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#elemental
To have you is God's finest gift To hear To love To feel To hold you is my greatest pleasure To taste To smell To look and see To believe To be live To believe with you To be live with you Define be·lieve /bəˈlēv/ "1. Accept as true; feel sure of the truth. 2. Hold as an opinion; think or suppose."
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Mar 6
Mar 6, 2026 at 10:02 AM UTC
To have and to hold you
The Archons Attempt to Mock the Fool — and End Up Mocking Themselves I. The Wind’s Rebuttal (That Wasn’t) “You laugh at law, you dancing breeze, Yet I, the ruler, set decrees!” The Wind just swirled his crown away— “Oh dear, your words are made of day.” The Archon coughed and puffed his chest: “I meant… yes, well… I jest!” (But no one laughed, except the sky.) II. The Fire’s Boast “Ha! I can burn your little jest! I am wrath, and I am blessed!” The Fire blinked once, then twice, then smiled, “So bright, yet still so mild.” The Archon’s flame devoured his pride, And left him cold and mortified. (A soft giggle flickered through the coals.) III. The River’s Retort “I’ll dam your words, you silver tongue! I’ll freeze your laugh where songs are sung!” The River rippled, “Oh, please do— I’d love to see what freezes you.” He stomped his staff; she washed it clean. “How rude,” he said. “How serene,” she grinned. (The current carried off his crown again.) IV. The Earth’s Complaint “He mocks our thrones! He mocks our might!” cried the Archon, shaking stone with spite. The Earth yawned deep: “Then plant a tree.” “A tree?” he spat. “What mockery!” “Exactly so,” she said and hummed, “You’re learning, dear—just stay un-numbed.” (Roots crept up and tickled his pride.) V. The Lightning Duel “Strike him down!” one shouted high, “I’ll split his grin and scorch the sky!” But Lightning zigged, refused to zag, “He’s quicker, friend—perhaps just brag?” The Archon fell in smoking awe; The heavens whispered, “Nice last draw.” (Thunder applauded, purely out of pity.) VI. The Mist’s Mischief “Reveal yourself, you jesting shade!” The Archon roared. The Mist just played. “Reveal myself? But which one, dear? The one you made, or one you fear?” He swung at fog and missed again, His logic dripping, thin as rain. (Even his echo sighed “good try.”) VII. The Star’s Debate “You cannot laugh! You have no crown!” He yelled up at the heavens’ frown. The stars blinked once, a slow applause— “We shine for fun, not for your laws.” “But order! Rank! Celestial plan!” “Oh hush,” they said, “You’re mostly tan.” (Constellations rearranged into the word “oops.”) VIII. The Echo’s Confusion “Fool! Fool!” the Archon’s voice resounds, Yet each shout softens as it bounds. “Fool…” it fades, “…cool…” then “true…” then “play…” Until the thought just drifts away. The caves all hum the Pilgrim’s tune, While echoes blush beneath the moon. (The Archon vows never to yell indoors again.) IX. The Cosmic Punchline The Pilgrim’s laugh now circles near, A sound the Archons hate to hear. They raise their hands in false command, “Stop that mirth! Obey! Re-stand!” But laughter folds their thrones to dust, Their dignity begins to rust. The universe giggles, small and kind— “You can’t out-joke the unconfined.” XIII. The Pilgrim’s Encore (Yes—he skips a number. He would.) “Dear Archons, bless your earnest hearts, You tried to duel with cosmic arts! Yet humor’s not a game of war— It’s letting go of what you’re for. So take my gift, my jester’s plea: Learn to laugh, and you’ll be free.” (He bows. The elements cheer. The curtain falls—made of dawn and dew.)
