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#artistic
I kiss you between two silences Where the threads unravel The days drag on Carving a hole in the imagination I will mend them with a desire Bought from a street musician I gave him a handful of obsolete dreams Između Ljubim te između dvije tišine Gdje se konci rasplicu Dani vuku Praveći rupu u mašti Krpiću ih željom Kupljenom od uličnog svirača Dala sam mu šaku zastarjelih snova
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May 2
May 2, 2026 at 4:21 AM UTC
Between
• Iceberg blue Glistenshore Torn from Hemingway Slow, with pages of fluttering interference Brightening, multiplying Often into dream •
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Apr 15
Apr 15, 2026 at 4:59 PM UTC
Sometimes, I Can't Make Full Sentences
I try to paint you, but the canvas becomes a tomb— swallowing every color because it knows you were never meant to stay. My brush shivers like a heart on its last hope— calling your face from the ashes, yet every line melts into a wound shaped like you. How do I carve your light from a night that keeps stealing you? How do I hold your shadow when even shadows abandon me? You are the storm in my ribs— a tender ruin, a beautiful ache that keeps breaking me open just to remind me I once loved. Still I chase you— through silence, through darkness— believing that if my longing burns bright enough, you might slip back into my hands like a miracle I was never meant to keep.
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Nov 27, 2025
Nov 27, 2025 at 4:14 AM UTC
Portrait of a Lost Light
GLIMPSE My heart a pouch of rich wine overlays yours a drop of blood spilled over an arum lily waits with longing intense, retains no tears as it remembers its cringes of final fear when it jumped into your chest of steel, smell of fruit juice, water and old leather all around My soul lays naked in a room of light while your music plays next door two plumed serpents dance slow dances to rhythms of drums and pipes, notes of knowingness, sounds repeated I listen again and again Spacious a white room waits aged and innocent in a no-zone forest of mushrooms, poppies and pebbles as the piano vibrates with silence while Goddess does not speak of a mission that never ends, watching for symbols that appear and vanish while progress moves worse than a snail with a footsore over splintered glass Surrender struggles to be free ! Drops in space hung on Venus threads ******* heaving and falling, passing tests of temperance, strength, solitude swallow death and darkened silence deep in a psyche of five thousand years Across oceans of space my thoughts travel not knowing whether they reach your light or hermit in your head or the warehouse in which you play with waves of froth on ***** sand seals and gulls glide and shout A lighthouse looks on still and sure muck in the harbour awaits an embrace fried chips beckon and call to fill my open belly of waiting Sun as love struggles for freedom on a higher plane with yours in ether on a wall I read Still you sleep a hundred thousand sleeps of fear and watchfulness in the distance runs Skeleton Woman with tangled bones to be untangled knowing that long ago she completed her work of inner peace with honours Spartacus and Helen looking on I wait not for you alone but to fill your Heart for another work of love, to drink your tears slate your thirst ~become one, two, three to ten again as dough rises with surprises inside eggs fresh full, two yolks and cream to be eaten on a jetty of harmonious voids Love lost and found, lost and found all over again ©ghairodanielspoetryandsong2003
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Sep 11, 2025
Sep 11, 2025 at 4:55 AM UTC
Glimpse
GLIMPSE My heart a pouch of rich wine overlays yours a drop of blood spilled over an arum lily waits with longing intense, retains no tears as it remembers its cringes of final fear when it jumped into your chest of steel, smell of fruit juice, water and old leather all around My soul lays naked in a room of light while your music plays next door two plumed serpents dance slow dances to rhythms of drums and pipes, notes of knowingness, sounds repeated I listen again and again Spacious a white room waits aged and innocent in a no-zone forest of mushrooms, poppies and pebbles as the piano vibrates with silence while Goddess does not speak of a mission that never ends, watching for symbols that appear and vanish while progress moves worse than a snail with a footsore over splintered glass Surrender struggles to be free ! Drops in space hung on Venus threads ******* heaving and falling, passing tests of temperance, strength, solitude swallow death and darkened silence deep in a psyche of five thousand years Across oceans of space my thoughts travel not knowing whether they reach your light or hermit in your head or the warehouse in which you play with waves of froth on ***** sand seals and gulls glide and shout A lighthouse looks on still and sure muck in the harbour awaits an embrace fried chips beckon and call to fill my open belly of waiting Sun as love struggles for freedom on a higher plane with yours in ether on a wall I read Still you sleep a hundred thousand sleeps of fear and watchfulness in the distance runs Skeleton Woman with tangled bones to be untangled knowing that long ago she completed her work of inner peace with honours Spartacus and Helen looking on I wait not for you alone but to fill your Heart for another work of love, to drink your tears slate your thirst ~become one, two, three to ten again as dough rises with surprises inside eggs fresh full, two yolks and cream to be eaten on a jetty of harmonious voids Love lost and found, lost and found all over again ©ghairodanielspoetryandsong2003
