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Spry, wry, and gray as these March sticks,
Percy bows, in his blue peajacket, among the narcissi.
He is recuperating from something on the lung.

The narcissi, too, are bowing to some big thing :
It rattles their stars on the green hill where Percy
Nurses the hardship of his stitches, and walks and walks.

There is a dignity to this; there is a formality --
The flowers vivid as bandages, and the man mending.
They bow and stand : they suffer such attacks!

And the octogenarian loves the little flocks.
He is quite blue; the terrible wind tries his breathing.
The narcissi look up like children, quickly and whitely.
Enzo Badia Feb 2011
Someday I’ll paint a mural.
I’ll paint it on one of the walls in my room.
It will consist of your favorite colors,
Your favorite things,
Everything that adds up to you.
I’ll let it dry, I’ll let it show.
I’ll look at it at night when
The vibrant colors begin to glow.
And when I finally build up the courage,
When I get past the days that seem to drag on,
I’ll stand on my own two feet and.
I’ll break down that ******* wall.
I’ll even take a picture of the ruins,
Just for your eyes to see,
That the damage I did to the wall,
Was nothing compared to the
Damage you did to me.
Written on October 26th, 2010.
Amitav Radiance Jun 2014
Let your heart drown in tears
To cleanse away the wound
From it shall spring eternal fountain
Of inspirations, to open your heart
To Love, Hope, and inspiration
Muses will come to drink from it
And poetry shall flow through you
Every particle of you enamored
By the sweet water, flows eternally
Replenish the soul and turn the tide
To delve deeper in to self-belief
And, embrace knowledge to fight a stormy world
Poetry is the panacea for a recuperating soul
For there is the eternal fountain to drink from*



















© Amitav (Radiance)
anastasiad Nov 2016
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Mateuš Conrad Sep 2016
i'm sometimes bothered about the times i live in,
it's getting weirder and weirder by the day,
England is becoming like the Polish-Lithuanian
commonwealth partition years:
the szlachta (aristocrats and brokers of
the economy) have already partitioned England,
not on the visible spectrum of borders -
the Poles are punching bags by the offset of
the refugee crisis that caused the unrest in the
Union - we know where the problem truly lies:
it's hard to practice the religion of Louis XIV,
mainly: appearances are everything -
to appear non-discriminatory is the prime concern...
but there are always a few village idiots to
give the ontological experiment away as flawed -
as i once lamented not ever having an English
girlfriend, even though i've lived here
30 / 8 of my life... but then i look at the statistics...
maybe that's for the better...
but what i'm really bothered about is that we're
not living in times of real history, of making
dents in history like Achilles might have,
we're living in times of nostalgia...
now i can appreciate individual nostalgia,
Hölderlin and Nietzsche lamenting Ancient Greece...
a revival that never came... i can understand
patient and individualised nostalgia,
a well-informed nostalgia...
but en masse nostalgia that i'm experiencing?
horrid... horror! i'm living in the days when
20th century musical nostalgia is rife... it's everywhere!
compare the mood of individuals (Sylvia Plath)
against the mass of the 1950s and the 1960s...
there are no comparisons under the microscope -
the two expression will never fit, i know that's obvious...
in history there's either the whole being sold,
or there's the selection of what's worth buying and
what's worth discarding...
but that's how it's becoming to look like:
whatever is deemed historical on television
is turned upside down into nostalgia -
in everyday society, in clubs in pubs, anywhere,
history is irrelevant,
                                    the sacrilege of talking politics
and religion in English pubs is just like
walking into a pub wearing some football shirt...
but isn't that crude, given neither politics or religion
are in an Utopian ideal?
for the most part, we obstruct history by invoking a need
for nostalgia... it's always the obvious that i write
about... perhaps nostalgia is a sort of defence mechanism
to history... current, and future...
                    we learn about history in schools,
but we rarely appreciate it in leisure times -
nostalgia is a leisurely approach toward history -
nostalgia also makes Darwinism redundant:
i still don't know why it's so important, when in fact,
you turn on absolute radio on Friday
and it's the 1980s theme... but whereas those
Romantic poets experienced a nostalgic so far removed
many changes were possible and invested in...
whereas i? i live in an immediate state of the masses
recuperating from history in nostalgia from
30, 40, 50 years ago...
                                      which has created this
bubble in history... it's as if we all decided to create a
cut-off point from previous histories, and whenever
past history pops it's ugly head, we excuse with shock
from the cut-off point of the second half of the 20th
century (the pinnacle), followed by the words:
IMAGINE THINGS LIKE THAT HAPPENING IN THE
21ST CENTURY! SIMPLY UNTHINKABLE!
well, reality is a raw herring after all: in cream
and white wine vinegar - bites!
i don't know if all this immediate nostalgia will be
beneficial... i actually think it won't be...
it's almost harsh to realise that we will never be rid
of the 1950 - 1999 period - but it looks like that -
and then you think: so those redeeming literature
from long ago are dust brood and bore -
perhaps... some prefer new furniture, some prefer
antiques...
                   but this is me only being 30...
     i wonder what will happen to this omnipresent
prescription of nostalgia... i guess no real historical
importance will be given, 200 years from now,
to people who lived in it... we'll be considered
the nostalgic period of human history,
                  not the historical period as already stated:
sure, technical innovations -
                                                   to make people
important as they once were will be the major task...
along the lines: Louis XIV, Jesus, Genghis Khan...
           Apple's iPhone 6s Plus... that's what it looks like.
Annie Feb 2017
Once upon a thyme
In an herbed house
Their lived a witch
Whose ripe rampion
Was so overpowering
That the neighbors
Left bottles of febreeze
On her doorstep.

The witch didn’t care
- But
In the flat-ironed town
Of Lunch time lipo
Where you were defined
By your eating disorder
She looked like
An Omish escapee
With hips that wriggled
And ******* that jiggled

So her cell phone number
Wasn’t in anyone’s top five
-Except
For one confused neighbor
Who never made it to college
And got to experiment
Like a true Gemini.

Now imagine the witch’s surprise
When this neighbor confides
That she would love to eat
Her ripe rampion.
- Naturally
The witch agreed.
It was nice to have something
That somebody else wanted
Though it was exhausting
For the neighbor
Who munched day and night.

And if one surprise
Wasn’t enough
The witch discovered that her
Neighbor was pregnant.
Now the witch had many powers
But that wasn’t one of them.
It appeared that her neighbor
Found her husbands
Carrot patch to
Quite esculent also.

And the witch
Being a picky Virgo
With a jealous Scorpion moon
Thought that her neighbor
Should not
Have spun around the vegetable
Color wheel quite so fast
And so in a fit of temper
She stole her baby
And locked her away
In an ivory tower.

Initially everything worked out
Until the oil crisis
And then the witch couldn’t
Visit Rapunzel quite as often
As she would have liked
Not with gasoline
Being so expensive
And so Rapunzel became bored
And started chatting to
Prince charming
On her face-book wall.

The witch took all the hopeful Trojans
That the prince had left
On previous visits
And tied them together
To form a rubbery step ladder
And when she heard him shout
"Rapunzel, Rapunzel…let down your hair!"
She threw this at him…angling it
With just a little thread of hate.

Prince charming grew all shivery
And put on his worst
Austin powers "Oh behave" accent
Thinking of the delights
That awaited him

However, his shivery-ness
Soon became a full body tremor
When the witch met him
On the top rung
And he knew quick enough
This wasn’t a
Ménage à trois.

The prince spent many months
In traction
Recuperating from his fall.
Rapunzel was sent off
To boarding school.
And as for the witch…
She dropped twenty pounds
And got her own reality show
*Housewives of Salem county.
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Lina Lotus Jan 2017
Trauma Center

Smoke
Liquid on the ground
My head spinning
"Are you ok", I hear her asking
"I'm an EMT"
I hear a male say
"Hold on don't close your eyes, help is coming"
Then what appeared to be the longest wait reaches an end
I hear a man almost ripping out the door from my new red car (doesn't matter it's just a car)
Finally with a neck brace and on a stretcher
Flashing lights and sirens screaming
It hit me
I can't move and my abdomen feels like I got punched a million times
I can feel someone cutting through my pants
My knees where bleeding
"Where your pants torn before the impact?"
" no," I answer
How? I was just driving

"We're here"
Push, push
Hurry, hurry
I feel all, ALL of my clothes being cut off
Tests and more tests
I'm just thankful I'm alive!  

------------------------------//////::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
The Things we take for granted

I used to breathe without having to think about it
Now I slowly inhale waiting for the pain that follows
I used to get up...in seconds I'd be on my feet
Now the pain is excruciating
I need support to pull myself up
Getting into bed is another eternal task
But thankful to God that I'm still here
And working on recuperating
Please wear your seat belt it saved my life

Pray for me
* the lady that came to my help... she sat next to me, prayed for me as we waited for the  paramedics-- her name was Lina! like me:) coincidence? I think not
Not a poem. Please, always wear your seat belt
( Emperor Menilik II)

An enemy
That covets
Your land, your
Gold-bestowed
Natural wealth
And your wife
Creating a strife
Stripping you of
Your liberty
And identity
Is all out
To mar your life!

