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#bled
I blinked, but beheld it, the marching of warships, the broken caskets at the feet where bishops of Brixen worshipped, and the agonizing steps to the castle -- a spiritual climb -- gifts and prayers in each one's pocket, (you've got yours, I've got mine). And there it was opening in the sky: a woman, in between cycles, clothed with the sun; her groom carries her up those steps, they ring the bell, and make a wish for their love to flow against the current like sea flowers in the spring. I blinked, but beheld it, there was smoke, there was wind, there was nothing but the warm scent of potica, and pletna aplenty, their upright oarsmen rowing through the bloodstream. They row for the stillborn who never see the sun. But there is freewill, and there is sin. Our kingdom rise. Our kingdom fall. Forgive us first, Father, (our blood shall feed the earth).
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Jan 8, 2025
Jan 8, 2025 at 10:54 AM UTC
Bled in Slovenia
Let the morning rise But the sun's bled dry As the storm clouds tread Across the cold blue sky And then, smiles, The mourning night.
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Jan 10, 2021
Jan 10, 2021 at 6:51 AM UTC
Mourning Night
My heart split open and bled The sky turned lead Your words tread through my gut coiled around my belly Until I stopped breathing
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Jan 29, 2020
Jan 29, 2020 at 6:43 AM UTC
Words
Don't get too close I said what I had to say Knife blade razor sharp My thoughts too dark and gray No peace of mind Storm brewing in my head A gust of wind causing havoc From my wrist is where I bled
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Nov 8, 2019
Nov 8, 2019 at 1:39 AM UTC
Bled
Standing upon these novel halls The man, waiting Seeks temperance and a kindness from God He says, "Give to me the gift of your knowledge and I will smite your enemy--rebuild the garden and replace those fruits long lost" And his request echoes impotent through a voiceless hall He cries, wails, churns and smashes his dirtied knuckles on the walls He yells, buckles, whines and sputters Choked and lost in miserable, The flanking rooms locked and dark With constant voicing, gently call "Who upon ye has the gall, to name me Father" And he is quiet. ------ In Moscow the Siberian fall grips the air A wandering Dostoyevsky speaks in exhalations to the crack of gunshot in the dawn A brief tightening of callous rope around his dry poetic throat And at once his words sought to cull the exquisite embers of furious retort And he is silent. ---- The kindness of a failing city-state Conveyed on the precipice of a bay Jack teethed his frantic dharmas And said to Them, "What terminus of road Would ever serve my unwinding soul?" And as his gut trembled a final thought, His eyes turned skyward, above the clouds Where it was silent. ---- Dorigen, repenting the patient shores of tranquil sea Accusing the chalk of its blackened soul Traces the subtle dance of gulls As their drowning feathers face these ageless things whysper'd deep upon the winds And she is Silent. --- Basho, with a wanderer's grin In solumn steps between the grains Shades the path of unfamiliar road And every poem steeped within Where clouds are soft, where crickets sing Past warbling stream with cadence grim The Dao, leading ever onward Says to him, "Like water, do I rain." --- Milton, his misted eyes No light to guide their failed sight Trace an ancient knowing glance To Crown, his subtle circumstance No soul in life could see the might Who gave this man his funeral rites And when his words fall deaf at last On his forgotten time and wishful past He will stare deep into an inky void And see The stars for what they are: Light, dispersed between the dark. --- In the waning tide of Cresent lune Twilight casts a gentle hue Below the hill the city glows The Palatine, gold and new The ides, with consequence they come And with them carry the will be done Augustus' silent retinue of one Notes a sky of draining sun For Rome claws at all of Gaia's ******* And from sea to mount and desert dune Ancient Africa, nascent Gaul To Rome, will they forever fall In darkness, the Palatine shadow loomed Over web of flame-lit avenue For the roads all led to Rome that night For one small moment God guessed right Cesar's legions on the fields of Mars Clashed swords and drank to their Centurions As an Era waited to see the dawn And new blood to baptize the marbled Columns And in the farms beyond Rome, The shepherds walked their sheep to rest Where families returned to their homes With stories of the day's parades and jests And in the time Between the days When Rome slept and the crickets mated The world was cast in velvet night Lighted solely by constellation And in that moment God became silent. ---
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May 13, 2019
May 13, 2019 at 2:57 PM UTC
Morituri Te Salutant
Standing upon these novel halls The man, waiting Seeks temperance and a kindness from God He says, "Give to me the gift of your knowledge and I will smite your enemy--rebuild the garden and replace those fruits long lost" And his request echoes impotent through a voiceless hall He cries, wails, churns and smashes his dirtied knuckles on the walls He yells, buckles, whines and sputters Choked and lost in miserable, The flanking rooms locked and dark With constant voicing, gently call "Who upon ye has the gall, to name me Father" And he is quiet. ------ In Moscow the Siberian fall grips the air A wandering Dostoyevsky speaks in exhalations to the crack of gunshot in the dawn A brief tightening of callous rope around his dry poetic throat And at once his words sought to cull the exquisite embers of furious retort And he is silent. ---- The kindness of a failing city-state Conveyed on the precipice of a bay Jack teethed his frantic dharmas And said to Them, "What terminus of road Would ever serve my unwinding soul?" And as his gut trembled a final thought, His eyes turned skyward, above the clouds Where it was silent. ---- Dorigen, repenting the patient shores of tranquil sea Accusing the chalk of its blackened soul Traces the subtle dance of gulls As their drowning feathers face these ageless things