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40
It begins— not with a shape, nor a line, but a spark, a whisper, caught in design, something unseen, not yet thought, a seed before rising to light. Fingers trace the unseen design, pressing the silence, pulling the thread, molding what stirs, what longs to be said. The wheel turns, the rhythm wakes, clay that trembles, bends, and breaks— too much force, it shatters fast, too little, and it cannot last. Again, again, the hands return, not to command, but to discern. Then— the self dissolves. No hand, no clay, only motion, only sway, a pull, a pulse, something rising from the space between knowing and embrace. No thought remains, only touch, only trance, only creation’s quiet dance, shaping itself through the one who bends, to where the art itself intends. And when the wheel slows to its rest, when breath is deep and hands are pressed, who shapes, who surrenders— the hands, or what they manifest?
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Mar 23, 2025
Mar 23, 2025 at 5:54 AM UTC
The Dance of Creation
I                                                                                                       Up Used                                                                                            Me        To                                                                                Picked           Live                                                                    And                 On                                                     Around                    One                                       Came                          Big                               You                              Slope     Until                                     Downward
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Mar 5, 2025
Mar 5, 2025 at 1:58 PM UTC
Scrapbook Poem #152
she was artistic, unconsciously making everything ravishing she was poetic, everything she did was aesthetic —g.l
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Oct 7, 2024
Oct 7, 2024 at 12:55 PM UTC
her own art
save the platitudes for the post-breakdown shower; towel strewn on the floor, steam suffocating common sense. too little to soothe the hate. stained glass reflects broken pieces of our souls, a low hum ascending to screaming before bursting, limp. color stands still, where glass once was, attempting to rebuild it more vibrantly, in rebuke of the damage it barely survived. before anything else, know it meant nothing, means nothing. arbitrary value assigned by an unreliable narrator who drafted this story out of spite, boredom, hope, and rage. the ballpoint is sharpened against me and threatens to tear it all away, like the stained glass, like your bones. like all of you. maybe a poem will save you.
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Sep 27, 2025
Sep 27, 2025 at 11:22 AM UTC
this one burns a little
I've recently been told That music's for the bold And performance represents A simple flow of confidence While I think that's good to know I think there's more to music's glow Cause when I put my pen to paper I want me to be the shaper I aspire to hone my craft And not come off as over-daft But my music is my art Communication from the heart And that calls consideration Of musicians' motivation Cause when you stand up on the stage It's true the listener's the gauge Of if your music is worthwhile Or should be thrown into the pile So overall it's just a balance Of one's skill, but also talent So at the ending of the day, The final thing I'd like to say is... A is for Adam Atoms are for art I'll write like a free radical But on stage I'll play the part
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May 17, 2023
May 17, 2023 at 4:50 AM UTC
A is for Adam
Far, up high, An idol's cry, Her shining tears, Sprinkle the sky, Infinity's tomb, Brings cosmos bloom, Bringing life, And starlight's doom,— —Shining through, Celestia weeps. Painting warily, Creating merrily, Braiding hues, Working wearily, While painting shells, Her eyes still swell, Her canvas, sprinkled, As shining tears fell,— —Shining through, Celestia weeps. Gaze shifting upon her opus, To the Terra, formed with focus, As she peers, she fails to notice, Her heart's expire, soft necrosis, Yet again, a grieving seep, Striking hard, striking deep, Off again, her focus turns, Her mind taking a blinded leap,— —Shining through, Celestia weeps.
