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I cannot stand it anymore!
This cruel beauty that haunts me...
It has plunged me into the darkness.
But plunge me no further,
When I discover its secrets!
Here we are,
Lying under the stars.
The nighttime is very pretty.
It always makes me feel witty.

Let's come back again!
I'm sure it's not a sin.
I just wanna gaze at the sky...
It puts me in a daze every time.

Travelers will sleep,
Willows will weep.
And here we'll stay here,
Always and forever, here.
Hey, so, I love you.
Do you love me too?
If so, respond promptly.
I'll wait patiently.
If no, run fast.
I'll still catch your sorry ***.
 May 2014 Cunning Linguist
Tord
i'm a poet
i said

then you must
know a lot about love
they said

and laughed

i'm just painting words
i answered
(T.S.B.)
 May 2014 Cunning Linguist
Tord
if i could express
my love in stones
i would have
bought you diamonds

but
it is even stronger
and harder

*

all i want is to be
a rolling stone

moving with your lips
(T.S.B)
 May 2014 Cunning Linguist
Ady
Express more with the freedom
which simplicity can bring us.
Dost thou even go here?
Can thou even read?
Doth thou know the website thou art on?
Poetry be what we breed!

Ye foolish man!
Ye simpleton!
From whom unrefinement flows!
Thou shalt not write,
On a poetry site,
A work of ****** prose!

Oh yeah? Watch me.

Hello beautiful people. I'm in the mood to philosophize. And this being a poetry site, let's make the topic poetry. (WARNING: this piece will be filled with opinions, personal beliefs, and probably a little butter. If you don't agree with anything I say, good for you. Way to have opinions. AND WHATEVER YOU DO. DON'T SUBSTITUTE MARGARINE FOR THE BUTTER!) Ok, so poetry. I like poetry. And since I'm the one writing this, I'm gonna tell you about my philosophy, and my personal style and influences.
My philosophy that I try to live by is minimalism. Which is NOT laziness! Minimalism is quite difficult really. Anyone can write a nice fluffy poem (and yes, nice fluffy poems can be dark pieces about death and the like.) What minimalism is to me,  is the stripping away of all of that fluff to get down to the raw emotion of a piece. An abundance of words pollutes the emotion.
Now, my stylistic mumbo jumbo. My aesthetic has gone through a few phases. A lot of my work is very modernist. What that means is that it deals a lot with... well with failure. Failure of the human race, failure of people, and my own personal failure. But also with separation. Some prime examples of my modernist works are  "here I lay a martyr" and "of my faults and follies"
The next phase is when I started writing music for my band (Bisclaveret Marie, we're on Facebook. Check it out.) I became enamored with a man by the name of Jack White. (yes, that Jack White. The one formerly of the White Stripes.) Also the source of my minimalist approach, Jack revived my love for the Blues. When that came crashing into my poetry, it was definitely for the better.
The next phase was surrealism. The use of images and metaphors and weirdness to paint a picture of the emotion I choose to write about. (I don't really know how to describe this, just go read Though There Be Dragons, A Journey Through The Mind of a Madman. It'll make more sense.)
And most recently the Blues have seen a renaissance in my work. The simple lyric structures and rhyme patterns tickle my inner minimalist.
Yeah, so that's my spiel. If you actually read this, you freaking deserve a medal
Let's make these a thing. Tell me about your philosophical jim-jam, and tag it with hardcorephilosophy and proseonapoetrysite
My mind had started to slow.
    Reverse this process
                     Let me go
                              Fast
My lungs become a freezer
           To hold the
                           Fire Ice
Close my eyes and feel the crystal-
                                     -ized
Ether poison of horridly wonderous taste.
         Feeling better
Not fast enough in my haste.
   While this is nice
              I want to FEEL the
                         Fire Ice
Rock to powder
               Powder to lines lines lines
          Lines that lie
With the promise of power
                Exhale, inhale
The burn I yearned
     Tears
            Feeling better burning higher
      From the
                            Fire Ice
Her thoughts, far beyond age
Her soul knows no time
A crazy mind, a beautiful mess
Always living on cloud nine.
Deaf to insults,
blinded by beauty
Thick skinned,
Numb to duty.
Living like there is nothing left to lose
Losing all she had so effortlessly,
Loving like there's nothing much to choose
She is the wild animal the human was,
centuries back into history.
Yes, the air is electric.
There is wind and there is rain,
But the rain is gentle, like an outdoor shower
on a tropical island,
And the wind is reviving, it caresses the skin,
Awakes, restores, renews.  
Do not run for shelter
or cower inside
Awaiting the return of comfortable and calm.
Look up, embrace the cloudbursts,
Feel it, feel everything, take it, drink it in.
Find me.
I am waiting for you,
Laughing, dancing, underneath the trees.
I want to share the opening skies.
We have both been waiting
And this is not a storm.
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