A Heywood Fallen Hero | It's Begun |

Life's Towpath

 

We walked the canal towpath in a gentle summer haze,
watching a lock leak water that seemed to go on for days,
our collie was running ahead and kept turning to watch us dawdle,
but we were in no hurry then as time seemed to present no hurdle...
 
It was the mid eighties and we were just two lovers, with one dog,
marriage was fine as we were, holding hands with no r...

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Also by Dave Dunn:

Red Wine | no No NO NO! |

CanalsLoveLife

Lydia

I met a woman at the Blue Nile.

Our first encounter was her attempting to kiss my face. She seems to be in her mid-late fifties/early sixties. She began to tell me that she is okay, over and over again. She began to cry. She told  me her sun died. He OD'ed at 39 years old. She watched him die, with his head between the toilet and the sink. Her other sun blamed his brother's death on her. Sh...

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LydiaWaterDeathPainTearssecretdancefireshoesclownsbutterfliesopenboxminnesotablue nile

Young dude's swagger.

 

Young dude's swagger

Shirts off in the sun

Comparing tattoos

With everyone,

Like battle scars

And walking galleries,

They surely are a force of life to see,

 

Testosterone fuelled

And chewing gum,

Singing along

 To the ipod hum.

 

But in every city centre

Of this Twitter Facebook land

Theres a middle age parent looking on

 Tr...

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A legend

I've been looking through old school exercise books. This is from June 1986; I was eleven.

Seven standing stones are under the sky,
seven standing stones shall never, ever die.
Clouds blow, grey, white, or black,
and the wind shall blow, blow through the stones,
and memories shall fade and die,
and nobody shall know, know the reason why
seven standing stones are under the sky.
...

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Shakespeare's Aunties (Stockport WoL Collage Poem)

Fun by numbers; birds loom, weather threatens.

The naked jogger eyes the eagle's wings.

 

Walking on egg-shells

Breaks me up

 

Senses erotic with words

And the ghost of memory writes his name

 

You do it to make the story work.

 

 

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Also by J F Keane:

3GA |

Stockport Write Out Loud

Out of Time

 

A chord played through

fifty years Keith doesn’t need to look

he listens

 

a white face caught

eyes fixed on Bill

running the bass

 

and at the back

ready to take the mike

Mick dances

 

18.07.12

(from a photo of the Stones first gig)

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RHYMES FOR 'ORANGE' - two in a single sonnet !

 

PENGUINS ORANGE, PENGUINS GREEN :

(Verse written in part-payment for detective fiction bought from Mrs Ann Green)

 

Of all the things that come to me in boxes :

Tea, books, crockery, certain parts of foxes,

Postcards of Margate; stage awnings of Ben Nevis,

Or small still-animate occupants of corner, fold or crevice -

There's one that stirs the pen and makes its...

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Also by John Z Hepworth:

ZAARDVAARK THE WORDSMITER | ON FIRST LOOKING INTO THE EYES OF JOHNNY SOLSTICE | A BORSETSHIRE FANTASY : O CAROLINE |

Ghost Train

I hope to use this (and other poems to come) as part of a heritage project with youngsters. This particular poem will be used to inspire an exploration of the history of Horwich Loco Works. I would appreciate a bit of critical feedback before I unleash it on an unsuspecting public! Thanks.

 

The long, brick built workshop

Stands empty now

The full arched windows stare blankly

...

Read and leave comments (1)

On Not Wearing Purple

 

Sod wearing purple

I’m gonna fake dementia

Sup single malt in Tesco aisles

and Jose Cuervo Gold                       

Steal Thornton’s biggest fuckoff box

of truffles,  milk and dark

Then stuff my face with Krispy Kremes

Leave fingermarks on magazines

I’ll ride the roads in off-peak times

Rob Asdas far and wide

A North West quest to shoplift shite

...

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The Pessimist's Song

 

You’ve got Jonathan Edwards Eyes.

The ones he had when his sight

was blinded by the light,

before his soul was plunged

into eternal darkness.

 

Some men are at peace not to have in their head

a grandiose plan,

or believe, we’re not dead when we’re

dead;

 

that our wits will stay sharp,

hard work’s not a cage,

that love conquers all

a...

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England

 

In Peterborough by the old church
Ouside the shopping centre
 
Rain falls on me from the sky
As I eat my Branston pickle pork pie
 
From M&S it was
One pound sixty five
 
And I've never felt so British
And I fill with pride
 
Just been to Argos too
To get my mum a gift
 
Ear rings and a neckless
With little fake diamonds in
...