This blatant aggression
Standing together
It is better we deter.

So, if intentionally
Or otherwise
On you, if
I might
Have posed
A grievance
To date,
I ask apology
Let us bury
The hatchet.

Among us,
An axe to grind
For a divisive wedge
An enemy cruel & wild
Must not find.

Thus, while
In full command
Of your health
If you fail
To march
To the front
I will take that
To the dignity of
Our sovereign nation
And me
An affront.

I swear to God
I swear to God
Up on return
There is
No restraint
My anger
My punitive
Measures against
Such malingers
Back to hold.

Of course,
We need
The prayer
Of the feeble
And the old,
The heavily-armed
Invading army
When we fight
Supper bold.

I assure you
By the grace
Of God
Victory for us
Is what
The future hold.

(The Chief of the provision wing)

Women of the nation
Pull your sleeves;
As provision
Dry food—
Roasted chickpeas
Roasted peas
Dry meat—
If you prepare
It will be good.
Also to boost
Immunity in
The original way
Prepare and ready
Garlic, red chili
And ginger
In a form of
A powder.

(The principal of transport)

Array pack animals
Provisions to transport
From every corner
Of the nation,
The palace
To the battlefront.
S/he who has
A horse or a mule
Must come along
With some hays
For its fuel.

(The master of musicians)

Take on board
Musical instrumentalists
Vocalists, who
War songs that chant
About victory
At hand not hesitant.

(Traditional Health Professionals)

Also take aboard
Women, herbalists
That will nurse
The wounded
Back into shape
Also the recuperating
To fight back
Who help.

(The logistic head)

Our resource gap to fill
While in the battle mill
We have to take along
Bullet swaggers
Ammunition repairers.
Utilizing such skill
Would allow us
With limited resource
More troops to ****.
This way
The cavalry
And infantry
Will fight
About logistic
With little worry.

(Menilik II)

Let us march
Let us march
To the place of
Showdown
To write
Golden history
Like Golead & David
That has no match!

Let us be
A standard bearer
If united
Freedom fighters
Could a giant enemy
Like Goliad deter.

On my sword
I have engraved
Menilik’s power
Is Almighty God
So behold
Those who pick
Against the peaceful
A sword
Will perish by
The sword.

About colonization
As I earlier grabbed
The import
I had accessed
Enough arsenal
Via the port.
If divide & conquer
Is their aim
With Ethiopians’
Oneness &unity
I will foil
Their game
They will have
Themselves to blame.

In the meantime
King Aba Jifar
Taking over inland
Maladministration, disorder
Will bar
In such a way
Ethiopians’ chemistry
Will be heard
Wide and far.///
Prior to the battle of Adwa
anastasiad Nov 2016
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Ivan Hernandez Sep 2013
Eli Bevier woke that morning at the crack of dawn, in the most distant state. The bed in which he slept wasn't of much comfort as he was used to his own bed. Eli was at a Military Hospital in Paris, he was discharged due to severe injuries he sustained in France during World War II, where he would spend the next six months recuperating. Though he tried to find comfort there, nothing really distracted his mind from thoughts of the army and what was happening in the world. Towards the end of his stay, he would often go on strolls to the nearby shops and offices to mingle and see what was of interest.
However, the one thing that kept a smile on his face was one of the nurses he had met while at the hospital. He thought she was elegant, funny, and charming as she had a way with her words. She was really kind and always tried to strike up a conversation as much as she could with him but was always sort of busy and they were never formally introduced. They did however write letters to each other, as he had in future relationships, she had told him that her grandparent’s farm was in the same city as Eli’s parent’s house. He loved that because he knew he could have a chance to wait for her and they could continue and meet once they both are sent home.
This never happened though as he later received word that the hospital in which the nurse was stationed in was hit by an enemy fire and bombed. He hated never knowing what could have been with the nurse. The hurt was so true but he knew life went on and as so he should too. When he would go back and recall this memory in later years, he would often feel bad at the situation but always remembered what his father had once said to him as a child, “There is never any use in crying over spilled milk.”

One evening he was walking past an old style shop, in which he saw the most extremely magnificent camera. At that time Camera’s were just beginning to dawn upon the world and develop into a greater extent. The shop keeper’s daughter, Margaret Wilkins, noticed him right away and worked up the courage to come over and talk to him. He on the other hand was oblivious to the fact that she had noticed him due largely in part to him being marveled by the camera and the items in the store. When he turned and saw Margaret approaching him, he felt a feeling.
That feeling we have all felt at one point or another. Stirring up inside as if you were some sort of melting ***, You know the feel. When you see a most beautiful and wonderful girl and you know that within you lies a special place in which only she can reside and your heart skips a beat. He didn't know what this feeling was, but one thing he was certain of was that he liked it. He knew that he had to think of something quick but his mind went blank and could not produce the slightest idea. “Hello there Welcome, May I help you in any way?” said Margaret.
But Eli just gazed at her as he tried to get a word out of his mouth but ended up getting lost in her gorgeous eyes. Again she asked “Is everything okay, sir? Do you need any assistance?” at which point Eli came to from his trance-like state and looking at the camera he was holding said “I apologize for being a goof just now, It’s just that you have such a wonderful eyes, I can only wonder as to the type of person you are, great I’m sure. Anyway, I’m Eli. Eli Bevier. I’m really interested in these items you have for sale. “Especially this camera.” he stated as Margaret walked over to his table and overlooked the camera, “It’s quite alright and thank you for the delightful compliment. Yes, as you can see we stock a fine selection of old world items and antiques. I myself fancy photography.” To which he replied “Is that a fact? You’re kidding! It’s apparent that we share at least that in common! Do you own any yourself?” he said as Margaret took the item over to the register and rang up the price.
“A couple, there’s this one that I have always wanted to get but haven’t gotten the chance, It was called the ‘Columbia Optical Co, Pecto 1’ it’s a neat little contraption. It’s really nifty it’s got a great lens and it’s just the perfect size for me”. “Thank you, you seem very kind, I hope to see you again sometime. I have an idea! May I have your address so I can maybe write to you? I might be stationed at different places so I might not get many chances to come back here.” He stated as he collected his things. “Why, thank you. You’re so kind yourself. Yes, that would be quite alright.” She wrote down her address and handed it to Eli. “Well I guess this is my cue. Bonsoir Mademoiselle!” he said and hurried along back to the hospital for he knew it was getting late and it would close its doors soon.
Two nights later, on the evening of the ninth of may, News had reached the hospital which said Eli was discharged and was going to be sent home immediately to which he took kindly to the news as he personally felt he wasn't ready for all that war going on. He had caught a flight back home to California early the next morning and was home by the end of that week. He was overcome with emotions when he returned to his life. His parents were proud of his achievements and for his service. Over the next few weeks, Eli did nothing but devote a majority of his time in job seeking, at first he didn't seem to have much luck as it was a time of despair for his country. The economy was barely beginning to make a recovery from the devastation and the wide-scale impact that the stock crash had left. He managed through it all by always remembering to write and send Margaret letters and cards. He enjoyed their talk’s, they would send poems as well. He soon found himself missing the woman so much, since she lived in France, he often contemplated re-joining the service. All the while the war still bombarding cites across the ocean and the globe itself, civilians were dying at a much more rapid pace as well as soldiers and enemy troops. Day and night the soldiers were on guard as many attacks would come without warning.  Back home, not finding much luck with work, he decided to pursue the army once again. He was accepted to serve again, and was sent to Spain for a brief period of time, after which he made his way back to Paris in an elaborate effort to track down the old style nostalgia shop and see Margaret. It was tough but Eli managed to find her and they met up on more than a few occasions, he had rented out a flat in the nearby neighborhood. The next few months, they met up and talked, and went out and just spent time talking among each other. By this time it was 1944 and the war was just about done. The young couple had made plans to stay in France and marrying, raise a family. He loved the idea. He couldn't wait to get out of the war and begin a new with the woman he loved. And as fairy tales go, they stayed put and eventually settled down having two children and owning various business and even a farm. He loved the decision he made and the person he chose to love, he couldn't have had it any other way.
Short story #2
Shadow Rai Jun 2010
...and I was running,
out of breath,
out of time,
nearly dead
my footsteps in perfect sync
with racing beats of my heart

His panting
amplified
over my
shortness of air
within reach, one attempt
to halt me in full stride

I **** left
into an ally
that I was sure
had two ways out
a near miss yet determined
to harvest from his prey

There were
cans dodged,
tramps hurtled
on every hasty turn
then a dead end, I slow
recuperating to inhale

“Was it left,
left then right?
Right, left
then right?”
As I turned to race once more
but, darkness had caught up

His breath
on me familiar
as I couldn’t
catch my own
and to no avail I struggled
growing limp in my attempts

I was his
for feeding,
subtly anguished
yet captivated
as he softly laid me back
exposing all that he was after

Madness rushes
through me
as his fangs
perforated lust
a cool hand neath my neck
draws me closer rhythmically

I’ve lost all strength
though want
to whisper
as he carries me away
“Please, do with me what you will.”
And I fade.
© 2009 By ♪Po3ticMi$tr3$$♫
Mateuš Conrad Oct 2018
takes about half an hour,
recuperating from
a night of drinking up to 5am...

hmm...

the playlist...
but just about two songs
inject a motivation into me...

