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470 · May 7
Smudges of change
Elsie Greek May 7
Created me in spring
But I swallowed water
To grow anywhere from green.

In gulps of disturbia
Breathed in and out
The leap of fate that is found
In osmotically lean sciences.

They trusted to morph
My lucid moments of thrill
Into smudges of change
That evoked brushed memories
I knew I would never
Bear the pressure to recall
                               nor dwell on.

This callous decision
To move on with them is
Anything but to sound less obvious
And to erase all commas
                             as if mute anything
That is to be felt and to sense instead.
391 · May 2020
Your immutable
Elsie Greek May 2020
Swim in the ocean
Of rebirth with me
Resonating in
              The Stream
Of what I call
      Clear conscious.
Melody you sing to
                    On its waves
Matching its duality
Is like frustrated blur,
A hum of drastic stakes
       We are to make.
But I like you
In whatever shape
You desire
               to mold me,
Until the end of the day
I am your plasticine.
          And tomorrow,
I am as well you brick,
Your indulgence delusion,
A glass of aspirin water,
Therefore, your immutable side.
365 · May 20
Coffeepot rumblings
Elsie Greek May 20
That is not a mild story,
She neglects it;
That's a sunken bittercup black.
Only what can be told;
Sip it up, never call her again.
Like a sign of approval
On your daily fetiches,
No sugar, skim right;
As you're taking it in, she can live with it.
Learn how affected one is
Under caffeine,
How it mingles with you,
Becomes your resting point.
Like it's when you wish
You could be dormant;
Only then she reciprocates.
Let it help her recapitulate
Your story:
Passage in sentences,
Words into syllables,
the dull infused with some glory.
328 · May 11
to all condemned
Elsie Greek May 11
This news consoles
The heck of us,
In gestures strained imprints
On hearts.
They learned a daily bite
Of stats:
Us figured, scooped,
Against and fast.

Like that of spoons
Fed to the blind
By those dictators
Who still fly.
Plots hatching plots:
them aged and trite.
Like was it news to you?
Not in the slightest.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ELKbtFljucQ
299 · Apr 2020
Judah?
Elsie Greek Apr 2020
Stick to whatever,
She told me.
Get it wrong, right
Or do not.
Flee to your scarier
Shelter,
One that is easy
To spot.
Drink wines
From glasses
Of doubt,
Worship your
Local canons.
Stretch them
Within and without,
Stan the unpardoned
Of lords.

Having it all
Given to you,
Acting completely
Exposed,
Trophies in pain
Excruciate you:
None of them **** you,
Suppose.
298 · Aug 19
The simple is crafty
Elsie Greek Aug 19
The simple is crafty,
It's driven by thriving,
It's cool and it's artful
Envisioning the sublime.

Allow me be simple now,
That's not outrageous.
All sorts of one substance,
All forms of dim treacheries.

A smooth olive sparkle,
Not the one with the edges
Abiding with the peeves,
Deeply drowned in dry Martinis.

Too diligent to continue
Because if a life is only simple,
It becomes completely unbearable.
Taste makes me feel all the complexity
Of it, but the simplicity is just a scale
At which I am capable to create.
240 · Mar 2020
We (are)
Elsie Greek Mar 2020
Clients of the Unknown
to pile up the whys.
The lovely highs and lows
to lighten a demise.
Strange feelings override
to pump up the best
In us.
This stroke,
this bolt,
this blast.
It's here, it's going to last.
236 · Apr 2020
Fish
Elsie Greek Apr 2020
In my ocean,
My private obliviousness,
I keep the fish of golden:
They never happen
To rest.
Whirled by and confused
With each other
They let it all come roundabout.
Go far, they will follow you farther.
Mute. Quick! Cold. Be careful! Haunt.
They haunt you, you stalk them.
Vice versa. Who's smarter?
Mutation of wit and vigor.
Deep waters run still,
Eyes look after,
Pretend you know what to fish for.
233 · Mar 2020
My autumn leaves a trace
Elsie Greek Mar 2020
My autumn leaves a trace
of cravings.
How nice
      to watch them plonk
                their bubbly blues.
There bitter
            meets the nagging,
Namely,
Grey collides
            with crimson spleen
                      of sour overdues.
                      
