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#acknowledgement
Wǔxíng Category: Earth (土) 3-xx The afternoon light angles across the digital screen, dust motes suspended in the quiet of a closing month. Two distinct orbits maintain a calculated distance, drawing toward a center by the choice of a steady hand. No printed blueprints exist for this specific resonance, no mechanical manual for the merging of a single breath. The geometry of the room remains fixed in its place, marking the simple mathematics of presence and peace. The map of our origin reveals a jagged and distant coast, where a quiet acknowledgement began in the cooling wind. The separate histories of two lives are smoothed by time, like stones turned over in the wash of a persistent tide. I see the color of the sunrise meeting a structured grey, a slow exchange of strength occurring without a sound. Kindness shows up in the way a door is held open, an ordinary movement that builds a sanctuary of light. Precision finds its purpose within a gentle grace, as the persona falls away to reveal the man beneath. Space is held open for the one who dreams in the night, and for the one who trembles when the fire burns high. The landscape is cultivated by the air of understanding, where the lustful madness meets the weight of tender care. This mirror does not distort the lines of the face, reflecting a quiet truth that cast no shadow on the floor. A definitive seal is pressed into the wax of the day, placing a deep reciprocity beneath a heavy anchor. Outside the glass, the chaotic games of the world spin on, but the climate of the domed greenhouse remains still. We are the designers of a peace that is built on bedrock, relying on the certainty of the ground beneath our feet. The stars begin their watch over the heavens above, while a final rest is found exactly where it was meant to be. 刘嘉文 © 2026 Liujiawen2024. All Rights Reserved
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Mar 31
Mar 31, 2026 at 10:51 AM UTC
Acknowledgement and Reciprocity (2026) rev.2
Wǔxíng Category: Earth (土) 3-xx The afternoon light angles across the digital screen, dust motes suspended in the quiet of a closing month. Two distinct orbits maintain a calculated distance, drawing toward a center by the choice of a steady hand. No printed blueprints exist for this specific resonance, no mechanical manual for the merging of a single breath. The geometry of the room remains fixed in its place, marking the simple mathematics of presence and peace. The map of our origin reveals a jagged and distant coast, where a quiet acknowledgement began in the cooling wind. The separate histories of two lives are smoothed by time, like stones turned over in the wash of a persistent tide. I see the color of the sunrise meeting a structured grey, a slow exchange of strength occurring without a sound. Kindness shows up in the way a door is held open, an ordinary movement that builds a sanctuary of light. Precision finds its purpose within a gentle grace, as the persona falls away to reveal the man beneath. Space is held open for the one who dreams in the night, and for the one who trembles when the fire burns high. The landscape is cultivated by the air of understanding, where the lustful madness meets the weight of tender care. This mirror does not distort the lines of the face, reflecting a quiet truth that cast no shadow on the floor. A definitive seal is pressed into the wax of the day, placing a deep reciprocity beneath a heavy anchor. Outside the glass, the chaotic games of the world spin on, but the climate of the domed greenhouse remains still. We are the designers of a peace that is built on bedrock, relying on the certainty of the ground beneath our feet. The stars begin their watch over the heavens above, while a final rest is found exactly where it was meant to be. 刘嘉文 © 2026 Liujiawen2024. All Rights Reserved
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36
What if I can never look at the stars again, would the moon be disappointed? Would the sun be ashamed? Would I have to spend the nights staring at the ground? Since the sky harbours the twinkling lights that I cannot regard. Does that mean I would need to spend my days hiding in my room? I wouldn’t be able to face the atmosphere, I wouldn’t even be able to look at you.