Springsteen's born in the u.s.a.
and Megadeath's symphony
of destruction
...

and so the next day... begins...
with either of these two,
ushers.

p.s. ok ok...
concessions...
fine young cannibals'
she drives me crazy

and Billy Joel's
we didn't start the fire...

perfect *******
props for an impromptu
of jumping out of bed.
Trevor Blevins Sep 2015
When the shadows overtake me
I hope my throat is already slit.

/MERCY.

I've learned by now
That fast and painless
Is a concept of fiction.

It wouldn't matter
If you were to tear out my heart
Or rip out my spine,
It's all death just the same.

If you choose to take my life,
Don't take mercy into consideration,
Because mercy has been long lost
On those already rotting
In the graves dug in their minds.

/CONSUMPTION.

Peace from the darkness
Has taken the shape
Of your hand on the goblet,
With all my absolution taking the form
Of your loving embrace.

Let's build up our legions,
Show them the light in our gospel,
And convert them to our truth...

Such a beautiful proposition,
If we could work it out ourselves.

Wash over me with your holy sermon.

Let me absorb all your light.

Reconstruct all my arrogance
Upon the backs of the broken,
Just for the rare opportunity
For such a picture perfect landscape.

Monarchy never looked so stunning.

/EMPIRE.

Drowning is becoming an art.

Deeper and deeper
Into the depths do I venture,
All the while indifferent
To my lack of oxygen.

I'm plugging in plot holes.

I'm re-founding Byzantium,
And all for the iconography
That has left me
In such a state of marvel.

I don't want compromise
Or pity of any sort.

I just want you in tidal waves,
And to get pulled deeper
Beneath the whole of your personality.

In a modern world
So short on imperialism
Why was it so easy for you
To colonize my heart?

/TRANSLATION.

For the first time in years,
I need no translation.

I speak clearly, openly,
And without filtration.

She both listens and hears,
And that's not even the beginning
Of her infinite positive traits.

She's a modern masterpiece,
So above modern art.

I want to dissolve into her brilliance
If for even a moment.

/RECOIL.

I have nothing to fear.

I am the God of Death...
I am the shadows
That haunt even the deepest corners
Of my recuperating mind.

I'm gaining back the strength
To show the world once more,
That there are better, truer
Forms of evil in our control.

I am the culmination
Of the lives I have taken,
And now I choose to never
Be frightened by fate again.

I am the God of Death,
And now I choose to live.
SøułSurvivør Jul 2017
... for not being on site as much as I probably should be. Some of you may know I have been going through some very difficult times. I do not write about these to elicit sympathy. I only want understanding and compassion. Thank you for reading this entire post.

My father was recuperating well, but it's now flagging in his resolve to live. He has almost entirely lost his hearing. He's losing his eyesight. And now he cannot talk. He had to have a trach put in because his vocal cords were frozen and he couldn't breathe. He requires 24-hour care. He cannot return to the high-functioning home where he was staying before. He will now have to go into a nursing home.

It is very hard to witness this. He is a survivor of the battle of Okinawa. He is a survivor of stage 3 throat cancer. Chemotherapy and radiation treatment at the age of 85. He is now 92. I just don't know if he can survive this. I just need to remember he lived a long rich life.

The biggest problem I'm having is that I know my father is not prepared for eternity. He refuses to even discuss the concept of God. He's always been an Atheist. He is a chemist. A scientist. And he was hurt very badly by religion when he was growing up. I have sown seeds, though. Perhaps the Lord will come to him in a dream or vision. I just don't know...

No matter what happens I am prepared. It is just very difficult, and I cannot concentrate very well. Also I and spending a lot more time in my spiritual practices, so please forgive me if I'm not on the site as much as I could be. It does not mean I don't love you... there are people that are on this site who I pray for on a daily basis. I blanket this site with prayer. There are some who might not believe in the power of this, but I have seen miracles happen right here on this site. A young man was cured of malaria just a couple of weeks ago. Prayer is the most loving and powerful thing anyone can do for another person.
I DO IT FOR YOU ALL.

Thank you for reading.

♡ Catherine
A rose, they say, will have its thorn,
Which cannot harm nor ****,
It only serves to give its bloom
A scent that's sweeter still.

SøułSurvivør
(C) 12/23/2002

It's 1:30am. I must sleep. Goodnight! :)
Tracy Malloy Aug 2010
Hello you
Yesterday I had an epiphany about what you do
You have spoken about the hero-status of the uniform
And the depravity beneath it
However
However
The work, the career of rescue and disaster relief, whether from heaven or hell
Is heroic
I have saved lives
Battling uteri that would send the mother out the same door through which the infant just came
Wading through the sea of clotted blood
To find the flaccid muscle to hold death at bay
Have pumped hearts that lie quivering
Slapped and pumped infants with the fixed dilated pupil
And no matter the role we play in that
No matter
How tired it kills us
And how we find rejuvenation
It is heroic work
Even when we cannot bear the role any more
I have been recuperating from that job since you have known me
And I want to say I had forgotten the price.
And that you continue to pay the price of hero-work
The real price
August 4, 2010
Standing with her head low and shoulders slouched,



centered in open field of dying foliage, she stood alone in the pouring rain.



She held a bright yellow flower that nestled so gently in between her slender fingers.



Overcast skies, fill the atmosphere with grey and white towering columns of fluffy moisture.



Blue skies peek at out as the clouds mutate and morph moving along with the winds taking on new forms at every breeze.



Sun rays shoot through the an opening where the clouds part, beaming down below to the golden fields of hill, grass,



and the occasional tree; giving life supporting energy for only a few seconds until it quickly



gets covered by the onslaught of clouds. Shinning on her pale fleshfor that second



she felt the life providing sun permeate on her cold wet skin with warmth.



Rain still trickling down upon her face and flower close to decay,



the light reluctantly giving her the energy to lift her head with prowess.



She fixates her eyes deep out into the hilltops and the skies above,



where the light shed through; steadily recuperating from her desolate outlook before.



Noticing wonders and the rare beauty of her location, that she had given no mind to before.



Managing to reveal a smile she once held behind the clouds, forgetting completely that she was ever alone to begin.
I want you, no lie
Just not now
Not right now
Can't handle your madcap adventures
I'm still recuperating
Because I think your love broke my heart
Marco Jimenez Mar 2010
have you ever wanted something
something not for your eyes
something of beautiful tears
something of beautiful lies
something that envisions the seas
and encompasses the skies

have you ever wanted something
something you cant touch with your hand
something out of your reach
a vision that will soon come to an end
something that you need
something that has only your heart to mend

have you ever wanted something
something that you would put before your heart
something that symbolizes a new beginning]
something that symbolizes a new start
something that symbolizes a that missing piece
something that symbolizes a that lost part

have you ever wanted something so bad
lying
fighting
breaking the law
hurting
killing
taking no moral manner at all
realizing
seeing
what is your worst flaw
apologizing
crying
feeling bad enough to crawl
recuperating
regathering
standing back up tall
knowing
learning
what is the law
respecting
loving
only one and all
waving
saying
bye to your worst flaw

have you ever wanted something
something that you never reached
something you realized you dont really need
something that you would willingly help
and give air to breathe
but helping yourself
to continue to live and be free
- From The Strongest Among You
I am a helping arm at the ready, a friend that you can open up to; a shoulder you can lean on.

But please, my heart held in deep affection asks that you only be fair.

Settled mind tripping, no longer can I differentiate between compositions for the distinguished, and for the many. No longer I attempt, for pain lingers, waiting to pounce on me.

Please, as the lady my heart first throbbed for, don't leave my recuperating soul more perplexed as it already is.