whysper'd deep upon the winds And she is Silent. --- Basho, with a wanderer's grin In solumn steps between the grains Shades the path of unfamiliar road And every poem steeped within Where clouds are soft, where crickets sing Past warbling stream with cadence grim The Dao, leading ever onward Says to him, "Like water, do I rain." --- Milton, his misted eyes No light to guide their failed sight Trace an ancient knowing glance To Crown, his subtle circumstance No soul in life could see the might Who gave this man his funeral rites And when his words fall deaf at last On his forgotten time and wishful past He will stare deep into an inky void And see The stars for what they are: Light, dispersed between the dark. --- In the waning tide of Cresent lune Twilight casts a gentle hue Below the hill the city glows The Palatine, gold and new The ides, with consequence they come And with them carry the will be done Augustus' silent retinue of one Notes a sky of draining sun For Rome claws at all of Gaia's ******* And from sea to mount and desert dune Ancient Africa, nascent Gaul To Rome, will they forever fall In darkness, the Palatine shadow loomed Over web of flame-lit avenue For the roads all led to Rome that night For one small moment God guessed right Cesar's legions on the fields of Mars Clashed swords and drank to their Centurions As an Era waited to see the dawn And new blood to baptize the marbled Columns And in the farms beyond Rome, The shepherds walked their sheep to rest Where families returned to their homes With stories of the day's parades and jests And in the time Between the days When Rome slept and the crickets mated The world was cast in velvet night Lighted solely by constellation And in that moment God became silent. ---
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98
She was forever Her lips Bled lipstick Dark hair Stormed Hearts wine throbbed Castled beauty etheral Ghostly girl Woolen scarf Returned all love Smoky *****
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Jan 29, 2019
Jan 29, 2019 at 12:21 AM UTC
She was
Maybe the big picture isn't as pretty when you look up close. You can see how the colors have bled, How the paint has chipped, How the colors have faded. Then, no one wants to look at the details. They just want to see the pretty. The distance-blurred scenery. The seemingly sharp lines And the seemingly vivid colors, But the harsh reality is that nothing is pretty When you look a little deeper Or search a little harder Because only then can you see How messed up everything really is.
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May 9, 2018
May 9, 2018 at 12:15 PM UTC
the placebo of "picture perfect"
The affection that you showed Was a bait to trap me Behind your angelic face Were fangs I couldn’t see You broke my heart ant ripped my soul Until there was nothing left in me Tied up in bondages I tried but couldn’t flee The temptation to be loved made me fall for a devil The devil that were you And by the time I emerged from your hell I was all black and blue You stood there smiling Watching me while I bled Now I’ll make you pay For every single tear I shed Go run away from me But I gonna chase you down You’ll lie there repenting for your sins While I’ll straighten my crown
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Mar 20, 2018
Mar 20, 2018 at 8:33 AM UTC
Love with a devil
we really know carnal knowledge F U we really know ? ... .. .
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Mar 1, 2018
Mar 1, 2018 at 8:11 AM UTC
Untitled
You had said you'd never change Yet you just pushed me away From your very wide range Did you, even once, think of me before the act You knew I would be left shattered Yet you choose to leave our only pact When you were gone my heart had bled I was broke till I learnt the true reason I could never be your's to cherish and so you had fled Everyone has to go, came the harsh reality live I now knew the truth that You are remembered only when you are no more alive Don't you ever now try to come close You would only be killed and wounded Because I am just a threat that you now pose
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Aug 15, 2017
Aug 15, 2017 at 1:28 AM UTC
Threat
Like, the red and blue chalky color of pain, Their words bled from me. Then, like, the the sweet and minty taste of happiness, You cleaned and mended the wound.
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Sep 29, 2016
Sep 29, 2016 at 5:03 PM UTC
-The color of pain and taste of happiness-
The bells tolled in silent air, no mummers Where uttered in haste as white cloth over Black draped upon their figures. On the desecrated reminisce of ash petals That grow in this place each is picked with Elegance so not to fracture there fragility. A new one Is found to replace those that Unveiled their voices on solemn oaths to words Never to be uttered, they surrendered it t air. Voices of blood echoed on the floor, a chastity Forsaken and white cloth drank upon the wine Till it had its fill, then voiced its intent in puddles. The shaded leaf was gently dissected between fingers And where lips blessed word, the ash sealed them with The twine of dead embers, and they screamed silently. Silken coverings where bestowed on the vacant realms Of purities, in the convent of silence where the dead Don't speak and muteness is a sound only heard.
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Jan 21, 2016
Jan 21, 2016 at 4:58 PM UTC
Sisters Of The Silent Ash
we take a breath I have a smoke thank you for giving me your cold you rub the menthol on my chest I hold the camphor to my breast sometimes all it takes is just a jacket button to break. 10 minutes on they'll drink champagne and have their fun with party games everybody yelling "cheese" 10 minutes from a third-world country in the shadow of the rock they don't have anyone that'll help there isn't garbage on the ground its the street that makes up the whole town I know you don't even want to talk You won't even take my calls} After three years on and off I would do anything at all. Have the child of my blood Then with blood I'd have enough. Just a picture fairy tale For a man with a cold and betrayed.
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May 23, 2014
May 23, 2014 at 12:32 AM UTC
Palo Alto