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a product of his instinct, why use ten when two will do, and the ratio is increasingly progressive! **"lovely intimacy between poet and muse here, like an old friendship-made of fatigue and faith"^** the only reason why my hair, yet intact, despite old age's creep in every other elsewhere, although Gibson's, his sixteen, a superior concision of my endless, repetitive iterations, his literatation nonetheless is an insufficient to cures what ills me… to calm my heart, soothe my dreams , would render 99 of  mine 100 muses, and all your voices ungainly unemployable worsen yet, the disheartening palpitations that shake n' bake my very core, them those demons too, the contrapuntal hidden forces that rue my brain, well hell! poet complains!exclaims! for when the muses sleep, these devils roam, they creep, never permitting an easy sleep, and instead of poems, they give me forth in groans and moans, the unintelligible reverse of my ever~faithful muses's intimacy, the un~cooing of our pleasure, for when rhymes dewdrop^^ from the insertions from heaven's eyes, and then when, you and I together embrace, the harmony of spirit that a poem makes writer and reader sharers, the calm shaking of hearts well tickled, laughingly ratified, and even momentarily satiated and satisfied is our now combinatorial esprit de corps^^^ ~'~'''~~ just a wee ditzy ditty that fell onto a screen when reviewing my silly but true and utter faithful muses's^^^^ utterances, in being be tweening the quickest ten minutes of my ridiculous life <nml> 10/6 no tricks 2025 3:10am ~3:20am ~~~ and now let the real, hard-work of handiwork ahead, of writing something akin to a psalm, a prayer, a train of quatrains, a hiya to haikus, a ballad to bellow, you know, that serious stuffing that leaves us both 😢aweeping😪 with the unadulterated purest of joy
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Oct 6, 2025
Oct 6, 2025 at 3:50 AM UTC
Gibson's Succinct: "The Lovely Intimacy"
a product of his instinct, why use ten when two will do, and the ratio is increasingly progressive! **"lovely intimacy between poet and muse here, like an old friendship-made of fatigue and faith"^** the only reason why my hair, yet intact, despite old age's creep in every other elsewhere, although Gibson's, his sixteen, a superior concision of my endless, repetitive iterations, his literatation nonetheless is an insufficient to cures what ills me… to calm my heart, soothe my dreams , would render 99 of  mine 100 muses, and all your voices ungainly unemployable worsen yet, the disheartening palpitations that shake n' bake my very core, them those demons too, the contrapuntal hidden forces that rue my brain, well hell! poet complains!exclaims! for when the muses sleep, these devils roam, they creep, never permitting an easy sleep, and instead of poems, they give me forth in groans and moans, the unintelligible reverse of my ever~faithful muses's intimacy, the un~cooing of our pleasure, for when rhymes dewdrop^^ from the insertions from heaven's eyes, and then when, you and I together embrace, the harmony of spirit that a poem makes writer and reader sharers, the calm shaking of hearts well tickled, laughingly ratified, and even momentarily satiated and satisfied is our now combinatorial esprit de corps^^^ ~'~'''~~ just a wee ditzy ditty that fell onto a screen when reviewing my silly but true and utter faithful muses's^^^^ utterances, in being be tweening the quickest ten minutes of my ridiculous life <nml> 10/6 no tricks 2025 3:10am ~3:20am ~~~ and now let the real, hard-work of handiwork ahead, of writing something akin to a psalm, a prayer, a train of quatrains, a hiya to haikus, a ballad to bellow, you know, that serious stuffing that leaves us both 😢aweeping😪 with the unadulterated purest of joy
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I hear your hollow compliment, no gilded chains will bind me, see?   Respect my strength; Please, don’t patronise me. ©️Lizzie Bevis
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Nov 9, 2024
Nov 9, 2024 at 12:02 PM UTC
The Weight of Words