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Andy Denson Mar 20
sator
i am still here—
the eternal spark, the constant presence
amidst the whirlwind of thoughts and dreams.
i manifest success, forging my destiny
brick by brick with every cosmic “yes.”

arepo
in the mirror of raw ego and honest reflection,
i transmute every reeking flaw into fragrant power.
from the ashes of past mistakes
i sculpt myself—a masterpiece of perseverance,
refined like the best soaps, emerging renewed.

tenet
i hold fast to my celestial blueprint,
a generator with a capricorn flame,
a leo moon roaring for its rightful spotlight,
each heartbeat an invocation of divine order,
each breath a promise to the stars.

opera
in the theater of creation, i am both director and actor—
my life a symphony of passion and precision.
with every action, every well-earned victory,
i spin the wheel of destiny,
turning obstacles into stepping stones
that lead to realms of boundless light.

rotas
and as the cosmic cycle revolves,
i embrace the sator square’s eternal secret:
what is sown in the heart returns in glory.
i manifest success with every radiant step,
every choice a spiral that brings me closer
to the infinite horizon of my dreams.

i stand as a living constellation,
an alchemist of fate and fervor,
a poet of the universe—
and in this sacred square,
i claim my success,
now and forever.
sator
arepo
tenet
opera
rotas
Andy Denson Mar 20
I am the sum of stars and design,
A Generator in cosmic flow—
Waiting, always waiting to respond
To the universe’s subtle “yes.”

Capricorn sun burns in my chest,
A furnace of duty and ambition,
Forging dreams with meticulous might—
Every moment a brick in my empire of light.

Virgo rising, quiet and precise,
Crafts my path with order and care,
Each detail a whisper of destiny,
A careful dance on the edge of chaos.

My Leo Moon roars with inner fire,
A constant call for warmth and applause—
In every gaze, a longing for the spotlight,
Yet I remain the calm at the storm’s eye.

Venus in Sagittarius sends me on wild quests,
Where freedom and passion entwine in laughter,
Love is an adventure, an open road—
A journey where every scar tells a story.

Mars in Capricorn drives my relentless pace,
A warrior armed with discipline and resolve,
Turning obstacles into stepping stones,
Each challenge a testament to my truth.

Jupiter in Virgo blesses my work,
Not with random luck, but with earned grace—
Every detail polished in the crucible of effort,
Every success a quiet, triumphant sigh.

In my Human Design, the Sacral speaks
With an unwavering gut feeling—
A truth too visceral to be denied,
Guiding me with its pulsating rhythm.

Profile 4/6 whispers of connection and evolution,
From youthful sparks to the wisdom of the crown—
Each phase a masterpiece of becoming,
Each step a stride toward cosmic perfection.

I dwell in my own sacred cave,
Where the tactile world meets inner space,
Grounded in the touch of life’s raw beauty,
While dreams take flight on wings of stardust.

I, Andy Denson—a living constellation,
A mosaic of charts and celestial codes,
Every line a verse, every placement a chorus,
In the symphony of an endless cosmic poem.

And as I breathe in the infinite night,
I stand, a masterpiece of celestial blueprint,
Inviting the world to witness my evolution,
One stellar, deliberate, radiant step at a time.
This poem is my cosmic diary—a fusion of my Human Design and Astrology that reveals the intricate dance of destiny and free will. Each line is a reflection of the energies that shape me as a Generator with a Capricorn Sun, a Leo Moon that craves its spotlight, and countless planetary voices guiding every step. I invite you to explore your own celestial blueprint and celebrate the art of living intentionally. In the vast universe, every soul shines uniquely—may this piece inspire you to discover your own star-strewn path.
Mystic Ink Plus Oct 2020
Let me nurture you
In such a way
So that
Everyone watching you
Feels desirous
After finding
The blueprint
Upon your smile
And modest confidence
In your eyes

You don't need
Anyone
To tell
You are beautiful
You just are
Unparalleled

Yours truly
He said
Genre: Almost Romantic
Theme: Dope  Soul
muteD Mar 2020
Words hurt
But yours shouldn’t have to.
The things you say stick to me like a
Tattoo.
I’m a vacuum.
I **** up all the things you say
and it just replays.
You say
things you think you have to say
in ways
that are better left unsaid.
Too bad you can’t UnSay
the things you said
even though I know
you never would.

How come
it is always the ones we hold closest
that is gifted
with the blueprint
of our defeat?
a way to have us
beaten, broken hearted
and down
on both knees.

How is this honest?
How are we fair?
To be clear,
as you sleep
without fear
I sit here and think.
If you had a snore for every tear I’ve shed,
you might never wake up.
Written : 3/4/20
Proctor Ehrling Sep 2019
A ghost of a house is a blueprint
A soul of a blueprint is a sketch
A sketch's spirit is in vision
And lemme tell you, your vision's quite a stretch
A guy I know has a tendency to develop things and plan for stuff he has no way of ever accomplishing. This little nugget js written in about 2 minutes.
Diána Bósa Aug 2019
I am looking for a blueprint for love
the one I've once felt about you.
The perfect blue paper
that helps me figure things out
that tells secrets about a lover's skin and sighs
- the ones I knew as yours.
Now I wish to redraw, then admire its design:
relearn, then follow its patterns
down to my very heart.
I want to rebuild its structure,
recreate the way that is no more,
to have the perfect edition of it;
a guide to my true self,
the one who once knew what it felt like
to be in love with someone like you.
Phoebe Hynes Apr 2016
I think harmony is one of those things,
that can only be determined from an internal blueprint.
Concepts emerge,
and this reasoning is extracted,
from beautiful objects and ideas.
Simply,
an idea formed,
and              framed
by                        a
grouping           of
other                ideas.
He knows not how the toner trails,
I know how my conduits drain themselves.
Forming a queue while spitting blood
They’re an anemic residue.

He knows not how to freshen my palate,
With warmth, I see no remedy
My so-fatigued heart,
I was a monochrome in plastic wares.

I wasn’t a prototype, but a derivative.
Seclusion I abhor, indeed my life too

— The End —