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Politer to fruit
In the name, of a toil's box
Sat by order's river, the irony we suit
To possess a stilled eye, which has savored not

Run, fool, run
Sown notice, of a quiet in the din
Of the jungle, we notice the hope of cunning
To save a charging guidance to what we have, for sin

Win, tool, win
Lead since, fed genius
Is a harboring cold, the driven nature of meant?
In the dim eye's I forgave, many tears come to season

Sun, who'll, sun
Avid in heat we prophecy, is a need's shame
Poised to entail all, the voice of method's begun
To make a wish in open seem, the order to a name

Sin, cool, sin
Token treasure, thunder in the east
So willed, for a moment to understand again
Looking for a chosen one, that we lost at a feast

Gun, soul, gun
Driven by horror and the beauty of childhood
Where a blind friendship with only a smile sung
Has come and gone anew, like a heart of would...

Halt and salt, why do you insist?
Savage as a paradise with a missing child can be...
A sign of the times, a sovereignty to ask, is a glue this...?
Miracles in a guilty eye, are we that we are, kindred's anarchy?
Heaven, was a voice that never cleared? (War...)
Kassan Jahmal Apr 16
Ocean lines,— under those eyes;
and lovely tears of their blue.
I took a bite of your fruit; cherry lips,
red passionate desired kiss.
Smooth skins of curves; peaches compliment
the plums. Passion fruit, a sour grape mix;
of bitter sweet love at times of you.
A basket case; I'm the fool neither less full of your fruit.

It's under your shoes; glass pieces of hearts
you step on with your high heel boots.
The cracks of sound are the proof;
of your quickened harshness to be my abuse.
I'm no use,— of not being the type used to you.
Scared of a cost to being scarred by love;–
so sacred of you, and all it's holy oxygen in the room.

The atmosphere does change;
but never more like your shades.
I'm stuck in empty pages; trying my best to read into
you. Oh of how the longings I have to meet,— on that
particularly day past a pens dreams painted in ink.
Cornered by love, if when I'm dared to walk on it's street.

The sweets nothings on repeat;
the few awkward hugs, handshakes, speed dating,
and those meet and greets.

Best to find love,— before it comes hunting for


Looking Out Very Enthusiastically.
The aspects of the Spirit
Have been compared to fruit
They're like jewels
within our crown
Brought up from the root
Of the Vine of Jesus
With the grapes so sweet.

Love is like a diamond
The priceless Kohinoor
It's matchless worth & loveliness
Eternally endure!

Joy is a fiery opal
Sparkling it whets
The fire in our spirit man
Reflecting sparking depths!

Peace is bluest sapphire
Pacific and serene
Imagine a perfection
As it Subtly gleams!

Patience is a virtue
The largest perfect pearl
It has sand within it
Yet gives grace to
all the world!

Kindness is a topaz
Unrivaled in Its warmth
It invites you to lie down
By its amber hearth.

Goodness is an emerald
The finest ever seen!
It shares its wealth
with all who need
So it stays ever green!

Humility is a chancery
Like the moon it glows
It is beautiful and so rare
Yet pride it never shows!

Faithfulness is turquoise
Persian and SO rare
It believes and it receives
Blessings not yet there!

Meekness is a beryl
Strong as Samson's arm!
It could break mountains in two
And yet it does no harm.

Long-suffering a ruby
It triumphs pain with good.
It's cut into a perfect heart ❤
Red as Jesus's blood.

Love and our Long-suffering
Are bookends bright and tall.
They keep all the rest in place
Yes... they keep them ALL.

SoulSurvivor aka
Write of Passage
Jaicob Jan 28
I ate some raspberries today
They were cold
And sweet
And soft

But their seeds get stuck in my teeth
They just sit
And ****
And poke

Until I get them out
fika Jan 28
She is lovely
like apricot juice-
sweet and ****

like ripe fruit
Ira Desmond Nov 2021
The fruit of
the Pacific madrone
tree may at
first entice you
with its ripe,
fiery, scarlet skin.

But bite into
this fruit, and
you’ll taste an
astringent, gristly pith
with hard seeds
like children’s teeth.

You will know
the foolish feeling
that lurks within
that yawning gap
between sugary expectations
and bitter reality.
Kassan Jahmal Nov 2021
Taste that stings lips'
Sweetest to tongue;
Refreshes my thirst:

A bite of love;
As a fruit of worth'

Bright yellow smile'
Bright red lips;
And a body wave flow.

                She's not my world'
                But she's my girl;
                Made of-
                Lemon Cherry Water.
jessica obrien Oct 2021
i am parting my lips with a

out comes
juiced page
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