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Oct 31, 2025
Oct 31, 2025 at 2:19 PM UTC
The Elemental Replies to the Pilgrim
The Archons Attempt to Mock the Fool — and End Up Mocking Themselves I. The Wind’s Rebuttal (That Wasn’t) “You laugh at law, you dancing breeze, Yet I, the ruler, set decrees!” The Wind just swirled his crown away— “Oh dear, your words are made of day.” The Archon coughed and puffed his chest: “I meant… yes, well… I jest!” (But no one laughed, except the sky.) II. The Fire’s Boast “Ha! I can burn your little jest! I am wrath, and I am blessed!” The Fire blinked once, then twice, then smiled, “So bright, yet still so mild.” The Archon’s flame devoured his pride, And left him cold and mortified. (A soft giggle flickered through the coals.) III. The River’s Retort “I’ll dam your words, you silver tongue! I’ll freeze your laugh where songs are sung!” The River rippled, “Oh, please do— I’d love to see what freezes you.” He stomped his staff; she washed it clean. “How rude,” he said. “How serene,” she grinned. (The current carried off his crown again.) IV. The Earth’s Complaint “He mocks our thrones! He mocks our might!” cried the Archon, shaking stone with spite. The Earth yawned deep: “Then plant a tree.” “A tree?” he spat. “What mockery!” “Exactly so,” she said and hummed, “You’re learning, dear—just stay un-numbed.” (Roots crept up and tickled his pride.) V. The Lightning Duel “Strike him down!” one shouted high, “I’ll split his grin and scorch the sky!” But Lightning zigged, refused to zag, “He’s quicker, friend—perhaps just brag?” The Archon fell in smoking awe; The heavens whispered, “Nice last draw.” (Thunder applauded, purely out of pity.) VI. The Mist’s Mischief “Reveal yourself, you jesting shade!” The Archon roared. The Mist just played. “Reveal myself? But which one, dear? The one you made, or one you fear?” He swung at fog and missed again, His logic dripping, thin as rain. (Even his echo sighed “good try.”) VII. The Star’s Debate “You cannot laugh! You have no crown!” He yelled up at the heavens’ frown. The stars blinked once, a slow applause— “We shine for fun, not for your laws.” “But order! Rank! Celestial plan!” “Oh hush,” they said, “You’re mostly tan.” (Constellations rearranged into the word “oops.”) VIII. The Echo’s Confusion “Fool! Fool!” the Archon’s voice resounds, Yet each shout softens as it bounds. “Fool…” it fades, “…cool…” then “true…” then “play…” Until the thought just drifts away. The caves all hum the Pilgrim’s tune, While echoes blush beneath the moon. (The Archon vows never to yell indoors again.) IX. The Cosmic Punchline The Pilgrim’s laugh now circles near, A sound the Archons hate to hear. They raise their hands in false command, “Stop that mirth! Obey! Re-stand!” But laughter folds their thrones to dust, Their dignity begins to rust. The universe giggles, small and kind— “You can’t out-joke the unconfined.” XIII. The Pilgrim’s Encore (Yes—he skips a number. He would.) “Dear Archons, bless your earnest hearts, You tried to duel with cosmic arts! Yet humor’s not a game of war— It’s letting go of what you’re for. So take my gift, my jester’s plea: Learn to laugh, and you’ll be free.” (He bows. The elements cheer. The curtain falls—made of dawn and dew.)
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Water that flows, it moves in its own way, The feelings I have, they're here to stay. Earth ever strong, ever resilient, never waiving, When we're together,  you're always misbehaving. Fire that burned with passion and desire, What we felt for each other I thought would never expire. Air that we breathe it surrounds us all, Of all the people I'd met, you were the one that made me fall.
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Oct 27, 2025
Oct 27, 2025 at 9:14 AM UTC
Elemental
A body bigger than anything we've seen before Wings longer than a bus and wider than a house Teeth sharp and point like looking in a alligators mouth! Scales shining like a ruby in the light A tail swaying so hard it hit most rocks Leg's that crushes the ground beneath it's feet Claws to ripped fresh meat A roar so loud It pierced the clouds Elements of all sorts Fire, Earth, Air Wind, Metal So much more A beast with such power Sure to make you cowered Only the bravest dare go against it Sleeping in caves Protecting the treasure So will guide you and some will **** It's all up to their will Facing a creature so intelligent It's would cause fear and worry But also worship and love We all know the beast i speak of The dragon! It goes by many names The thing we all grew to love A dragon, More like a god from above A blessing and A Curse That's the best way to put it A Dragon i bet you can't wait to see it To see it in the sky Flying high over the town Hearing roars the sound so close yet so far Wishing to be blessed We all know what a dragon is capable of But see we will risk everything just to get near A dragon Something we both love and Fear
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Apr 5, 2021
Apr 5, 2021 at 7:13 PM UTC
A dragon
gazing at this man i notice behind his eyes you can see the way he loves is almost like wind and rain. it is soft and gentle, pure and fearless, passionate but innocent. as he looks up gaze meeting mine i hope his wind and rain longs for my earth and fire.