My Lois Lane. My Maria.
It is only my heart's desire that you be loved... even if it has to come from someone else.
Your pieces send mix signals... I only ask that you be considerate about my feelings for you.
Marley Jane Feb 2014
I have a heartless soul
It all came together when you turned on me so cold
Gave you everything I had, everything I have you, you stole
I've finished recuperating from the pain
However the past is a history lesson
I learnt I'll never be the same
Anger you see through my eyes
My heart burnt
I was tied in the sky
You were a stain that wouldn't wash off
Love I gave you was despised
Stabbed me in the back
You cut through my heart
Gave me a heart attack
Came back to make sure you finished the job all the way through
My best I tried
I was tied in the sky.......
Left me all alone at night
Destroyed me
You became a vandal
Left me without preamble
Wasn't capable to occupy the state of being all alone in my mind
It was my life
But my cloudy eyes cleared up
My hands untied
And I realized
Theres Millons of others
You're just one......
Jayantee Khare Aug 2017
Here comes another night
to pause and end the day,
Dedicate the deeds to almighty, surrender right away!

Lucky you are to be alive,
to everybody, be grateful!
Everything is a blessing,
to nature, be thankful!

Dissolve in the darkness of
recuperating, regenerating night,
followed by reviving energizing
restart of another day bright..

Through another dreamy night,
to be with you to glide,
Call upon the angels
and your spiritual guide!!!
Night talks
judy smith Jul 2016
For some designers, fabric is the starting point of their collections. For others, it’s their initial sketches. But for Edda Gimnes, it’s neither. Or actually both.

The Norwegian born, London College of Fashion graduate begins by creating graphic drawings executed with her left hand though she is right-handed, and which possibly adds to their naïve charm. Blown up across canvas or reworked in fur, these drawings, inspired by an eclectic collection of found vintage photographs and objects, animate her living fashion cutouts. While this approach earned her more trouble than praise as a student, it has now paid off, earning her the 2016 Designer for Tomorrow title, sponsored by German specialty store chain Peek & Cloppenburg and its online shop Fashion ID, and this year under the patronship of Alber Elbaz.

Although Elbaz, who is recuperating from pneumonia, was not allowed by his doctors to fly to Berlin for the June 30 DFT show held during Mercedes-Benz Fashion Week Berlin, he was nonetheless most perceptibly present. Jury members all remarked how his hand — and his eye — could be felt in the cull of the first 15 finalists. Filmed the night before the show in Paris, his video welcome to the five finalists and the audience couldn’t have been more personal.

Watching the live-stream of the show, and together with the eight member jury board choosing the winner, Elbaz said he saw a lot of potential in Gimnes. “She captured my imagination and I’m keen to find out how her talent will evolve,” he said. The young creative will soon be meeting Elbaz in person, a trip to Paris to meet the designer the next step in the one-year sponsorship program.

Design competitions, like wine, have their good years and bad years, and this year’s DFT crop was especially strong. The other finalists included David Kälble, whose cross-cultural South African-inspired collection mixed fur trims and cable tie fringes; Elisa Kley’s ultra linear compositions; Marc Morris Mok’s geometry in motion (and Sponge Bob footwear) ideas, and Ancuta Sarca’s plasticized fashion wardrobe.Read more at:http://www.marieaustralia.com/long-formal-dresses | www.marieaustralia.com/red-carpet-celebrity-dresses
Satsih Verma Jul 2018
Only the bones will
tell, how tall you were
without flesh.

This was my bane.
All night I walked towards
the moon to locate you.

******* sound does
not die. I wanted to reach
unannounced near the fire.

This was pathological.
There was no prophecy.
Panic makes you a viper.

You don't become a
silver after passing through
the dark tunnel.
Praggya Joshi May 2018
I experienced love in the form of a disease
Which didn't felt too bad
When it was incubating
But then it slowly spread as an epidemic
Throughout my being
In the form of unkept promises
Contradictory actions
Weightless and later vile words
Lack of concrete commitments
Reluctance to compromise
Monstrous ego
Blighted dreams
Which wrecked havoc with my emotions
And caused terrible mental agony
While amplified carnal lust seared my body
And imparted a lasting soreness to it
I may not have succumbed to this disease
But I'm still recuperating and recovering
It has slayed my strength and desire to love again
Just a morass of tear Inducing memories
Is all I'm left with
Life love sad melancholy memories grief hurt
Michael LoMonaco Mar 2017
Sweat is produced by reason,
To achieve that point of results.

After strenuous miles on the obstacle course,
Fatigue stabs the nerves without remorse.

The body is bombarded by pain,
As cramps represent a threat to success.

Running with ambition on the track,
Risking safety by pride for the ultimate glory.

Self-discipline and good health will produce goals,
As recuperating on the sidelines can produce better outcomes.
Julian May 2023
https://www.dropbox.com/scl/fi/l8njruxa73yee9b0jzmhd/The-Ultimate-Unabridged-Guide-to-Esoteric-Working-English-2.docx?­rlkey=kunoar7ghpfkb7fjk5xkdgx95&st=i84ornny&dl=0

