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PolttimoOlen
Tiger, Tiger burning bright, / Sat b'twixt a ghoulish plight. / Will it scupper? Will it sow? / Will it flash amidst the snow? / / Born a'time a'lost in wonder / Plundered foolish lines a sunder; / Hot Cross Buns, peer and sigh / For Tiger Tiger caught their eye. / / Plagiarised abreast demise, / Rising horror to summise: / Hopeful no-one ponders crime; / For Tiger Tiger ain't my rhyme. / / Will.I.Am 'Hot Tongues' Spake
Coincidence makes sense only with you: Each time your vision beholds my mind falls eschewed. Grounded as cascades of the new intensify shadows surrounding gall. Wight wrought thoughts call, haunted emblems intrude; fractured gleams of beamed brilliance retreat to beats of swallows and groans. Sighs accrued collide with entombed chaos in demise; searing bright flashes amidst seascapes dark, burn wounds cauterise heart murmers. Aris- ing proffers perplex vexed-descending arc; Sweating palms, butterfly flutters, deplete, or so it's wished, sketched by movements sublime; shimmering waterfall pooling divine.
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Dec 24, 2020
Dec 24, 2020 at 2:02 PM UTC
Sonnet 141
warm presence entwined in slow movements hair brushing in idle amusement, a breath tracing time as it rolls put sublime, and enshrines in divinely formed fusions.
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Dec 24, 2020
Dec 24, 2020 at 1:58 PM UTC
Lazy Daze
Your voice is the light of my morning I wait for you love without warning to feel your warmth like the star guiding north is the course of the universe dawning.
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Dec 24, 2020
Dec 24, 2020 at 3:54 AM UTC
Morning Song
Beneath blue swept skies, where the sunset dies, and the black flocks score winds fall, Where the orange red wings of the dead birds singe, and the gem stones scorch and call, Mustered hoofbeats rise, Scuttled whims devise, banded battles broker ball, Tiny steps clipping skips of stones, final breaths stripping souls from thrones.
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Dec 23, 2020
Dec 23, 2020 at 4:55 PM UTC
Last Leaf Tango
Soft footsteps catch stones touch. First to death: cold clammy crutches flow underneath. Lent support sundered; sowing last few breaths. Deafening thunders storm from heaven's sent. Lost last shrugs of heart's pace, pursed lips rock hard, bending to face throes of ****** bleeding heart beckons growing perjured shock. Reckoning threatens dorment gods heeding. Blue river out of sight carries shorn west, leading sapped might to calmer nest. Broken vestments rinsed, cleaned by a pricked thorn, form adorned by glimpse of sublime's spoken. Crystal streams twinkling Dazzled dreams bring tears; Blissful moods sprinkling soulful's dance through spheres.
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Dec 23, 2020
Dec 23, 2020 at 4:54 PM UTC
Derived Sonnet
I remember the T.T on the front screen tv, I remember the wooden table outside, with perched prose inscribed I remember knocking myself out on the door **** **** that I am adorned. The video games Plastered on the monitor Excessive violence on demand. I remember Sunday lunches And the soggy Yorkshire pudding bases And the ham, bear shaped and broken out from plastic cages on demand. I remember the late nights playing board games, The laughter cacophony ensuing The vivid images and 3D activity represented on the big wooden table top purview, I can't remember what the tabletop looks like...                       A shame I remember sitting in the car unable to breathe, I remember the recycled oxygen, The time we nearly died on the roundabout, The times we looked at air rifle paraphernalia. The times we smiled together. The arguments, And conversations, The silence And sleep... And questioning glares everytime I asked permission to make myself a drink The awkwardness The times we walked to the corner shop Or took a drive somewhere or someplace, The time I picked flowers and got a bollocking The skin that felt empty and conceited. The blooded scratch marks hidden under sleeves, The scratching, allergies, Dripping noses, headaches, The mass of energy in front of me. The unconscious predispositions, The illness that came every morning, The return home to certainty And mostly the fluctuating sense of existential ambiguity. The times we went on holiday and flooded the car with gear, I remember the constant uneasiness, The commentaries that rounded every corner The time you turned yellow, The overwhelming desire for love, I remember the attempts to connect The feelings of rejection and isolation The awkwardness. And love, And memories that die with me. I remember you daily, live you eternally, I find myself caught in a web spun, And thus I try not to remember you Too much. I apologise for these thoughts, But not to you, But to the others I love, Whom it may hurt.