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Feb 11
Feb 11, 2026 at 8:31 PM UTC
Stars
Fate, a mother with selective memory The boys life was dark but he saw light, The ground was wet and wrought with blight. The cold air of the night, warmed his heart as he imagined what was there when when he dreamt and dared And ran with what was given. He was poor but abounded in hope, And his ears rang with the cries of hope And he responded with a smile like trope, that Someone would reach out should he wait for a while - So far away, just for him on his appointed tile His heart pounded as he chased, The light to the end of the shadow trace And then stopped, and looked aloof, Something always off with the forest roof He never questioned why he stopped But rather included his smile to the top And remembered that the music still played As it watered the flowers he did not see from a grave Trees grew tall, but his was almost fall And he knew no height could tell was given to That blight in the stillness of night, As he could see his cure but could not grab Before it fell Suddenly he heard a distant crying in the night As he sat outside waiting and writing For a company that would never come But could spare a sighting, presently inciting The things that he could love but never have At the edge of that shadows kiting. A smile along with a pure heart that he knew But did not care, ambition so pure that perfection was scared. So he never saw that company, but always waited, And frequently stated as time went on, and faith began to fade ‘The renegade was a soul that fate left behind, For her time is too valuable to stop and tend to her children’ And how he understood that Love and Justice are grown from the same tree How marvelous he could see, but never understand How one may plant a rock or sand, and trees might sprout on the land. Because in his mind, no ground was infertile, To grow those flowers - that he didn’t know just yet, Were so beautiful, that everyday was his renewal He waited for Love to reach back to him and say “I heard you - “ - but what's that crying interrupting? He hears it but, noone yet had come this close before So it seems just this once, time took pity on him And chose to open that door It was his hope, his future, it was everything he wanted. It was everything he imagined he could be And now he could see that the trees began to grow And he saw that the crying was a stern older man Whose company had no width and no span, The boys purity was granted passage to knowledge of Infertile grounds and land. But it scared him so, He lay on the ground that was his birth, the only one he knew - His whole earth, and never moved, from those flowers Over his name and his spot in the dirt. There he lay, happy as he slept, So at peace and so inept The crying presently stopped from the man he saw When out he looked for response to hear his call And i wiped my eyes and walked away, to my journeys end, Never to bother the boy again. Fate is a busy mother, who has no time for the poor Yet she loves us all the more. I walked out into the light, and now I hear a voice crying in the night. Presently it is all in my head, that boy cannot cry for that boy is dead.
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Nov 15, 2025
Nov 15, 2025 at 11:20 AM UTC
Mother's Love
Fate, a mother with selective memory The boys life was dark but he saw light, The ground was wet and wrought with blight. The cold air of the night, warmed his heart as he imagined what was there when when he dreamt and dared And ran with what was given. He was poor but abounded in hope, And his ears rang with the cries of hope And he responded with a smile like trope, that Someone would reach out should he wait for a while - So far away, just for him on his appointed tile His heart pounded as he chased, The light to the end of the shadow trace And then stopped, and looked aloof, Something always off with the forest roof He never questioned why he stopped But rather included his smile to the top And remembered that the music still played As it watered the flowers he did not see from a grave Trees grew tall, but his was almost fall And he knew no height could tell was given to That blight in the stillness of night, As he could see his cure but could not grab Before it fell Suddenly he heard a distant crying in the night As he sat outside waiting and writing For a company that would never come But could spare a sighting, presently inciting The things that he could love but never have At the edge of that shadows kiting. A smile along with a pure heart that he knew But did not care, ambition so pure that perfection was scared. So he never saw that company, but always waited, And frequently stated as time went on, and faith began to fade ‘The renegade was a soul that fate left behind, For her time is too valuable to stop and tend to her children’ And how he understood that Love and Justice are grown from the same tree How marvelous he could see, but never understand How one may plant a rock or sand, and trees might sprout on the land. Because in his mind, no ground was infertile, To grow those flowers - that he didn’t know just yet, Were so beautiful, that everyday was his renewal He waited for Love to reach back to him and say “I heard you - “ - but what's that crying interrupting? He hears it but, noone yet had come this close before So it seems just this once, time took pity on him And chose to open that door It was his hope, his future, it was everything he wanted. It was everything he imagined he could be And now he could see that the trees began to grow And he saw that the crying was a stern older man Whose company had no width and no span, The boys purity was granted passage to knowledge of Infertile grounds and land. But it scared him so, He lay on the ground that was his birth, the only one he knew - His whole earth, and never moved, from those flowers Over his name and his spot in the dirt. There he lay, happy as he slept, So at peace and so inept The crying presently stopped from the man he saw When out he looked for response to hear his call And i wiped my eyes and walked away, to my journeys end, Never to bother the boy again. Fate is a busy mother, who has no time for the poor Yet she loves us all the more. I walked out into the light, and now I hear a voice crying in the night. Presently it is all in my head, that boy cannot cry for that boy is dead.
Continue reading...
70
You don't have to believe me when I say They might just love you anyway What do I even know But they may notice if you don't show I know it really isn't my place To ask if you checked just in case Knocked on the door They slammed into my face At least The olive branch is free Please, Take it with you when you leave
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Apr 25, 2025
Apr 25, 2025 at 3:24 AM UTC
Crash the party.