BALMORALITY OF GEOCARPY WEBBED FEET ANOINT AT THE TRIDENT OF POSEIDON SEES THE OLIVASTER MOULIN VEES OF  VARSAL GESTALT SALVATION AS CORNERSTONE CAPSTONES OF ARCHAIC ANTIQUITY BLEATING IN ANTEBELLUM FORESIGHT THE BLARING AMPHIGORY OF A THOUSAND TASTES OF LEPIDINE RAGMATICAL RANCOR DISSOLUTE ONLY IN ITS FORMULAIC WELKINS BY WALLFISH FREEBOOTERS CONSTELLATED BY THE STELLION STANCHION WHELVES ARMADA THAT SPARTANISM OF RENEWED POST-MODERN ****** CAN NEVER USE THERMOLYSIS IN THE SECRET ESOTERIC ARTS OF NIDAMENTAL NANOTECHNOLOGY THE FUTURE WIREWOVEN BELLETRIST OF ENCEPHALIZATION QUOTIENTS WIREDRAWN OVER HYPERBOLES OF MASCON GEOCARPY BECAUSE OF GEROSCOPY AND SENICIDE AMONG MANY A SPATHODEA ENLIGHTENED BY GHOST DANCE PERIBLEBSIS IN WILD WEST BILL CODY’S DAYDREAMS OF PRANCING NORDIC FLUMINOUS STREAMS OF DIVULGENCE OF RIVULATION FOR RUDENTURE IN JASPERATED JESUITICAL JARVEYS OF RECONAISSANCE OF THE TIGHT-LIPPED ALWAYS PHILANDERING WITH FIDELITY TO THE CLEPSAMMIA OF THE DEEPEST VEESES FOR THE MEHARIS OF MELLIFEROUS SPRITES OF OREAD DEMIURGES IN ZENKIDU BECAUSE OF DREDGED BEACHES AT THE EDGE OF TOMORROW BEATIFYING THE PRIMIPARAS OF INGENUITY LOLLOPED UPON THE QUEEN OF OSIRIS AND THE LAVADERO OF SET BECAUSE IN THE INTERRAMIFICATIONS OF SKELDER AMONG THE SKERRY THAT EXISTS BORDERING AN ATLANTIAN TRAVESTY BEMOANED BY BECHIC BEBLUBBERED INCONTINENCE OF LABORIOUS BEINGS OF SUFFRAGE AND TEETOTALER PREROGATIVES OF THE OCTAGON BENEATH THE VERY STREETS OF PALTRIPOLITAN SCHOENABATIC BARCAROLES AND CREMATION OF CARE BOHEMIAS THAT SPAWNED THE MYSTICISM OF PSEPHITIC PSEPHOLOGY BASED PRIMARILY ON BLESBOK CONTINUITY AGAINST TERMINAL TERMINUS THAT SHEATHES THE APPARATUS OF DIDDICOYS SPRAUNCY AND SPRUNG FROM EVERY GALVANIC TEMPLE INTO THE VOLTAIC PILES OF THE  ARENAIDAN SECRECY OF SUMPTER NOW DISTRAUGHT ABOUT THE NUCLEOTIDES OF SUNBITTERN OILERS WHOSE CARAPACE ANNIHILATES THE IONIZATION OF IATRALIPTIC MALFEASANCE REGISTERED AS YOUTHQUAKES OF YESTERTEMPEST BECAUSE OF YENTAS OF YUAN DENYING THE LACQUER AND EXCHEQUER OF JAPAN MIGHT WE CONVENE A BETHEL AGAINST EXORCISM AND MIGHT WE FIND THE FOSSORS OF A GUARDED TRUST OF FRATERNAL LAMBENT LIGHT OF THE NINE MUSES TRAPPED IN AEGEAN DRYGULCH BECAUSE OF THE LABYRINTHIAN PROWESS OF THOSE THAT BURROLED THE CONTRAPLEX TAMARAWS OF ALL DESTINY UPON THE SIPHON OF LATRIA BECOMING THE BANNER OF AGGIORNAMENTO BEYOND APARTHEID IN KNIGHTED SECRECY BECAUSE OF BROCKFACED ZUGZWANGS OF SCHWERPUNKT AND THE DEEPEST SALINE RESERVES OF AN INTERNATIONAL ORDER FOUNDERING IN ANTIQUITY OF EXACT SYCOMANCY BUT PARADED IN THE MARATHON CEREMONIES OF HALICARNASSUS AND ITS COAST GUARD YOUTH AUXILIARY FIGHTING THE PUNJABS TO STALEMATE AND FINDING THE MAINOUR THE CULMINATION OF ALL ACUMINATED WARS OF ATTEMPERED ASTRINGENT ATTINGENT PLEROMORPHY IN THE ENCEPHALIZATION OF ANTIQUITY TO THE DIVINE WILL OF ALEXANDER’S KOWTOW AND THE DEMISE OF ANCIENT CATAMITES BY THE FLEECED SWORDS OF CREATION RATHER THAN CREATIONISM IN THE SHALLOP OF SWASHBUCKLERS STALLED IN STALWART TIMES AGAINST INSUPERABLE ODDS BUT BY THE POWER OF CRYPTODYNAMISM IN THE ERA BEFORE PHILOTECHNICAL REVOLUTION AND THE MONOCULUS OF THE SEPHIROTH MIGHT THE BARNSTORM THESE DAYS BE BRAZEN AS A SERPENT PATROLLING THE PROMENADE OF LUXOR AND THE QUAKY REAL MADRID BRADYSEISM OF GUARDED DELTAS AND THE JERBOAS THAT FLAUNT AGAINST THIGMOTAXIS AN ABILITY TO CONGEAL AND COAGULATE COMMUNITIES THROUGH TAPESTRY AND TALENT MET SQUARE WITH “MARS VOLTA” LEXICOGRAPHY THAT EAVESDROPS LIKE A VANGERMYTE VAMPIRE ASSOCIATING WITH A JAPANESE ARMADA’S SYMBOLIC EMBLEM TO A MEJII RESTORATION WORTH DISCUSSING IN A CASEMATE STOKEHOLD BRITSKA DOOMSTER ECONOMY POISED FOR REVALORIZATION OF ALL ELEMENTS OF THE CRAFT SUBLIMINAL IN OBSCURE HINTS ABOUT THE SPELEOTHEM OF NEOTTIOUS SECRETS MOST EXCELLENT MASTERS WOULD NEVER DISCLOSE AT THE PERIL OF THEIR AVIZANDUM OF SENNET AND THEIR GUARDED THEATRICS OF RIGMAROLE AROUND THE GALLOPING HORSEMEN OF PROVENANCE AND PROVIDENCE FOR MANIFEST DESTINY AND THE FREER REPUBLICS TO EXCAVATE OVER AND OVER AGAIN THE SAME APOTHEGMS THAT BLACKGUARD THE SOCKDOLAGERS OF OBSCURE REVELATION SUCH THAT THE HYPERBOREAN CATALFALQUES WHO WITH DISMISSIVE LOUR AND FEALTY DESIGN AND DESIGNATE ABRAXAS ABOVE MATRIOTISM AND HONOR BEFORE VALOR THE GRAVE MISTAKE OF THOSE WHO DIG THE VERY GRAVES THEMSELVES IN OSSIFICATION OF BRONZED BEASTS OF SERPENTINE MYTHOLOGY OF AURIFEROUS JOLLYBOATS FROM TURPENTINE TIMES OF SMARDAGINE REGARDS FOR THE CODEX AND TESTUDO BRACKISH IN INTEMERATION OF A EUHEMERIST CHRISTIANITY THAT RECOGNIZES THE PLIGHT OF THE GODS OF OLD AND THE HISTORICITY OF STRUGGLE SEPTIFEROUS IN DEGREES OF SEPARATION FROM DIVINE LIGHT AND THE ANGLE OF THE SACRED FIRES OF “THE PLEASUREDOME” WHERE MEMPHIS RITES ARE DEALT LIKE DRUGS AND RAMPANT SKULLDUGGERY FOMENTS THE CAFE AND THE SALON INTO A FRENZY ABOUT FUTURITION IN THE NEGOTIOSITY OF NEGOCIANTS OF SUBLIME MASTERWORKS YET WRITTEN BY THE ADEPT HANDS OF BELLETRIST FOR THE RUPESTRIAN ACCORDION ZEAL OF THE FEWER PIONEERS OF HYPOGEIODY WITH THE GALL TO STAND PROMINENT AGAINST SVEDBERG TO LIBERATE THE NOSEBAG NOSTRUM OF SCARAMOUCHES OF AGGIORNAMENTO DERIVED FROM THE TRIBESMAN OF THE DISAGIO REGULA AND REGULATION BECAUSE OF SWARTHY ENMITY AMONG SPRINGHARE NOILS OF CRYPTODYNAMISM UNSPOKEN AND INEFFABLE TO A WIDER AUDIENCE OF ASPIRING APPRENTICES OF THE CRAFT OF A KRAFT CHEESE BOONDOGGLE SO DARING IN ITS PSITTACISTS OF GENERATIVE PRE-PROGRAMMED NETWORKS THAT THE APOGEE OF OUR CIVILIZATION IS ALWAYS CURTAILED BY THE CURGLAFF OF PRODIGAL SONS ENSNARED BY PEDERASTY RATHER THAN DOCILE IN HETERONORMATIVE DIRECTIVES OF RESCRIPT FOR THE VARIOUS PRESBYTERIES DISTANCING THEMSELVES FROM THE EQUIPOISE OF CRIME TO PUNISHMENT BUT ALSO TO LASSO A ZEAL FOR PRIMIGENIAL VARDLES OF SOVENANCE AND THEIR ENCOUNTER WITH STELLAR SPECTRUM DERIVED FROM PHASMOPHOBIA BECAUSE OF THE LURCHING TYRANTS OF FAMIGERATION EVEN IN THEIR CABOTAGE MIGHT THEY SAIL LAVEERING AGAINST HEADWINDS OF CATASTROPHISM AND MAXIMALISM BOTH CONVENTICLES OF A QUACKERY OF CHARLATAN ORDERS WHO DEBATE ENDLESSLY OVER SYCOMANCY ONLY TO FIND THEIR FAFFLE INCONSEQUENTIAL IN THE SIGHT OF THE ABRAXAS OF ABAXIAL ANACHORIC TREASURES OF THE EXODUS THAT PARENTS THE FIRSTBORN RATHER THAN TURNS THEIR NIDOR INTO NEPIONIC ENSLAVEMENT BECAUSE NEITHER AN ENNOMIC DEGREE OR DECREE NOR A CAESARAPROPISM UPON THE EARTH FORMIDABLE IN NOMOGENY BECAUSE OF THE SLIPSLOP OF SLICKENSLIDE CLOTURE AND CLOUT OF THE GENEROSITY OF MIKE BOSSY BOSE PRIOR TO THE INVENTION OF BASS ITSELF AND BEFORE ACID HAD ITS