“GASP” how dare you children use this site

1 Corinthians 13:12

Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.

Computor has a foul sense of humor today.

It remembers searches and keeps items stored in folders and when asked to perform a function it can do scores of stores and images and almost anything it even saves my voice on tape and transmits mee to mye babay in a email paperclipped thing. The image at photo bucket was just the fuehrer Hitler seems to have gotten on some bizarre security list. Error messages are the most bizarro fun. Word Document is silly if you want to make a word like bizzaro after you have typed bizarre then yew have to tell the document just to ignore it after all.

Here is the example one eye happen just to love.

  Temporary Error (502) We're sorry, but your Gmail account is currently experiencing errors. You won't be able to log in while these errors last, but don't worry, your account data and messages are safe. Our engineers are working to resolve this issue.

Please try logging in to your account again in a few minutes.

This one gives me fits and giggles try fits and fits if you get my drift if you can savvy my meaning if you can fathom my twain. Not to mention all the times the thing locks up and has to be restart eye like to log off to save my stuff but then it falters and it hems and it falls off and then restarts as if the eye was never there the thinking of the robot in the case near my left arm is so bizarre the bizarro refrain of the missing memory case. This was in my Evidence folder in YAHOO. They do it too the errors what eye meant. the computor REMEMBERS what you do


its just a FUNCTION

Author's Notes/Comments: 


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A Massacre



Author's Notes/Comments: 

Prose Poetry

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My father’s home theater

A few years ago, my father and I wanted to get a CD player, in the time regular CDs were the ultimate frontier of technology. We wanted it to be special; something we could say was ours, custom, not only out of the box. So we thought about getting something that didn’t get obsolete too soon, something we can upgrade on our own instead of buying a whole new each time technology changed. We first bought the core piece; it was a nicely black colored box with FM and AM radio, Tape recorder and a CD player with a space to fill in with a bunch of CD, just as if it was a jukebox. Then we wanted to make it better, we bought several big speakers so it had a clearly nice sound, there were five. And then again, we wanted to do better, and made the Television and the VCR to get connected to the audio player, so we could watch movies and have a better audio. When the DVD came out, we did bought one and connected it too. We even set the speakers as a surround audio system; it took us about a week to finish wiring the room to distribute the speakers through the whole room. But we had a lot of fun while we did the setup, we shared that time together. Now that the setup is complete, my family and I spend our weekends watching movies or television series. Since we completed it, we have seen at least a hundred movies together. We all join on the hall to watch a new episode of our favorite show every week. Just like some families get together during the dinner, we also do in front of  TV; we all relax, forget about any trouble and share a time together. When I get a house and family of my own, I will also build my own home theater. I will ask my son to help me build it,  so I can teach him all what I know about electronics and we can spend time together, just like my father did.

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Separation & Recognition

Maria picks up pencil and paper.

Maria sits upon the bed.

Maria begins to write.

Maria looks at the window blinds.

Maria scratches her head.

Maria looks at her textbook.

Maria continues to write.

Maria thinks of watering plants.

Maria takes a summer class.

Maria signs with some friends.

But I only watch her

as if from a balcony seat

I watch ballerinas perform.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

No comment.  Maria types a poem and adds it to her PostPoems portfolio.  Maria looks at the cat next to her chair.  Maria reads for class.  I am still watching her.

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The Wonderment

It all began when Ellie Masterson stepped out of her dorm room bare beam and buck naked at 5:12PM on a Thursday evening.

Perhaps part of it was that she had simply stepped. She didn't streak up and down the hall, wailing and flinging her arms every which way. She merely stepped out of her room and stood, one hand holding the door open, and peered about with a mildly curious expression. Her eyes flitted past the boys paying poker at the lounge table--all of them had stopped playing, and the youngest had dropped his cards--over the neighbors' doors, and finally paused on a colorful poster advertisting a local comedian for a moment. Then she turned and went back in to her room, shutting the door behind her with a faint "click."

The whole affair lasted less than 10 seconds. Multiply that time frame by 100 and you have a rough estimate of how long it took the entire campus to know that some girl named Evie or Ellen or Whatever Masterson had paraded her nude body in front of her entire floor section.