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Jul 7, 2021
Jul 7, 2021 at 12:58 PM UTC
Celestia I - Provenance
I caught you feeling... you stupid... How dare you feel and where's your brain? I caught you working... you stupid... Working all day hard with a level of thinking aligned Properly! I caught you learning,  caring, helping around, Trying to make life sweeter... Helping a wound fade away And the memory of that awful day become bearable. Are you that... stupid, stupid! Why don't you keep it all to yourself? I caught you having some ideals...! High and of the brave Angels adored! You stupid, stupid Child! How dare you even dream? How dare you believe and hope and scream and shout out your pain! How dare you stay! *** How dare you fight! How dare you be what you are You are not... Stupid... Stupid... The heart that ruined all that! How dare you be strong? You did it all at some level but wanted much more! How dare you be only a human? How dare you be much more? You got all tired of this... Stupid... Stupid... And walked away. How dare you be that strong? How dare I admire you? Stupid... Stupid... Heart and Soul taken to a ride by the Mind! How dare you walk away? Stupid thing... no! Lie! Image on a surface To remind us all When stupid, When arrogant And why. I caught you enjoying life. Well that's stupid! Again, you will get hurt, you stupid stupid thing. I caught you thinking... are you that stupid...? When will you learn to act? React. Do something! You stupid... Why don't you angel for us and fly? Show those wings that can carry the world to a better... 'You stupid? Why don' t you Angel inside? Without feelings, without thinking, without?... Only a cold machine, smart! Ah, I can finally breathe in and out!
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May 22, 2021
May 22, 2021 at 3:45 AM UTC
Breathing like... Hmm...
I caught you feeling... you stupid... How dare you feel and where's your brain? I caught you working... you stupid... Working all day hard with a level of thinking aligned Properly! I caught you learning,  caring, helping around, Trying to make life sweeter... Helping a wound fade away And the memory of that awful day become bearable. Are you that... stupid, stupid! Why don't you keep it all to yourself? I caught you having some ideals...! High and of the brave Angels adored! You stupid, stupid Child! How dare you even dream? How dare you believe and hope and scream and shout out your pain! How dare you stay! *** How dare you fight! How dare you be what you are You are not... Stupid... Stupid... The heart that ruined all that! How dare you be strong? You did it all at some level but wanted much more! How dare you be only a human? How dare you be much more? You got all tired of this... Stupid... Stupid... And walked away. How dare you be that strong? How dare I admire you? Stupid... Stupid... Heart and Soul taken to a ride by the Mind! How dare you walk away? Stupid thing... no! Lie! Image on a surface To remind us all When stupid, When arrogant And why. I caught you enjoying life. Well that's stupid! Again, you will get hurt, you stupid stupid thing. I caught you thinking... are you that stupid...? When will you learn to act? React. Do something! You stupid... Why don't you angel for us and fly? Show those wings that can carry the world to a better... 'You stupid? Why don' t you Angel inside? Without feelings, without thinking, without?... Only a cold machine, smart! Ah, I can finally breathe in and out!
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49
~ *atop the Manhattan skyline her similitude descends as rain we see her wonderwork we see her water-standing her very abandonment of draperies unassuming and artless where the heedless moths settle with bodies of mystic warmth colored with rose and a dash of flame* ~ – for Audrey Munson
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May 18, 2021
May 18, 2021 at 9:52 AM UTC
Heedless Moths
He is a talking flower with lips made of curving petals. Begging to hold his hand - which is a lovely saturation of pollen - is my unknown sunset quietly falling over him. I never knew I wanted so deeply to feel him, now there seems to exist a safety within my thoughts I never knew possible. In a way that is purely fantasy, he spins the world so fast I’ve fallen off it. Even when he walks he dances, allowing me to slowly rotate in the vortex of his spirit. How could I ever show him... How could I ever let him see, how he is the sinking throat of dawn blessing me with vision, and the medicine of my now fading paranoia.
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Nov 22, 2020
Nov 22, 2020 at 3:15 PM UTC
Did I even exist before?
Does an artist have a responsibility to steer their audience in a positive direction or is honesty and self expression all that is required?