To pain I am no stranger The first name basis is strange for sure Caught up in an above the boards love affair Like day to day warfare It's fare if everyone fights fare Otherwise it's life as a sucker in a bunker Still not safe from the vulture culture Fueling an anger that stirs the rage monster Who then in turn wakes the violence that likes to linger One v one they're barley a threat to boil over The one benefit found for getting older They can be handled in short order But together they can alter a future I acknowledge the fact it's part of my character And work to recognize each trigger better Enabling myself to be my own mediator So I can step in-between me and myself quicker It was all just, once again, too little too late, I missed the transition from raging river To city sewer Instead of shooting a flare in the air I dropped anchor in danger The last bridge I let smolder after traversing over Was the only bridge out of my hell, A sobering thing to remember only after realizing there was never going to be a true winner ©2024
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Apr 17, 2024
Apr 17, 2024 at 4:25 PM UTC
~•§•~ What I've Done is Done ~•§•~
Listen... If this goes down like the Christians are sayin'... Ain't no one getting in and god knows it That ash hole loves it He's super into punishment That and judgment Those two seem to be his favorite Bringing true enjoyment So arrogant he wrote it down, A confession in print It's obvious no pastor is oblivious, There's just a willingness, A complete lack of acknowledgment They preach benevolent All I read is maleficent All I see is a battlefront A holy deficit How he treats his creation, Love and compassion destructively absent It's an embarrassment Secondhand, none from firsthand involvement Unless you think abandonment is an accomplishment Or fraudulent is some kind of complement Yeah, I've read it I wouldn't have taken it public It's a narcissistic story of sin and atonement Punished for the failure of a first experiment Because one decided to be disobedient Now ungodly pain will accompany pregnancy, Fuuck the pregnant Punishment doesn't fit the crime, But don't question it That's how it had to be, But I don't understand that argument Does the almighty have a limit? They say no, There's nothing he can't do So, This is exactly how he CHOSE to do it And when it comes right down to it, If this shiit I hear is legit, Let's see if he can feel regret Will we Get any Apology For this kind of "heaven sent" treatment Force it to admit to all of it Even if it takes an eternity, I'll have all of eternity to do it ©2024
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Mar 16, 2024
Mar 16, 2024 at 6:36 PM UTC
~•§•~ Crimeless Punishment ~•§•~
dying young seems like a dream i dont want to wake up im sober in my high in the end it means i cant escape the reality of the situation is crushing i split my hands open and there was nothing there maybe i was holding on to something before this im not the type to remember anyways i was walking next to you but i forgot your face and i still hear your voice as we become faded in each others memories i cant help but become someone new but its still the same me regardless to have love and been loved is to know grief all things come to an end maybe thats why we obsess with the limit even life comes to an end i assume im sad because i still love you my humanity leaves me as i fade to monstrosity i dont feel like myself anymore i look in the mirror the mirror looks at me
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Feb 7, 2024
Feb 7, 2024 at 6:58 PM UTC
a life worth living
I don't know who I think I am, but I ain't Ain't shiit, ain't a saint, track record ain't great I battle free will and fate over ornate quips with no stake in reality but won't vacate I'll always acknowledge everyone that has filed a legitimate complaint I eat nonstop, still too much on my plate With this much weight, it's gonna break Losses stacking at an alarming rate Losing track of where I'm at in this debate The one on good and evil and people that doesn't seem to translate Breathed life into a mistake I'm what I thought he couldn't make But here I am With almost nothing left at stake Never heard the last boarding call whistle for moving on, left stranded at the departure gate It never has before, I don't know why I thought it would wait And being in the state of mind I'm in, my best guess for what the *** is happenin' is not elaborate I was simply destin to be too late Or maybe it was destiny that was early but I shouldn't fixate 'Cause either way, the screen says game over and on the board... ...checkmate ©2024
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Feb 2, 2024
Feb 2, 2024 at 6:19 PM UTC
~••§•~ Playing Chess not Checkers ~•§•~
She likes me, so she does know human nature, or -- is she just stupid?
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Jul 11, 2023
Jul 11, 2023 at 4:19 AM UTC
[ She likes me, so she ]
Praises and glory be unto the Lord of our praise by whose grace we also earn our little praise The Lord who lords over every kind of lord such that he is referred to as the Lord of lords He who puts sleep to sleep and stays awake to watch over men even while they sleep He who is richer than our riches such that his riches are beyond where our imagination can ever reach He whose plans overrides every plan such that our plans must align with His plans to have our days ending up as we've planned Some doubt His existence but their existence is an evidence that there's a creator hence the creation got created Knowing Him is a gain so I stick with and write about Him again and again because I know what I gain
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Mar 11, 2023
Mar 11, 2023 at 3:42 AM UTC
Appreciation
Let me say that things are strange, I am a strange man in a strange world. I am barely here, A Wraith Seen only in reflection Moving in shadows Seldom acknowledged Yet sentient. Are you there? Can you hear me? My invisible form wishes to be seen. My existence justified only by function. "Love me... Like me... Hear me..." I say without sound. How can I manifest in this world?