People wondered. "Who IS Ellie Masterson?" Was it true that her mother was a gorgeous ex-model who was so ashamed of her daughter's plain appearance that she locked her up in the attic, forcing her to pee in a Coke bottle and be in bed by 9, molding Ellie in to a crazed nudist? And how long did her father, a decorated war hero who was now an active member of the Peace Corps, spend lost in the deserts of China? These questions boggled the minds of every student except one, a black-haired physics major named Ellie Masterson.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Written 5/9/07.

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I was the fucking little kid?

I was the one who was being irrational?

Can a fucking little kid help you through so much?

Can a fucking little kid being you so much love?


If I was such a fucking little kid

Then why’d you fall for me?

Why am I such a “woman” in you god damn eyes?

If I’m so fucking like you

And you don’t call yourself a kid

Then how the god forsaken hell


Those words….

Oooh those words!

Those are never going to leave my mind!

Every ounce of good thought I had of you

Have been erased.

I gave you SO god damn much

You hurt me…

You hurt me more than anything

Not because of mere “lovers” rift

You were my friend!

Someone I could turn to…

Someone I could lean on!

Someone I was WILLING



I opened up to you…

You hurt me horribly…

“fucking little kid” How dare you!

After what I gave,

What I vowed!

What I changed!

What I showed you!

How dare you!

Inspired by: / Dedicated to:

Created on: Tylor E. Weaver

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My heart is crashing

My soul is closing up

You gave me a heart again

You allowed me to feel again

You gave me so much

I wanted it so badly

But no I can't let it be

Like that of Romeo and Juliet

Our love is forbidden

Now have told you not to feel for me

Now I begin another painful journey of trying to forget

Forgetting the passion

Forgetting the love

Forgetting the feelings of our great friendship

But, What do I Do?

I still love in you ways

But my love is forbidden

What do I do when I see you?

What do I do when I need help?

You were the only one I could turn to

Now you're gone

What do I do?

My feelings are crashing and colliding

My mind is twisting and turning in ways that I can't understand

What do I do?

Where do I Go?

Whom do I speak with?

Or is it I am doomed to shut myself off from the world and never love, feel, or care for another as I had before I had met you

I guess that is what it shall be

But then again it all comes back to that one question?

What do I do

I still love you

Inspired by: / Dedicated to: Dusty Watson

Created on: 2003  - redone February 25, 2006

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As the lone wolf does so in finding his pack

So will you in the search of your other half

A wolf is not a wolf without his family

And Tylor is not Tylor without his love

You'll find that she brings a smile to your face without your knowing

Instead of waking in tears you'll have the sweet scent of her next to you

The woman who is more than a friend, a lover, or a mother

She is your life-long companion

She stays by your side no matter what

She defends your words even though they may be wrong,

Because in her eyes, you're everything and hardly anything can be unjust

Keep a chin up Tylor. You're a strong young man. You'll find her. You're still alive ^_~ and your emotions, as you've said, tell you so... Good Luck

Inspired by: / dedicated to: Tylor E. Weaver

Created on: February 3, 2006 - 22:03

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This poetical-prose was originally made on November 23, 2005 - 2:03 in response to a blog post made by the inspiration and dedication. He felt that it was a poem, and I guess in some type of beat-nick way, it is. SO I�ve decided in reminiscence of him to make this one of my OFFICIAL poems)

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here i am crunching apart, to pieces, trapped in some sort of. . . pair of silver jaws, ragged and raw, becoming a bit of charnel, sustenance, i dunno, pleasure for the taste maybe, any number of wonder, any case of complaint, two to try not to taint each other, bronzing in the rays of extremity, churning n broiling until the broth has seeped into the very bones, and the munching continues thunderous because it is all around, cutting possibility, ruining opportunity..

flexing now. . . slow and widening eyes focus, sound will not engulf so completely, whereabouts discerned suddenly and this being .. stuck in fate belittled as bait for my wandering prison, individual personality and it will not let itself end, the chewed shards of me crash forth and inhale cleanly!

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