I treat them all
As seasonal and timely.
It's cool to feel
      what is corrupt
        in their shallow kinds.
There nastiest are marked
between the lines of mildly
            put regrets
                  as looming shades
Of glasses oozing wine.

It all has been at least concerning
But never even eaten me
a while.
To me
     there's no such thing
                              as tables turning.
To you
    it may as well seem only
             a breath of wind.
194 · Mar 2020
Egonizing
Elsie Greek Mar 2020
Your instincts are blind
But not hesitant.
I feel it walking away.
As you come
Each step has a stance
Of a period.
After you. I shall start
A new day.

Never thought of you
Thinking of
                         how
                         much
                         of
                         you
Thought of myself.

So, I walk away
Cause
           my
                 reason
                               of
                                   moving
                      ­                              is
                                     yours
                               to
                    come
          what
may.
183 · Apr 2020
When at night
Elsie Greek Apr 2020
Onions peel off
Layers by layers
In a disarmingly
Bittersweet way.
It's like personas
Beguiling
Their players,
Let crusty skins
Come over
Eventually.
As ****** moths
Flickering,
Tenderly knitting
A warm deadly
Nightshade
Over the moon.
It's like everyone
Mingling,
Eagerly laying
Crosses over naughts
In a human
Para bellum.
171 · Apr 2020
sleep on it
Elsie Greek Apr 2020
sleep, we sleep,
we would sleep on it
to make some of life
decisions,
like buying or not,
flying there tomorrow
or keeping still and alive,
somehow.
I know, right?
such collisions,
trying to process it first,
then to sleep on it,
but all I get is diluted
insomnia.
127 · May 8
Clearly it's snowing..
Elsie Greek May 8
Clearly it's snowing
In your heart.
You wish you thawed,
Still wish you to though.
The cold of it keeps
Glowed you up,
The smartest streak
Of such a generous
Remark is showing
The obsessive drift:
Repetitive at nothing,
Novelty at stake.
It's where you are,
Still drifting there
As though
In cycles of the dark.
I wish you knew,
Let's hope it still is not too late.
What is eating you? - Preoccupied society suggests cancellation to fix whoever may be ruined long before.
126 · Jun 11
image, I, nation.
Elsie Greek Jun 11
Screens of no time,
Pixels and patterns,
Scrabble the lies into
Destiny. Create the leaflets:
New paths, better strategies,
Purposeful lives plagiarize
Meaningless deaths.
Idiocy research is plugged
Into this head full of disharmony,
While this heart is full by half of it.
What can I do with
Questions and appetites:
This imagination, the next century?
Probably accept that it's
Plundering my time.
106 · May 8
What is your happening
Elsie Greek May 8
What is your happening
...
How long is he in service
...
Where are your dearest
...
Has lost been found and returned to you?

These are the current affairs,
These are the questioning stares,
New temporary places for our woeful
Damages.
Elsie Greek Apr 2020
In rises and sets
My body is given to
What I barely can
Rely on: time.

Though it measures
Breaths, or winks,
or swallows
Of what I barely can
Live through: life.

Hope, it's not all gone,
Sometimes tortured,
Or mocked at, nuzzled into
The very thought of..
but you're a different kind.

The spark of pertinence
You may possess at times,
Giving it all to me
Like you must as a gift
To redeem all the sins.

To reject or submit,
Accept or resist?
I'd leave it all:
You, I never will.
Maybe, if I'm honest,
I could only imply.
I imply..
I will imply it,
Iwilimplit,
I'llit,
It.
83 · Apr 20
Made it again.
Elsie Greek Apr 20
Made it again this day.
Hard time saving time
Loosing grip on most sides,
Dots are needled above the "i"s,
Still make no sense of it.

They concur to this idea
Of large scale violence
As an incentive that it may arise
from fixing their dots to nobody's
Is.