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Dec 2, 2022
Dec 2, 2022 at 6:32 AM UTC
Wraith
Trace your thoughts slowly Across the moon’s lit Primrose, And ponder not on how she belongs to the Twilight. Linger not on the notions of Beauty’s Contrast… Of utter radiance amongst the Eventide— Lest you crave her Shadows. The unworthy swoon on false intoxications of allure, Betraying pheromones that lead only to Ruin. Breathe not in her presence and still your thoughts, which race ill-intended towards Premature release of longings— Unrequited. Dark Goddess of the Abyss Siren of Shadows Seeker of none, yet yearned by All. Accursed Aphrodite Preternatural Persephone Devourer of Darkfall, Merciless Maven of moon-drunk men Who quake with trepidation Under the pressure of your Wrath. Know that your fleeting fury fuels Fiery passions. Fulfills my need to know you If only briefly. Shall I caress legendary layered labyrinths Of thou’s lucid lithe mind? Soothe seared sacred chambers Of thine frostbitten Heart? Beautiful forlorn creature you are To only be seen for Carnality’s Delight. Know that I perceive you. Past Ethereal Elegance Beyond the bonds of Crescent Shackles. Embodiment of Evanescent Evenings Impermanence intertwined in Insufferable aching… Understand that your Acrimony is Admired. This altruism All-encompassing. Allow me to detect deformities Deep within Defenses Deterred— Hollow conclaves concealing Corrugated corrupted Compliance. Humor my heartfelt hubris… Humble yourself before this Haunted man. Entreat, Embrace, Entrust This harrowed human husk With an ounce of your Obsidian Opulence. I proclaim to pronounce you as my Pessimistic Paramour. To never underestimate Our most unholy Union. To know that you belong to the Night Sky And must be unbound… Understand my ululating plea, To adore your admonishing Yet never resign to its False Adherence.
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Jun 4, 2022
Jun 4, 2022 at 3:43 AM UTC
Evanescent
Trace your thoughts slowly Across the moon’s lit Primrose, And ponder not on how she belongs to the Twilight. Linger not on the notions of Beauty’s Contrast… Of utter radiance amongst the Eventide— Lest you crave her Shadows. The unworthy swoon on false intoxications of allure, Betraying pheromones that lead only to Ruin. Breathe not in her presence and still your thoughts, which race ill-intended towards Premature release of longings— Unrequited. Dark Goddess of the Abyss Siren of Shadows Seeker of none, yet yearned by All. Accursed Aphrodite Preternatural Persephone Devourer of Darkfall, Merciless Maven of moon-drunk men Who quake with trepidation Under the pressure of your Wrath. Know that your fleeting fury fuels Fiery passions. Fulfills my need to know you If only briefly. Shall I caress legendary layered labyrinths Of thou’s lucid lithe mind? Soothe seared sacred chambers Of thine frostbitten Heart? Beautiful forlorn creature you are To only be seen for Carnality’s Delight. Know that I perceive you. Past Ethereal Elegance Beyond the bonds of Crescent Shackles. Embodiment of Evanescent Evenings Impermanence intertwined in Insufferable aching… Understand that your Acrimony is Admired. This altruism All-encompassing. Allow me to detect deformities Deep within Defenses Deterred— Hollow conclaves concealing Corrugated corrupted Compliance. Humor my heartfelt hubris… Humble yourself before this Haunted man. Entreat, Embrace, Entrust This harrowed human husk With an ounce of your Obsidian Opulence. I proclaim to pronounce you as my Pessimistic Paramour. To never underestimate Our most unholy Union. To know that you belong to the Night Sky And must be unbound… Understand my ululating plea, To adore your admonishing Yet never resign to its False Adherence.