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Jul 18, 2019
Jul 18, 2019 at 2:01 PM UTC
A lost 'O'de
I remember the T.T on the front screen tv, I remember the wooden table outside, with perched prose inscribed I remember knocking myself out on the door **** **** that I am adorned. The video games Plastered on the monitor Excessive violence on demand. I remember Sunday lunches And the soggy Yorkshire pudding bases And the ham, bear shaped and broken out from plastic cages on demand. I remember the late nights playing board games, The laughter cacophony ensuing The vivid images and 3D activity represented on the big wooden table top purview, I can't remember what the tabletop looks like...                       A shame I remember sitting in the car unable to breathe, I remember the recycled oxygen, The time we nearly died on the roundabout, The times we looked at air rifle paraphernalia. The times we smiled together. The arguments, And conversations, The silence And sleep... And questioning glares everytime I asked permission to make myself a drink The awkwardness The times we walked to the corner shop Or took a drive somewhere or someplace, The time I picked flowers and got a bollocking The skin that felt empty and conceited. The blooded scratch marks hidden under sleeves, The scratching, allergies, Dripping noses, headaches, The mass of energy in front of me. The unconscious predispositions, The illness that came every morning, The return home to certainty And mostly the fluctuating sense of existential ambiguity. The times we went on holiday and flooded the car with gear, I remember the constant uneasiness, The commentaries that rounded every corner The time you turned yellow, The overwhelming desire for love, I remember the attempts to connect The feelings of rejection and isolation The awkwardness. And love, And memories that die with me. I remember you daily, live you eternally, I find myself caught in a web spun, And thus I try not to remember you Too much. I apologise for these thoughts, But not to you, But to the others I love, Whom it may hurt.
Continue reading...
55
Today I found my happy place is seeing my head succumbing to pressure, finding itself displaced from not the event, or indeed my need for protection, but from the simple fact of continuing to be before again retreating; Receeding into peace.
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Jan 30, 2019
Jan 30, 2019 at 10:48 AM UTC
Happy piəce
It is my illness: to find heaven in you. Each time you move by my side I find myself feeling electricity accrue, my fingers wishing to coil, enshrined in a loving eternal prayer. Breaths leave your lips, condensation incites quick steps, eclipsing the patterns of thought left to lovingly crumble in your wake. Trick- -les of fire burn each time you pause to think, or rhetort, or shift your tongue, I am caught between the need to stay true to our brink, or to fall into you; lost forever. Naught seems comparable to your divine form, and left am I living a life left shorn.
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Jan 22, 2019
Jan 22, 2019 at 3:04 PM UTC
Beautiful Insanity
Each solitary breath falls wasted. A lost wisp of a second spent without; Each intake lacking the sublime. Basted in the fact of your non-being, and doubt. Fears of missing you rise and fall. A bind, to taste sweet heaven in your presence, but be without you, would leave the god's blind. My dreams are shadowed by your sleek essence, you, the Ferdinand to my heart's tempest. Each step you take fractures my vision, bliss ripples carry across my anxious breaths, to reside in your pooling beauty. Wishes of an eternity with you are all I hope for before the universe's fall.
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Jan 22, 2019
Jan 22, 2019 at 2:49 PM UTC
A Beautiful Flower
Tiger Tiger, burning bright, sat b’twixt a ghoulish plight. Will it scupper? Will it sow? Will it flash amidst the snow? Born a’time a’lost in wonder, Plundered foolish lines a sunder; Hot cross buns peer and sigh, For Tiger Tiger caught their eye. Louie Louie what d’ya do? Made a mess with peep and view. Did they ask? Did they beg? Why’d ya need to flash third leg? Seems to me, “just jokes and fun” is man’s excuse for crime of stun, For Louie Louie, clutching stick, Will he exposed? (well obvs if *****
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Feb 16, 2018
Feb 16, 2018 at 8:47 AM UTC
Louie Louie, oh baby, tmi....