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EnglandMumDiamondsBritain

Funeral Crasher

 

Funeral Crasher

 

Outside the crematorium ,

I am greeted by bullet stares.

Hissed Who is she ?

information sliding from the sides of mouths.

The car park becomes the OK Carral,

my father’s family and I

facing each other like gun slingers.

But cousin Heather breaks ranks

crushing me in a 52 year old orphan’s hug,

the rest of the family stand down...

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Yesterday

Yesterday I weeded the strawberry bed,   

And tugged a thousand dog violets from the ground;

Their lilac flowers played the rain and

Now the swollen seeds

Blow from sprinkler heads.

 

My  fingers pince the brown thin leaves from strawberry base,

Grip the soil in earthy solitude,

And turn the leaf to find:

 

No harvestmen scuttling ‘fraid from base to base...

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garden weather

The Substance Of Angels

The Substance of Angels

 

I have surely walked with angels,

Through my deepest darkest night,

Called to comfort they have held me,

Brought me safely to the light.

At my heels the prince of devils,

Demon herds like screaming swine,

All they promised was my glory,

Sweet contentment, heady wine.

 

See within this pale reflection,

Mirrored by the blac...

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The Potter

...and there she stands as if on air
A light wind blowing through her hair.
A Demi Queen..
..using language that is so obscene
I have to turn away.

But she seems to know the words I want to say..
,,whip me.strip me
Pip me to the post.
After all I am first and foremost a male of the species
She's
A dark Demon who seems bent on my fall.

The Demi Queen is just a dream b...

Read and leave comments (0)

Also by John Smallshaw:

Backwaters |

La Vita Nuova

IKEA is hell; or rather,

Hell must be very like IKEA.

 

It goes on, and on, forever,

All the signage is demonic, unintelligible

Written in Enochian or runes

Like the Lord’s Prayer said backwards.

 

They even sell black candles; to make things worse

The demons are all Swedish

With staring eyes like Moonies or Branch Davidians

And the torments include m...

Read and leave comments (1)

Also by STEVE RUDD:

New Poetry Title from The King's England Press |

LOCKED IN

 

LOCKED IN
 

Being locked in, this place of sorrow,
I live in hope, for today, 
and tomorrow,
 
Hope of a release, a pardon agreed,
its rest that i yearn,
my soul to be freed,
 
I watch life pass by, like a movie or play,
not being able to partake,
no words can i say,
 
I talk through this aid, my eyes ...

Read and leave comments (0)

The Dark Cheeks of KD Lang

It must be the march of the brave souls

of the drawing of the truth

of the giant magnet 

of life itself given here

under my skin.

 

Hope, dark and thick 

always through a narrow time

 

Oh, and the constant hunger of wisdom

always hungry, always have been

 

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Also by Winston Plowes:

Camsol |

hyena

The bike race

In the subway they’re cleaning the graffiti;

new mural with torch / jubilee theme.

Railway bridges receive fresh coats of paint.

Down-at-heel England attempting to gleam.  

 

The schoolkids have made willow sculptures

of cyclists leading the way. At the park

where teenagers drink wine all night,

the beer tent is open all day.

 

The Olympics are coming to ...

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WOL Olympic Competition

Grandad's Feet

 

Are long and

broad

and tell a story

of their own.

 

But I can

only remember their

safe carriage of my small

childish feet

dancing step by step

in time,

seeming so large and remote.

 

Now they’re just

average-sized.

 

Read and leave comments (3)

 

Poem for now

 

Where we walked is now houses,

Only the road is the same,

The road the colour of sky,

Where the eyes impatient kissed

and behind the gauze of such

thoughts

are minds drift into

a poem for now

the volcanoes coughing up

it`s fire of now

We wait for the mountain to renew a

song of now,

The birds sing like feathered

pr...

Read and leave comments (0)

Also by Neil Francis Brooks:

Listening to Mozart | (untitled) | Turning Clouds |

The Forest (See me read this out on Youtube: http://youtu.be/WIuPa8e3GYo )

The Forest

An ancient goat’s voice echoed through the remaining trees.
It bleated a message of natural interconnected memories,
Liberated tranquillity,
Disconnection from technology.

A vibration in decaying undergrowth
Introduced a power animal’s presence;
The maternal spirit of a she-wolf,
Guiding descendants of her crescent-moon killers.

A guest to Nature,
Humanit...

Read and leave comments (0)

Also by Paul Pyke:

Freedom and Control (see me read this out on Youtube: http://youtu.be/JxLhbXaRDlI ) |

Show more entries …

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