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Jul 21, 2020
Jul 21, 2020 at 7:38 AM UTC
Artistic Responsibility
In a vast canvas, outside the spread of doubt the feathers from my brush start to settle. As my pupils stare through, I reach within my thoughts. Every movement and every breath... slowly desiccating through motionless actions of uncertainty and question... Have I seen her before? The harmonious sigh extracting a simple, no. The spread of wonder inside and around me start to grow marching up and down the peering eyes I tell myself that I know. Density and silence embracing the frames around her face. Then I remembered something else and slowly smiled inside the awe of skepticism peering through me I paused for a moment... just to wonder. Again, I wonder
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Jun 11, 2020
Jun 11, 2020 at 12:42 AM UTC
Wondered
Love is given to anyone born Later on, it starts to prickle like a thorn Between one's business and so on The heart gets too crusty for love to grow on But I swear I love you My love is unswerving and true Bigger than that dreamed by a romantic poet Artistic than that painted with a great palette I know you don't love me Though, I couldn't stop loving thee.
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Jun 1, 2020
Jun 1, 2020 at 3:33 PM UTC
My Love for you
My thoughts could run a marathon Faster than Usain Bolt But they can't focus All over the place From here To there Up high And down low but they never stay GROUNDED My words f l o a t away from me Like balloons set loose by a child "You don't care," they say I care too much I care to the point of pain Am I enough yet? I would cut myself open Rip out my heart How much of me is too much?
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May 30, 2020
May 30, 2020 at 8:35 PM UTC
A Quick Thought
Today is a day to celebrate, not to be taken as a given  Nor take for granted the gift of this our mortal life   To praise which is to pass from here onto life eternal    Don’t you know? It’s a mother who forms the endless circle     Where the circle begins and the circle should end      She opens a door with a key held only by her hands       Calling upon angels of heaven to grant her a soul        She has known me from before the first kingdom         When the Father brought light to our existence          Even then, she knew my flaws to their very essence           She welcomed me without an ounce fear or reservation            In humility, in obedience to the Father, in loving kindness             By our Creator’s love, by mother’s choosing, her bravery Today is her day                                                                                          My mother’s day
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Apr 12, 2020
Apr 12, 2020 at 4:22 AM UTC
777
In the silent night, silently your words like snow falls. Icely freezing my heart, its frosty whispers My soul freeze, my voice frozen A avalanche of saddened tears fall. My minds been rocked, an everest of thoughts in a crater I find It's depriving me of oxygen Our relationship was always a cliffhanger It's a mountain we both lustful, wanted, needed to climb. Waves of emotions washes over me roughly. It breaks, Every part of my broken heart drowning feelings caught in a whirlpool Rising inside of me, silently screaming It's haunting.
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Nov 22, 2019
Nov 22, 2019 at 12:51 AM UTC
Natural Forces
You fiddle with colors and make them bloom Like cherry blossoms in a dismal room You stitch the tatters and make it work Into a masterpiece of various quirks. You see the world as styles and hues An artist mixing her reds and blues To create a lilac sky with a sun that sets Into a supernova skyline where flamingos nest. You must keep that passion and hold it dear As it burns away many doubts and fears If Midas' touch turns all things to gold You make lifeless objects into stories told.
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Sep 17, 2019
Sep 17, 2019 at 9:55 PM UTC
The Aesthete
Same, same, same, same, Same, same, same; Words, words, words, words, words; Something about love, Something about life; Copy // paste broken feelings; Attempts at a deeper meaning; Trapped with the same words, Said differently; Seven hundred plus posted poems, Seven hundred more I scrapped; But every one I write, Feels like I'm on page one...
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Jul 22, 2019
Jul 22, 2019 at 2:54 PM UTC
Artistic Redundancy
Steady thumping, thumping. The boat travels downstream. The water is brown, from silt. The current is swift but calm. Trees line the edges of the river. Green foliage, thick on both sides. The sky is blue with white clouds. A bridge passes overhead, with cars. Downriver, a large load is being pushed, to the locks in the dam up ahead. The water is deep now and dark. An eagle cries out, and lets fly. I bring the small vessel to a stop, and watch all around me. A train on the side of the water, the barge moving away, trucks on a freeway above, the hum of shipping goods, and the beauty of nature in one. Tranquility, and constant motion. I slowly begin to turn around, and begin the steady trek, upriver to where I began.
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Jul 6, 2019
Jul 6, 2019 at 1:49 PM UTC
Downriver