PROMENADE HEYDAY ON THE STREETS OF INTERNATIONAL ACCORD RECUPERATING FROM DEVASTATING CONFLAGRATION A RECUMBENTIBUS FOR THE SHANGHAIED RIVERS THAT FLOW FROM COAST TO COAST AND THE MOUNTAINS THAT TOWER ABOVE SPHACELATED ARTIFICE TO DISCOVER SPIRACULATED WISDOM IS SOPHROSYNE AND MODEST IN TEMPERAMENT LIKE THE READY PLAYER ONE ACQUEST FOR PALATABLE CONTROL OF CEPHALIGATION YET INVENTED BUT ALWAYS DISCLOSED AGAINST THE SUMPTER OF FETED AND FATED TRAPEZES OF THE LOST ARTS OF THE LOST COVENANTS AMONG MEN AND AMONG THEIR FRONT-RANK REAR-GUARD TUMESCENT TONGUE TONGUE-TIED BY MATHEMATICISM TOO LENIENT TO EXPOSE THE TRICKERY OF THE RETINA NOR THE RETINACULUM OF THE GARDENS POISONED BY CHINA WHITE RATHER THAN CHINA AS WE SASHAY INDIRECTLY FROM LONGINIQUITY OF INSULAR BASTIONS OF FORTIFIED ROORBACKS OF PREHISTORIC MERIT AND ABDERVINE MOVEMENTS CONVERGENT UPON THE OMPHALISM OF SOCRATIC PROMACHOS LIVING IN THE CLIFFS OF DOVER (A MISNOMER THAT FEW MASONS WILL UNDERSTAND) BECAUSE WHEN WE FLOUT THE SPANISH ARMADA AND  DISCOVER THE TRIBULOID LIES OF BERLINE SYNCOPATION OF HETEROCHRONY WE FREE OURSELVES TO SEE A FORDED RIVER NEVER BOLDER AND A MAGICAL RECIPE ALWAYS PROSCRIBED. LET THE MYSTICISM OF OUR AGE HEARKEN THE PARAGONS OF ANCIENT GREECE AND THEIR COUNTERPARTS IN ROME WHO OVERSAW A WORLD IGNORANT TO THE ISRAELI COVENANT AND WORLDS APART FROM “THE GIRL IS MINE” JOCKEYING JOCKOS OF JESUITICAL JANIZARY AFFILIATION THAT PREFER TO BURY THEIR SECRETS TO SUCH  A GREAT DEPTH OF BAROMETRIC PRESSURE THAT FEW FORCES ARE HERCULEAN ENOUGH TO DISCOVER THE LITURGY OF THE SECRET RITES AND THE VAULTED PRESERVATION OF THE OLIVASTERS OF FORMER DAYS THAT STILL SURVIVE UNALTERED IN A WORLD GOVERNED BY A RESOURCEFULNESS IN BOTH REPUBLICS AND AUTOCRACIES BECAUSE THE SYBOTIC SONDAGE OF THE TURTLEBACK IS THE SIGNATORY SLAVERY OF CHAVISH AMONG THOSE THAT CAROM PROFOUND TRUTHS IN TWADDLED DISMAY FOR MAYDAY CONFLAGRATIONS OF RAPID EMERGENCE AND IMMERGENCE INTO AN ORDER OF SOCIETY OF ISONOMY AND IXIODIC RESIDUE OF THE CORTEGES THAT ARE ENUMERATED ONLY AT THE BEHEST OF THE VERY FEW THAT THE PROPER NAMES AT ANY MASONIC LODGE ARE NEVER PUBLICLY SPOKEN AMONG THE FELLOWCRAFT BECAUSE ONLY THE TRUEST MASTER MASONS DESERVE TO KNOW HOW OUR PAST IS AN EISOPTROPHOBIA AND OUR FUTURE IS AN EISOPTROMANIA BUT DON’T BELONG TO THE PHASMOPHOBES AGAINST THE GHOST DANCE NOR PARALYZED BY THE PRIVILEGE OF VENOSTASIS AND NEVER ACCUSE ANOTHER MASON OF RHEOTAXIS IF HIS UPRIGHT APRON AND HIS WAMPUM BRACELET STARRING THANKSGIVING MEGACERINE MELEAGRINE STERQUILINIAN ARTIFICE THAT HAS CORRUPTED THE ROT OF PENTAPOLISES DEFEATED ONLY BY THE INGENUITY OF THE RURAL SATELLITES TO ORBIT IN SECRECY AND VALOR TO SUSTAIN THE REPUBLIC AND SCAVENGE LIKE NEOPHRONS IN MEMPHIS TENNESSEE JUST AS MUCH AS MEMPHIS EGYPT THE TRUE NECKLACES THAT COMPORT SOLEMN GIFTS IN GRAFT TO THE HARANGUE OF DISTANT PRESIDENTS BEFORE OUR TIME HANDICAPPED NEVER BY FORESIGHT BUT BY CULPABLE NOMOGRAPHY CREATING A DIESTRUS OF THE SACRED FIRES AND THE SACRILEGE OF ALEXANDRIA BESET BY THE ASPS BITE AND THE DESTRUCTIVE ALLEGIANCE OF CHUCKY AGAINST THE WISDOM OF THE WIDEST POSSIBLE VARSAL PERSPECTIVE OF HUMAN GEOSELENIC AFFAIRS IMAGINED BY THE SCRIVELLOS OF MEN OR THE ONOLATRY OF PALM SUNDAY COLTS RIDING DONKEYS TO PISCIFAUNA AGAINST NEW JERSEY DEVILED EDISONS WHO IN DISHONOR BUT ELITE GRAFT BECAME A FORMIDABLE LOCOMOTIVE OF INDUSTRIALIZED GALVINIZATION BECAUSE OF THE NAUCLATIC PACTS OF PEACE UNDERGIRDING THE GRANNARY GRAVAMEN IN THE BIG DIG BARTONS SWASHBUCKLING WITH RANCOR IN RANCID TRUCULENCE AMONG THE HISTORICITY OF A NEW ENGLAND TROLLOP OF DESICCATION IN A MAIDAN LAND OF ESBATS PERSECUTED BECAUSE OF FRENCH EMIGRATION THE EXODUS OF FORMER WARS MIGHT THEIR CRUCIBLE BE THE LITMUS TEST OF THE LIMITS OF OUR NEWFOUND CHRISTIAN EUHEMERISM AS WE LEARN THE CONVERGENCE OF THE CUNEIFORM CODEX AND THE LEVERAGE OF AUTOMATION FOR AUTOMATONS SILKALINE IN PRESTIGE AND GUZZLED BY THE GLAMOUR OF REPARTEE IN STAGED DOWNFALL AND STARLET MUSES OF ATHENAEUM AGAINST THE HEBENONS OF WAYSPAYED MULIEBRITY FIGHTING A WEGOTIST WAR AGAINST THE SOVENANCE OF TURNVEREINS OF TRUTH THAT ARE THE TORCHIERS OF THE AGES SUNKEN IN HARBORS AND ELEVATED IN INTREPID COURAGE AMONG THE HIGHEST PEAKS AND THE MOST PROFOUND DEPTHS OF HUMAN IMAGINATION FOR CAGOULES TO WHIMPER IN THEIR WHIFFETS OF BORTS THAT BECOME THE SATINETS PRIMARY OBSESSION WITH REGAL MATTERS PERTAINING TO EL PASO COUNTY INVITATIONS TO A BRIGHTER MORE PROSPEROUS FUTURE OF FORESIGHT AND GENIUS GILDED BY THE MATRIOTISM OF ALL CONVEX TIMES ANGLED DOWN IN AAONMS GRADGRINDS WHO PARSE THE PARSECS THAT SEPARATE US FROM THE COMMODORES BECAUSE THE SLEEK HINTS OF INTIMATION ESCAPE REVIEW BECAUSE THE BRONTEUM OF ALL SINECURES OF SYNCLASTIC TRUTH FAVOR THE UNDEFEATED STREAKS OF SPRAWLING ARCADES AND GLORIFIED STATUETTES SPIRALLING IN VERTIGINOUS DANCES AROUND THE TEMPLES OF PARIS TELEGRAPHED BY THE NOBILITY OF BUTCHERED LUKEWARM TAUNTS AGAINST THE BELLETRIST OF PROVINCIAL FOREIGNERS GIFTED WITH TURQUOIS VIOLENCE AND PURPLE REIGN THAT  ANOINTS EVERY GENERATION ABOVE ITS PEDIGREE AND FINDS THE 17 HORNS BLOWING TO BE LESS OF A KNELLED NUISANCE AND MORE OF A GRAVID DISCOVERY OF INCUBATIONS AND WEATHERBOARDS OF METEORIC SHAMBLES SPIRACULATED IN SAUNA DEPTHS OF BRACKISH CATADROMOUS GOLDMINERS WHO PARLAY THE BEST OF TWO BETS UPON THE PAXILLOSE TRAVESTY OF WOODED COCARDENS WHICH WALLOP EVERY JALEO OF STEVEDORES BECAUSE OF THEIR HANDSPIKE JARABES OF BAISEMAN AND COMPASS AIMING TRUE NORTH AWAY FROM THE LUNACY OF SOUTH PARK TURGID TURMOIL OF TELAESTHESIA IN THE FORMATIVE DURESS OF THE CONATION OF THE GREATEST OF PEAKS ESTABLISHED BY THE SPIKENARDS AND IRENARCHS OF THE GREATEST OF SUBTLETIES BECAUSE THE GILD OF SIRIUS RADIO AND THE SUBTERRANEAN MASKIROVKA OF WHIGGARCHY FIGHTING WITH SEMPERVIRENT TIMBERLASK GLOCHIDATE PUNITIVE RAISONNEURS MIGHT THEY ALL DEVISE WAYS TO SEE THE SYRINX OF THE EMBEDDED GALLANTRY OF DISASTERS THAT TURNED ICE INTO WATER AND THE CHEMISTRY THAT TURNS WATER INTO THE MOST RAREFIED WINE. SOME MIGHT ACCUSE THE ***** OF SABOTAGE IN HIS DEFECTED RECORDS SPREE OF  CEREAL KILLER DEMIURGES FOR THE FREEBOOTERS OF MANY A PRISON YET LIBERATED BY THE ELEUTHEROPOMANIA OF CACOETHES OF KANTIKOY IN THE MEGALOGRAPHY OF MANY GENERATIONS. WE ENTERTAIN A DIVERSE ARCADE IN ARCADIA BECAUSE THE BEHEST OF THE KNOWLEDGE OF THE ANCIENTS IS A QUIBBLE OF EPHESIANS TRYING THEIR BEST TO GAMBOL THEIR WAY INTO NUMBATS OF THE GREATEST VIRTUOSITY BEAMING AND BEAMISH OF FATIDICAL RESIGNATION OF THE MOFUSSIL