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Mar 12, 2019
Mar 12, 2019 at 2:13 AM UTC
take a good look
Twisting, turning, churning, swirling My heart is a maelstrom Consuming emotion Twisting endlessly Swirling perpetually Tossing on the water A beautiful, impassioned, blue maelstrom. Twisting, turning, churning, swirling My heart is a leaf Consuming peace Hovering incessantly Soaring tirelessly Tossing in the wind A beautiful, tranquil, green leaf. Twisting, turning, churning, swirling My heart is a blaze Consuming wrath Flaming constantly Combusting continualy Tossing in the fire A beautiful, violent, red, blaze Twisting, turning, churning, swirling, My heart is a stone Consuming structure Tumbling boundlessly Crumbling unendingly Tossing on the earth A beautiful, exact, brown, stone.
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Feb 26, 2019
Feb 26, 2019 at 6:53 PM UTC
Elemental Swirl
I stand with roots deep into my mother With branches out stretching towards my father And Light from the rising sun reflecting within my eyes. Machi curing, Machi healing, I sing your song. I feel your love. Mi Pachamama So full of love Your flow of life, ever flowing Your river of sound, ever singing Your stream of light, forever shinning. How can I ever cry when I am within your arms? Arising with the warming sun Flowing through the air on the breath of her winds So softly the clouds release her love As they are caressed by the tops of her mountains. Her waters of love flowing… Trickling down onto the forest Gathering into the brooklets, Streams, riverlets, and rivers Satisfying the thirst of all her creations. The sound of pan flutes filling my ears The dance of chi coursing through Even this body, this gift, this flesh. Singing her lullaby Embracing & soothing this tired soul. Softly the winds bring the colors Of her song into my beating heart. Machi soothing Machi healing. Machi Curing Machi, singing me well with Her love Mi Pacha Mama , so full of love Your flow of life, ever flowing Your river of sound, ever singing Your stream of light, forever shinning. How can I ever cry when I am within your arms? Healing, Soothing, Curing, Love I sing your song. I sing your love Mi Pacha Mama…
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Jan 17, 2019
Jan 17, 2019 at 2:26 AM UTC
Between Heaven & Earth
With iron in our blood and water in our eyes It’s hard to explain why death we cannot defy Because the metal that’s made us is just rearranged dirt and dust As we as a society are ****** forward by scientific wanderlust Perpetual drive to figure out what is human while forgetting to be a person But the human condition worsens as we evolve to a certain urban version A claimed advanced people with brain and brawns for power It becomes easy to forget nature’s showers; the trees and flowers Never forget your origins. Never forget where you come from The Earth that made you isn't just a drum for you to beat with your thumb With iron in our blood and water in our eyes We lose our elemental touch as the world continues to cry
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Nov 23, 2018
Nov 23, 2018 at 11:37 PM UTC
A Natural Flow
He says I smell like rain, so to complement me he smells of freshly washed stone. Dust rising in the air, sometime in April, when my showers have cleansed him. We are not the same person. He is grounded, I live in the air 'til I come crashing to the ground, where he waits for me. They say water will break earth. He's broken me instead, in the most beautiful way, and together we will create mountains; Unscalable and true, Deep and ancient and wise. And when we are dead we will stand monumented. Our journey through life, when he was rough and I was a storm of fury and form, and you will remember us.
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Oct 4, 2018
Oct 4, 2018 at 4:31 PM UTC
Ambrosia
(campfire poetry) WE ARE FIRE, WE COULD BE WATER Flickering, fluttering, licking all it touches Through another log it goes; Spreading warmth, consuming everything, Atoms and particles Splitting and shifting in throes. Fascination, energy at its purest. An open flame, made malleable By the hands that feed it or quench it. There is no greater exhibition Of something as infallible In its awe-inspiring might It is an eternal fight Between that which is to be consumed And that which is to be construed Into something new, and different. And so, we are one with the element That awes us and terrifies us at the same time. Our life is built On the graveyard of our ancestry; Our homes are powered Through the sacrificial burning of past lives. The food we eat is life from our perspective, Yet it is death itself for all else. The trees we cut down, the animals we torture, The lives we take, the populations we uproot; Our way of life is an endless reenactment Of an ant being crushed by a boot No life is sacred, all can be loot. We are fire, we could be water; A more gentle element than most. A soothing, balming agency Like the overachiever who dares not boast. Both are harmful in excess, Both can be destructive, Only one is restorative. And so, we choose to be fire; We torch, burn, consume, Until all that is around us Transitions to its post-human state. A lifeless mass of black and grey, An emotionless, bottomless decay. Alas, as these ruminations grind to a halt, I find myself desperately looking for the fault That has created the chasm that brought us here. Where exactly did we go wrong? How did we go from being masters of our fate To this dark, ominous presence That shrouds all there is? The Renaissance, the Enlightenment, and all the revolutions that were and will be; The great men and women who dedicated their lives For a better future. To you, we should apologise - although it wasn't all in vain, There still is a thousand-mile journey One that has not gone very far. And so, we choose to be fire, When we could be water...