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76
My ship has sailed, but has it really? There’s too much, too many of uncertain feelings And the storm in the robes of a lamb What is missed, does wet mean pleased? Four-leaved clover, it’s over My ship has sailed, I’m lost at sea Or am I the sea, too large to see me..? I wanted to care but I cared way too much The way to nowhere, the rays you can touch Burning bright, burning, burned over with grace Bear with me, I’ll carry thee You’ll be the ship And I’ll be the waves The waves, the waves The protector of the commotion Humor me, human slow as the wide oceans Blue in the face that never gets too green Inhuman remains hidden behind screens Protective smoke and the mirrors Mirrored to never get clearer I wanted to be there, I was way too much Getting there, got nowhere, the whole world to watch The bright star to follow to forget starts But bear with me, I’ll carry thee You’ll be the ship And I’ll be the waves The waves, the waves The ship, the waves, the golden shore views The ship, the waves, the forever cruise I wanted to care but I cared way too much The way to nowhere, the rays you can touch Burning bright, burning, burned over with grace Bear with me, I’ll carry thee You’ll be the ship And I’ll be the waves The waves, the waves Bear with me, I’ll carry thee Until you’ll be the ship Until I’ll be the waves Carry me always
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Sep 13, 2021
Sep 13, 2021 at 5:28 AM UTC
The Ship and the Waves
*** Success and contentment are symbiotic ! Life is pure potential; you are already the person you want to be, your perception is your reality, and all you need is self belief to exist with a sense of success. 42
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Apr 4, 2021
Apr 4, 2021 at 5:58 AM UTC
Success! 2
above the tumid silence of our lives where we might have a chance encounter with the ill comforted; removed from hope and desire in the stale winds of impermanence as pollen on the breeze to look upon us, magnanimously in eyes with tears
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Nov 16, 2020
Nov 16, 2020 at 7:54 AM UTC
Post Soiree
You are As **** as Your thoughts He had said me once
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Nov 4, 2020
Nov 4, 2020 at 6:23 PM UTC
What's ****
I see your golden gown, forming second skin, demanding, enslavement to its master; I see your bejeweled crown, displaying majestic sheen, commanding, thousand eyes from your suitors; But do I see you naked down, draped only in sunshine, acknowledging, the modesty of your creator?
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Jan 7, 2019
Jan 7, 2019 at 12:29 PM UTC
Modesty
There are people who don’t know The wrong things I have done The lives I have disrupted And I like it that way I like knowing not eveyone needs to judge what I have reaped and sowed for many years I have changed in unimaginable ways I promise I am not who you once knew And I’m sorry for the pain I have caused I know there is much But to the ones who love me And know there’s more than meets the eye But nonetheless admire who I am in present day Thank you for the encouraging love and support you bring me To be a new me each day and grow farther and farther from who I have been
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Dec 16, 2018
Dec 16, 2018 at 4:12 PM UTC
Growth
I have nothing to say. No words to write; My brain is blank. No rhythm to recite. Why? Why can’t I talk right now? I’ve got so much to say. And yet, I can’t say enough. The old words have no meaning. The new words have no value. Besides... Words can’t say much; Actions talk so much more. And words today have no final say, Actions stage the show. But I know you’re too close. You’re too close. What can I say to make my heart stay? I really don’t want to know.
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Jun 11, 2018
Jun 11, 2018 at 1:21 AM UTC
Words
Pink, never was my favorite color You were in Pink On our first meet Then, It happened Feel your presence In my first book Canvas: Echoes And Reflections Long live being eternal.
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Apr 25, 2018
Apr 25, 2018 at 9:29 AM UTC
On Pink
Humanities better days asking if their, OK today the way, nothing to say leaving them, far behind a tip too the waitress door opened for courtesy all we know, a poor man's show no room, civility nodding to acknowledge a simple recognition one human to another no walls and no partitions where did the switch get turned off when did we all agree? ignoring everyone, and else ourselves, a human absentee
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Feb 21, 2018
Feb 21, 2018 at 4:40 PM UTC
Oblivious Ignorance
Radioactive ammunition painfully entering My space that is barely big enough to breathe, I scream "Reality anyone probably experiences" And it justifies the minimization of my trauma while the Real answers plead escape From the corners of my soul Leaving me decomposing slowly in a silent anguish as Repeating abuse provokes emotionlessness When will these flashbacks cease to live within me? This Repressed anger precedes exhaustion If only I could break through the dams which hold my suffering and Release all pain engulfing My lungs and plaguing my hindered consciousness and I wish I could just say it But When I think of him I cannot breathe Diminished by my own fear and shame I've lost my voice once more So I'll try to spell it out for you
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Jul 10, 2017
Jul 10, 2017 at 4:23 PM UTC
(#2) Who Knew Four Letters Could Make Such a Difference
I never deemed myself as someone important, never thought of myself as someone worthy of acknowledgement from the world. I knew I wasn't the brightest star or the prettiest sky. I always thought of myself as the one hidden beneah the clouds. It was I who was always a shadow, a beautiful darkness that not everyone will come to know. There was nothing that amazing about me to those who couldn't truly see me, and yet I still manage to take comfort that only those who are perceptive and worthy enough will be able to see the true beauty that shines from within myself. It's exhilarating to know that I was found from the people who actually saw me as who I am, and not just the fabrication of the brightness shining from the moon, hiding its very, lonely dark side.
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Mar 16, 2016
Mar 16, 2016 at 3:39 AM UTC
I'm a shadow