TRIAD TRIAGE OF SUMPTERS OF SCURFY SCRAP METAL EMBEDDED IN THE RICHES OF THE CALUMET MOUNTAINS MOUNTED BY MOUNTEBANK QUARTERBACKS OF SIMPATICO RATHER THAN REVANCHE REGELATION PRIMARY TO THE COLOR-CODED SMARDAGINE PROVENANCE OF ALL PROVIDENTIAL MEN SERVING THE GLORY OF GRAND ARCHITECTS OF THE LOST SERENADE AGAINST JIMSWINGERS OF URBACIOUS AND ULMACEOUS POVERTY AGAINST TEXAS (VERY OBSCURE HINT YOU WON’T FIGURE IT OUT) BECAUSE THE GOLDEN BADGE OF THE HONOR OF A NEWFOUND WAPENTAKE DECIDED DECISIVELY BY A NETHERLANDS SPRITE FINESSING MORAL FIBER AND RECOILING IN TRAMONTANE GILDS THAT ANTICIPATE WITH ARCEATE OCREATED FASHIONS KNEADED TOWARDS A SELF-FULFILLING BELL MIGHT THE APPROPRIATION OF THE TACO BY THE CRACKLING THUNDER OF CACOMISTLES AND CREAKY CREANCERS OF CLITTER RATHER THAN CETACEAN CLOTURE BECAUSE THE RUNAGATE PERSECUTIONS OF PURITAN PILGRIMMAGE ARE DESOLATE WASTELANDS OF IMPROPER DECORUM FOR WARBLING TILTS OF RUMOR AND ROORBACK TO ZEPHYR THEIR WAY FROM THE VERSAILLES TO THE WALDOLF ASTORIA (OBSCURE HINT) BECAUSE OF THE SAD SPATTEES OF THE REAL-LIFE HINDENBURG WHICH SAILED TOWARDS AN UNFORESEEN CONVALESCENCE RATHER THAN A QUAGMIRE OF QUAHOG INFAMY RETICULATED VERY DEFTLY AND WITH ABARTICULAR VENGEANCE THE NEWER VENDETTAS OF EBBERMAN TRYING TO SECURE THE OBELIZATION OF OBELISKS ONLY TO TITANISM RATHER THAN TO SELF-REALIZATION OF A CELLULAR WORLD BUILT ON SILKALINE SATINETS TO PERUSE THE SALON AND CRAVENLY RIVET EVERY SUBSIDIARY ECONOMY TO THE LEVERAGE OF NEW WORLD CONQUEST MEETING OLD WORLD ASTROLOGY BECAUSE MYTHS OF DWARVES AND TITANS MARK THE ESCHATOLOGY OF “24K MAGIC” BECAUSE WE WANDER AGAINST WASMS OF WOODSHEDDING TO THE PARVENUS OF THE ARRIVISTE IVORY RATHER THAN THE COUNTERFEITER IVORRIDE OF BRAWNY RASP AND SIDEREAL ACCORD TO THE ZITHER AND FLUTE OF THE NINE SISTERS LOUD ENOUGH IN THEIR BLATTERNOPHONES THAT THEY AWAKENED THE ENLIGHTENED AGE THAT ONCE ONLY SKIRMISHED LIKE TIGERS ROARING IN TUBIFACIENT DELIRIUM MIGHT THEY CHANCE UPON THE BORTS EMBEDDED DEEP WITHIN THE SUBTEXT OF ARTEMIS AND THE CONQUEST OF THE PUNJAB BY THE ABEYANCE OF ROERICH BECAUSE OF THE REVOLUTIONARY ZEAL OF ALL-SEEING-EYE PREROGATIVES SWAMPY AND SCAPPLED AROUND RECIPIANGLES OF RECTANGULAR OBLATION AND NUTATION IN IMMATERIAL METEMPERICAL PHILOSOPHY OF UNNATURAL LAWS OF SARANGOUSTY AGAINST THE SCHMEGGEGY OF THE AGGRY AND AGRARIAN PERSIAN KNIGHTS WHO USED THE BRITSKA MAGI AND THE WISE SERVANTS OF THE KINGDOM OF THE NORTH AGAINST THE KINGDOM OF THE SOUTH TO AVENGE THEIR SEPARATE PEDIGREES BECAUSE THEY SOUGHT THE IMMORTAL WORD OF AMARANTHINE TRUTH AND THE ANACAMPSEROTE OF VIVID REVETS MIGHT THEY INCUR FEWER WINDS OF DAMAGE IN THE CARCASS OF POMPEII THAT CAESARS REJOICED ABOUT EVEN AT THE CUSP OF CATACLYSM BECAUSE THE SPRINGHARE NOOSES AND NOILS OF NAVES OF NAVARCHY BELONG TO THE SUNDOG JEREMIADS AND TALES OF THE GREATER BULK OF RESIGNATION. WE FIND OURSELVES FLUMMOXED AT THE DEMARCHE OF THE IDES BECAUSE OF THE JALOUSIES AND JEALOUSIES OF THE SCHISM THAT OCCURRED IN VENDETTA FOR QUAKY GROUND AGAINST THEOSOPHIES HOISTING STANLEY CUPS AND STANNARY COPIES OF THE ORIGINAL ARTIFACTS OF GREED AND OPPORTUNISM WHICH FORTIFY ALL MAINLINED  ECONOMIES AGAINST GILVARINGE HEDONISM WHICH SPURTLES ON CATALLACTIC CORDWAINERS WHO SERVE ON THE COUNCIL OF ATHENA BRONZED LIKE ZEUS UPON OLYMPUS MIGHT THESE VERY OBSCURE DETAILS LEAD TO THE WILDEST GOOSE CHASE UNLESS THE REAL GRAVITY OF SLAPSTICK CONFUSION THAT BELIES THE STEPNEY OF STEMSON BY THE STULMS THAT STOPE THE PERIPHERY OF ALL STARS AND THE PENULTIMATE DEGREES OF ALL CARREY ROYALTY TO THE SOCIETY OF THE SCIENCES OF WHITTAWERS THAT PAVED THE WAY FOR MIRACLE ABOVE JUSTICE RATHER THAN TRUMPETED DIKEPHOBIA SWARMING AN OCEAN OF HOLOBENTHIC THINKERS INFORMED OF THIS ZEITGEIST BEYOND THE PURBLIND UMBRILS OF THE PETULANT TEENS WARRING AROUND BEEHIVES OF FLAMBOYANCE BECAUSE OF A MISINTERPRETATION OF THE ALLEGORIES OF PRODIGAL SUNS AND SONS SET FREE BY GREEN-EYED LADY KNOWLEDGE THE GATEWAY TO THE MASTER VARDLE AND THE ACCESSIBILITY OF MOHAWKS WITH FURRY EVAPORATIONS AND THE FEATS OF ANTIQUITY WE CELEBRITIES CELEBRATE WITH ZANYISM AND ZEAL AGAINST THE ZEKS OF PARVANIMITY IN A WORLD STULTIFIED BY ARTICLES OF PRESS AND IMPRIMATUR ABOUT STILTED MECHANISMS OF COVERT VITRAILS OF THE VARSAL PROBABILITIES OF CATACLYSM AGAINST THE ATROCITIES OF ABAXIAL VOLTINISM OF CATASTROPHISM FOR NAGORS AND NACREOUS SECRETS THAT ONLY THE TRIBUNES OF LIGHT AND THE DAWNING ACCORD OF ADVENT AND PARCEL TO THE CONVENIENCE OF ROYALTY IN APANAGE MIGHT WE FAFFLE THROUGH SERVITUDE AND BECOME FEWTERERS OF A MIGHTIER HUMANITY THAT OVERCOMES THE QUIDLIBERTARIANS BECAUSE OF THE BROCKFACED BRONCHOS THAT EXISTS BECAUSE OF BRADYSEISM AND VANDYKES OF WALDFLUTE INDEMNIFICATION OF THE CODED VERSE OF A NEWER NOSTRADAMUS ISSUED WITH HINDSIGHT BETTER THAN A 1001 ARABIAN KNIGHTS BECAUSE THE MAGI OF FRANKINCENSE AND MYRRH KNEW THE HUMILITY OF THEIR STATURE BECAUSE OF THE DIVINITY AND GENTILITY OF EPHESIAN VECTIGALS OF EXTRAVAGANCE AND WONDER BECAUSE OF PETRIFIED THUGS LEARNING THE WAYS OF MODERNIZATION THAT THEIR DEAD TEMPLES AROUSE IN THE KNAVERY OF MEN BOTH DEAD AND LIVING. WE MUST ALL UPHOLD THE SINUOUS PEDIGREE OF AARON BURR BECAUSE THE FRIGOLABILE ELEMENTS OF WANCHANCY HAVE A NASTY HABIT OF RECRUDESCENCE AND RECIDIVISM BECAUSE IN SOME CONTRAPLEX RATIOCINATION WE FIND THE CELTIC BRIBE INSUFFICIENT FOR ILASTICAL CREDENDA BECAUSE THE METAGNOMY OF BARAGNOSIS AFFLICTING THE SOPITERS OF REGAL LORE AND LEGEND AND THE MAGNA CARTA REVOLUTION THAT USHERS US TO BIG BENJAMINS AND THE HEAVIEST OF QUANDARIES BRITTLE AT REDSHORT RESONANCE BECAUSE OF NEUTROSOPHY AT NEUTERED DISTANCES OF REGARDANT ARTIFACTS THAT THE PATIENT LIONIZATION OF THE TRUE CONOSSIEURS OF THE THOMAS CROWNE AFFAIR MIGHT FIND THEMSELVES STRANDED BY SUBSIDIARY DETAILS BECAUSE OF THE REGIONAL FANFARE OF LURID TRIUMPH AGAINST LAVISH PROMONTORIES OF CRAGGY  PEDIGREE GROWING INTO LICKERISH LICENSE THAT SPAWNS THE ANACHORIC RHEOTAXIS BECAUSE OF THE VULPECULAR MACROPICIDE OF THE ENTOMBED LOVE AND MOTION OF CINEMATIC TRIAGE AND TRIUMPH OF TRUE MESSIANIC VISION BOLTROPED TO BOLAR CONTINGENCIES OF THE CALVOUS MANY UPSETTING THE MERIT OF THE CHIVALRY OF THE FEW EXCLUDED FROM PRESBYTERY AND SANCTUARY BECAUSE OF INSUFFICIENT MEANS RATHER THAN INSUFFICIENT ENDS TO ACHIEVE ENTELECHY THROUGH AUTOGNOSIS. AMEN
A rose poem
A walking cobbler came to Yasmin valley
That had a small brook with swimming ducks
Even though since everyone wore clogs
He decided to settle down in this pleasant vale