And what is invention
If not the hustle to make it all
Work fine,
The doubt is it won't, but the process
makes it inspiring.

Sometimes it takes just a grinder,
uninventive but hopeful.
79 · Feb 2020
My mind is
Elsie Greek Feb 2020
My mind is stolen
and hours are seconds,
I dream the dreams
My loose taste never been kept in..

The places you come into,
The doors open so wide,
When your mind is littlest
You can possibly hide.

I cherish you,
You come along,
I tame the beast,
It becomes my own.

And never gone,
We forever be gone.
Who knows, this time
My mind is not stolen.

To my mind that is stolen,
I'm writing these letters.
I seek forgiving
And hope for the better.

Listen to the silence,
It pleads we be all still,
But how desperate time is
To bare its negligence.

At least we all know it,
For we take in too much
Of time all us owing,
To us is nonesuch.

Well, my mind is taken,
Were it ever complete,
I would give it a row,
I would pin its wild limbs.

Though I cherish you,
I know you are not mine.
I dive into your waters
And stroll over for miles.
75 · May 16
(In)complete
Elsie Greek May 16
From now on I summon
My fugitive selves,
All at once to nuance
the stitches and shells.
Should they not be complete,
I will handle it.
In the darkest of nights
There's no way to keep
Unabated light,
But to brace my mean heart,
Tape it shut but somehow
Loose it into the wild.
There it goes:
Beastly wonderful storm
Through the hurdles of challenge;
They blazon them selves — yet another refrain of acceptance.
Spoken truth is an armour of gold,
But my only concern is to hold an opinion of selves,
as they matter.
After stitches are dealt with,
Mostly painfully sheer in their glory,
After shells are assumed
to be me: I'll summon the suit.
Pardon this free interpretation of the Marvel comic.  Still, an inspiring art piece makes it worthwhile to suggest any idea or subjective take on it.
73 · Mar 2020
Ars gratia artis
Elsie Greek Mar 2020
Ars gratia artis.
That's all that he knows
About life.
Called in to restore
Demographics,
Demolish the bleak
Overnight.

Repetitive claws
Of his fashion
Set up undeniable
Scratch.
How trendy it is!
Oh, how flashy.
Impossible
To outmatch.

Recover us, please,
Mother nature.
For his is
The meanest delight.
He once used to toddle:
Now crests us
In his own unhumble stride.

Forsake it,
Leave everyone bare.
He deals us as
Master of his trade.
We are stopped at nothing,
Forsake not.
Ain't Earth living art,
A hot spot.
#arsgratiaartis #hotspot #world #coronavirus
72 · Apr 2020
Everything that clings
Elsie Greek Apr 2020
That is to think of you,
Like to singalong
On the bench of an empty boulevard.
Would that be wrong?

Swamped with life,
Like to get rescued
On the edge of a cliff dragging on a cigar
Is still not too far?

Real deal, hasty dreariness
Now in my skies.
Like if No Surprises
Was blubbing in my earphones,
Would That Not Be Nice?
#Radiohead #DivineFits #Nosurprises #Wouldthatnotbenice #desperate #inspiration
60 · May 20
the absent memory
Elsie Greek May 20
We slept shorter to so little
Working out ways making it up
To childish ourselves.
It still runs in our unruly family
Not to inflict pain; again,
Sometimes we talked to each other
In rapid sentences but longer silences,
Later —  in letters sent to justify them,
Recalling the yard full of brittle
Wine peonies planted by our mother:
They gushed so much like us.
Elsie Greek May 23
now it's time
to listen to the ***** of revolution
and shoot the doubt in the head.
no panic, rustic planning's smooshed 
into rampage during press junkets soaking wet.
now it's time
they are praying to the silence
as they move to set their bodies free,
set their spirits free with violence
as they leave our minds be.
if the doubts still prevail,
they might turn into a disco ball,
so bright and sublime,
that now it's time
it recovers the pulse
and the strengths of the crowds,
unforsaken.
Inspo by an Arcade fire live show, so therapeutic.

— The End —