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Jan 5, 2018
Jan 5, 2018 at 4:47 AM UTC
We Are Fire, We Could be Water
(campfire poetry) WE ARE FIRE, WE COULD BE WATER Flickering, fluttering, licking all it touches Through another log it goes; Spreading warmth, consuming everything, Atoms and particles Splitting and shifting in throes. Fascination, energy at its purest. An open flame, made malleable By the hands that feed it or quench it. There is no greater exhibition Of something as infallible In its awe-inspiring might It is an eternal fight Between that which is to be consumed And that which is to be construed Into something new, and different. And so, we are one with the element That awes us and terrifies us at the same time. Our life is built On the graveyard of our ancestry; Our homes are powered Through the sacrificial burning of past lives. The food we eat is life from our perspective, Yet it is death itself for all else. The trees we cut down, the animals we torture, The lives we take, the populations we uproot; Our way of life is an endless reenactment Of an ant being crushed by a boot No life is sacred, all can be loot. We are fire, we could be water; A more gentle element than most. A soothing, balming agency Like the overachiever who dares not boast. Both are harmful in excess, Both can be destructive, Only one is restorative. And so, we choose to be fire; We torch, burn, consume, Until all that is around us Transitions to its post-human state. A lifeless mass of black and grey, An emotionless, bottomless decay. Alas, as these ruminations grind to a halt, I find myself desperately looking for the fault That has created the chasm that brought us here. Where exactly did we go wrong? How did we go from being masters of our fate To this dark, ominous presence That shrouds all there is? The Renaissance, the Enlightenment, and all the revolutions that were and will be; The great men and women who dedicated their lives For a better future. To you, we should apologise - although it wasn't all in vain, There still is a thousand-mile journey One that has not gone very far. And so, we choose to be fire, When we could be water...
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58
some of us are bog people we live with the snails and the maggots making bacteria we're suckers for substance the dirt speaks to us some of us are bog people we hang with the microorganisms making pilgrimages we're slimey silt and silage full-tilt and raw the dirt wants us dig it or dig it not we can't help it some of us are just bog people
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Nov 28, 2017
Nov 28, 2017 at 6:39 AM UTC
Some Of Us Are Bog People
Fire Fire Burning Bright, As I See Your Shining Light, Fire Burning With Strong Might And Sets My Soul Alight
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Feb 1, 2017
Feb 1, 2017 at 11:10 AM UTC
Fire Fire
Crystal sparkles— From within, with ores, Mineral, quartz, precious Commonalities from earths Core.  Wind has attempted To make shy marks— falling Sorrowfully short and water Has edged and smoothed By centuries too of trying. This then was their show, A kind of immortal love, Everlasting by its trials, As even the sun knows, For a ley line, etched so fey, Runs each wild orbs circumference, Separates moss from clean stone, Tracing the path of a star.
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Dec 18, 2015
Dec 18, 2015 at 6:57 PM UTC
Wisdom from a Stone
Blazing inferno! Now I will carry water; Through ice-mountain pass
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Nov 23, 2015
Nov 23, 2015 at 1:41 PM UTC
Haiku: Elemental
Quiet little One... No longer must you cling To those clamouring, Corrosive thoughts of old. Accept that We Were All born yesterday. And again today... And in every passing hour. So even Now, Our spirit pulsing with the Moment. Breathe as the sky breathes... One continuous sigh of Completion. A subtle forward motion; Effortless, attentive, Unpolluted in contentment. Arm yourself with joy, Infinitely beguiled by life, This plethora of blessings; Never ceasing to revel in a Common state of wonder. Your awkward smile, Your broken shine, Your gentle sorrows; They light the candle Of your eye; becoming Amplifiers of your beauty... Sparkling rays of laughter, Tossed like tinsel, Across each heartfelt Conversation. Waken to the embrace of Human error; For both Comedy and Tragedy Are remedies we share.