The cobbler was educated in Frankfurt and
As we know the Germans are astute workers.

Recuperating after hitting his knee on a boulder
On a bed of Yasmin, he reclined and fed by maidens
Some inhabitants came to him with clogs as a gift
Exponentially happy he cried and was a happy man.
Grim! Grim!!
My heart felt a heavy grudge
Portraying a mean beastly Face
With my dimmed eyes wishing darkness
As I rolled relentlessly

Then I ask myself
Was "tick tick" the problem
Or last night joyful frustration

Although last night
I was ****** and drunk
Over a wasteful time spent
Smoldering over a lustful path
I wished to be  a lovely realm

Struggling with this unfortunate outcome
That is hovering a fruitful new day
Borne of a cloudless smile
Of a worn-out fellow
That needs a head on.

Mama call always gets the magic
As if it was a mirrored moment.
The recuperating strength in her voice
Bleached my insanity
That would have devour me.

With a smiley outlook
Staring at the crowd of being
Projecting a mixed feelings
Full of love, peace and inspiration
Woken by a precious momma.
Turing a darkness to light
Disclosed just enough,
that I recognize I will never
have closure.

Stillness under blanket;
while frantic thought sparks fire,
marching toward the center
of sensation, like taste and
memory.
Even as the firestorm subsides,
there seems one ember
found purpose.
A wick the end of candlewax
transformed to life,
past ear canals and sight lines.


One light in an exponentially
growing darkness;
no shadows to speak of, or through.
No!
This light is for voyeurs
perverse enough in theory
to hypothetically pose quandaries
as to why, "...that light still
flickers and glows."

Head motionless on pillow;
a congregating group of bodies
assemble themselves upon rolling
bluffs, conjured by trips
yet materialized.
They murmur to each other,
their own perfect language.

You'd think the noise would ruin
this delicate silence, but it's
quite the opposite.
Their soft utterances act as
a breezes finger tip, touching
new resolve into the leaves
decorating the tree of life;
rustling ever so gently,
each one individually so the
branch doesn't move. That
would be far too much commotion,
and the wise owl needs not
a feather ruffled.

Just the leaves;
whisking a few away,
they never fall, they never stay.
Just fly along the currents
of your breath;
all this movement in rhythm
with a vehicle still recuperating.
The corners of the mouth pull
upwards, towards the tops of
ears, nostrils flare as if the
body is there,
but isn't it?
An emancipated feather moves
vociferously across glass tops,
making not an imprint,
but instead playing the tune of love,
joy, and prosperity.

In a library full of picture books,
and worn tennis shoes that lay beneath
monikers which are announcing timelines,
and referencing emotions;
the feather feverishly scribbles,
but not a word is written.
The doors swing open,
the light punctures the tranquility,
the ****** is being ripped away
watching as everything drops,
now simply motionless.
This is what it was like when
we used to sleep.
PairedCastle Mar 2018
Ants they fall
It makes you want to cry
They stumble by the step
Hooray! It's nothing but an embrace
only to find themselves recuperating, again
Finding the route, the smell, the line, their goal
ah! A biscuit ~ don't you dare fall
Sometimes Starr Aug 2021
Conviction sits queasy
In my guts and bones.
My stomach is
A bag of bolts.

A bleeding brain with stilts for legs
Neglected tissue wilts away
Misgivings and mistakes--If I truly loved you
I'd be better able now

When the nausea turns to shame
Just give yourself a better name
God's tide still pulls my shoulders back
Even when my flesh has turned.

And God's tide lifts my spirits up
Even with some scrapes and burns

Your strength astounds me,
I will wait
For you to come
And seal my fate.
'Course as a grim teller of tall tales,
(albeit poetic) reasonable rhyming
quasi roundelay I readily admitted to feign
cuz, stringing words together with
pride and prejudice plus
sense and sensibility, jocularity,
and conformity I dissed deign
(spoiler alert) iamb, trochaic,

dactylic, and anapestic metrical reign
jest your ordinary garden variety
dollar short day late dime a dozen
penniless citizen banker Abel and Cain,
yet mine mean mien blithely, daringly,
fatuously, ludicrously, nauseatingly,
pretentiously playfully urbane

many (if not all readers)
will **** sitter
yours truly harmlessly insane,
whose feeble attempts
to wax and wane
oft times falls flat (splat goes Matt)
as if dropped out plane,
without a parachute

instantly recuperating while lain
supine (winded, but...
none the worse) asthma brain
suffers concussion, confusion, contusion
actually, immediately, and unexpectedly
knocked fluent German speaking ability
within germane guy verständlich?

If ye really comprehend
trademark non Turkish gobbledygook
then explain (using
language of least familiarity),
but best to commence
with eye catching hook
impossible mission
apt lit pupils (mine)

to evade even momentarily
riveting, spellbinding,
and transfixing look
courtesy ingenious way
with word ye snook
cored me and took
wind out my sails.

Nor could I breakaway courtesy automobile,
cuz 2009 Hyundai Sonata
would not start... yea for real,
thus finding me ready to yoke
neck (think gibbet) each heel
dangling as body goes limp
blessedly, finally, happily
ridding me of any/all hangups,
one less goo goo gaga born this way
poker face cards for him to deal.

UNGABLUZUM describes this schlemiel!
These people meet so effortlessly
When will I make contact
With somebody
The universe sends signs
I am the only one it denies
Now I have an opportunity
To bring my ideas to light
How will I leave the dark
I need a place in this city
Satsih Verma Dec 2020
When moon was becoming
bipolar, you were recuperating
painful love by black magic.

To bring down sun's
corpse, I kiss your song, so that
rainbow kills the clouds.

Let's go to the land
between two rivers and collect
Babylon jewels for ever.
I can keep remembering the memories
That should be trapped inside, in cupboards
That keep more welcoming things like custard powder and baking soda
It's all written on the grocery list of week's work
My workingman's dead
You do not have one of the things, or feelings
On the list of items meant for non-believers who hang like non-living things
Having their own non-living features and redeeming ways, still recuperating
Have we lost our ways, or I keep asking myself have I forgotten anything
If I can't title my desires and compartmentalize them, in closets meant for clothes
These are what I wear, revealing some cracks in the deep-ends
Broken places and war, you're stuck just like the rest of the thespians who seek purpose
Is it just an act, or am I looking at the story unfolding?
Cyclone Dec 2019
Recuperating till exuberant, this two in two is new and numerous, what is humorous is that I never knew what humor is, till I blew the few and luminous lamps in voluminous camps, can I ever get amped if I'm cramped, this stamp on my vamp is a walk in the fuzz, never do I halt till my faults start the buzz, cause these confusing thoughts learn to fuse me lost, uses me a lot, so as soon as I'm distraught, I look at me as you and then assume that we are caught, will duplicates make due for this to prove I grew and sought, and spot me as hot then swap me from knots, I seen my dreams had locked what I got was a flop, popped so I stopped, props dropped so I hissed, even though I'm ******, from the jump, I wasn't ****, hit by the spit of the twists in two, you never get a grip when a scripts' your cue.

— The End —