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mirahavenida
18/Pilipinas 'Sans toi, les émotions d'aujourd'hui ne seraient que la peau morte des émotions d'autrefois.'
When one was never two And the reverse doubled Becomes positive, I remember links to an Abandon page And the effluent nature Of the voice, Spoken at odds at the edge Of yesterday. Where have we gone, The soul is A tired old man Forever told in a web of time, Take this away, Numb the years gone cold In a river one ends And begins in the sky's Tearful rejoice. That I took a deep breath And found a complicated Sigh; I often wonder of the Two existences, When life can smile At death's birth.
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Aug 27, 2017
Aug 27, 2017 at 3:52 PM UTC
Splicing The Condition
.       *Heart and soul pour forth             an artesian spring                     arising                     set free     through the conduit of poetry brilliant constellations gleam adrift,           soothened reflections          float away unfettered,               mirrored upon        peaceful rivers sojourn               downstream              coursing afar           conjured beyond       the mesmerizing spell of the outbound tides beckon                unconfined                 swallowed        by the scattering voice            of the rising sea                fomenting        a comfortable silence                  all at sea          within ocean deep                         someone you used to know* 2017
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Aug 27, 2017
Aug 27, 2017 at 3:51 PM UTC
Drifting with the outbound tides beckon
Like men, from dust and clay she is born. By men, her face and delicate form is made, Through heat and glaze and Water she’ll soon scorn. A fine novelty, A porcelain maid. On her crown are luscious locks of mohair, Adorned with rosettes, by masters no doubt! And glass eyes tell the secrets she can’t share For her lips are in an eternal pout. Velvet and lace conceals her nakedness Away from a stranger’s unwelcome gaze. And this Belle who looks alive, is lifeless. A sleeping beauty born by the fire’s blaze. Yet a doll is not unlike a real man. Both are puppets, Each to a different hand
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Aug 27, 2017
Aug 27, 2017 at 3:48 PM UTC
How A Girl Is Made
i'm certain my heart is beating, i can feel it leap in my chest but i don't know what exactly for. ask me what gets it racing, what makes my stomach turn and my chest heave, and i will not be able to tell you a single answer. but i can tell you a strange fact: i have learned to fall in love a million times a day. my heart has grown bigger by tenfold to take in pieces of the world and all of its people, for it cannot bear to spend a single second idle. my heart is here—held out and admittedly quite vulnerable— for anyone and anything to take because i thrive on living to love, and this is what keeps my heart beating.
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Jun 26, 2017
Jun 26, 2017 at 4:40 AM UTC
what makes the heart beat?
Narukami no sukoshi toyomite      (A faint clap of thunder) sashi kumori      (Clouded skies) Ame mo furanu ka?      (Perhaps rain comes) Kimi wo todomemu      (If so, will you stay here with me?) Narukami no sukoshi toyomite      (A faint clap of thunder) furazu to mo      (Even if rain comes not) warewa tomaramu      (I will stay here) imoshi todomeba      (Together with you)
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Jun 26, 2017
Jun 26, 2017 at 4:39 AM UTC
The Garden of Words: a tanka
Dress them fabulous! Line their eyes black, dramatic; Teach the young mermaids to walk in cigarettes with eyes of starved predators (like they are) unflinching at the flashes as they sashay To let ***** sons imagine what’s under the bespoke. Make their tresses wet for greater effects Let my mermaids walk with pearl-choked necks! Cut off the ducklings! Matrons like swans --nymphs that glide on runway as if on ice Have the witches lust for the sea green dress Even if it makes them look like fat caterpillars Make them forget that they’re no longer young And that these girls are the newest brand of beautiful. For the sequin-scales, have the crones battle with cheques. Let my mermaids walk with pearl-choked necks!
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Jun 25, 2017
Jun 25, 2017 at 10:02 AM UTC
mermaids and pearls