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Oct 29, 2015
Oct 29, 2015 at 11:35 AM UTC
Loving You is Loving Me
I saw her there, standing in the shade of a thicket; birch trees in the failing Autumn. The long grass caressed her; the wind stirred her hair. Lovely she, in the failing Autumn, there, on the cusp of winter. Lightning; storm on the horizon. Green eyes lifted to catch the rain, falling, there in the nearing distance. She breathes in, out, her eyes fall closed as she tastes the air; rain and soil, sunbaked in the past heat of the noontime. Grass, wafting upwards. The trees stir; the shadows of the leaves flit across her form, face uplifted to the rising storm. Her raiment snaps, back and forth; the winds uprising, howling forerunner of the coming storm. Her hair streams back, a midnight pennant, running out all behind her. The roaring of the winds upsurges in its splendor, its howling crescendo reached at last; The trees bend, backwards in the gale, graceful in their dying, leaves torn and scattered, out among the plains, and across the rippling woodlands, soaring in the ecstasy of the winds. She stands, there, in the moment before the storm, straight she is, and tall, swaying as the trees wherein she stands, pale in the twilight. The wind howls in wanton abandon, wild and glorious; rain strikes the waiting earth, the grass bends in homage, down before the torrent descending. The lightning cracks in the darkling sky, the thunder roars in violent time; the storm falls in the failing Autumn; darkness comes in the clouds obscurity, ebon in the raging heavens, and all was lost there, save the wind, and the rain, and the darkness of the storm.
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Sep 20, 2015
Sep 20, 2015 at 10:01 PM UTC
Beauty, and the Coming of the Storm
I saw her there, standing in the shade of a thicket; birch trees in the failing Autumn. The long grass caressed her; the wind stirred her hair. Lovely she, in the failing Autumn, there, on the cusp of winter. Lightning; storm on the horizon. Green eyes lifted to catch the rain, falling, there in the nearing distance. She breathes in, out, her eyes fall closed as she tastes the air; rain and soil, sunbaked in the past heat of the noontime. Grass, wafting upwards. The trees stir; the shadows of the leaves flit across her form, face uplifted to the rising storm. Her raiment snaps, back and forth; the winds uprising, howling forerunner of the coming storm. Her hair streams back, a midnight pennant, running out all behind her. The roaring of the winds upsurges in its splendor, its howling crescendo reached at last; The trees bend, backwards in the gale, graceful in their dying, leaves torn and scattered, out among the plains, and across the rippling woodlands, soaring in the ecstasy of the winds. She stands, there, in the moment before the storm, straight she is, and tall, swaying as the trees wherein she stands, pale in the twilight. The wind howls in wanton abandon, wild and glorious; rain strikes the waiting earth, the grass bends in homage, down before the torrent descending. The lightning cracks in the darkling sky, the thunder roars in violent time; the storm falls in the failing Autumn; darkness comes in the clouds obscurity, ebon in the raging heavens, and all was lost there, save the wind, and the rain, and the darkness of the storm.
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Never mind the world behind my eyes. Or the earth within my skin. Neither the diamonds swimming in teal blood. For these are unfairly fairy tales. Stale stories plucked from a withered imagination. Tilting on the edge of a translucent dream. The region which surrounds my form is lucid. A prism reflecting the many colors of my pieces. They who dwells in the internal galaxy knows me well. For I am the matter which you breath in and blow out. I am Human Dusk. The sunset and sunrise of old endings and new beginnings.
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Jan 21, 2015
Jan 21, 2015 at 5:00 AM UTC
Human Dusk
*elemental force her hips sway in Paris his dreaming hands in Montana entangled geography subsides*
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Jul 17, 2014
Jul 17, 2014 at 2:23 PM UTC
Entanglement
Swords make the men yield On a desolate field With no vision but the night Careful not to crawl upon those individual frights Those that say, To save it for a better day Underestimate the courage You bring with just one motive Standing upon the crowd Chanting ever so loud In the name of noble men Who thrive for the ambition again Darting with arms full, "They won't escape the bull!" It aviated across grassy paths To show all those who turn the roaring wrath But such of a warrior you stood, Did what no man could And flushed the darkness into its ditch Only showing the light of it Of all the strength and love that posses your heart This war was not seen from the start Though, you gathered the men Gracefully, Lending your hand to the fallen friend Wars come and go, But this is what you shall always know: You are the fire Igniting a homes ablaze even higher You are the air Having your essence everywhere You are the water Flowing freely through all slaughter You are the Earth The honor which gives our lives all of its worth Though elemental creations do not suffice, The mastery of the beautiful bull within you, From morning To night.
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Apr 14, 2014
Apr 14, 2014 at 2:17 AM UTC
N.E.W.