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#fascination
The last time I dreamed about you I planted the dream in soil. When I fell asleep and woke up. I believed you to have grown, Like any other flower. Even if you turned out to be a rose, I didn’t mind the ***** of a thorn. When I wiped my eyes There was a cactus in the soil. There are good dreams And there are bad dreams. Most bad dreams start off good. Then become prickly and cold. I didn’t care. I lugged you around with me everywhere. Pulling out the spines that stuck me. No matter where we went I considered them kisses From you to me, And me, I considered my dream A reality. Then you got larger. Then you got heavier. That happy lug turned to a hard pull. And those cute little ****** Turned into being stabbed. there’s a reason why most cactus’ Are found in the desert. And why some dreams Are just like a cactus
0
Nov 15, 2024
Nov 15, 2024 at 1:04 AM UTC
Dream like a Cactus
Why is it so interesting when someone else falls in love? Is our fascination purely voyeuristic, like the you-are-there of reality-TV? Is it jealousy or some unwavering belief in lovers as heroes? What is this relationship? We ask ourselves - and them - let’s take it apart and find out. Like those YouTube videos where you’re shown how to do French-tip nails. Is love an impulse, a one-time hookup or even a summer fling, or is it about finding ‘the one’ in the face of our own obligations and ineptitudes? Love’s ‘high concept’ - it’s many things at once - it’s physical, emotional, intimate - maybe even ****** Part of our interest has to be our affection (or dislike) of the characters involved. A relationship isn’t a ‘performance,’ of course, but as friends we might be considered an ‘audience’. Love is drama. There’s a cast - with their chemistry. There’s a plot - shot through with compelling incidents, difficult situations, tear-jerking agonies, and shocking twists. The sweet moments, between the actual ‘wow, this is happening’ and everyone finding out. The time the secret belongs to the lovers - that’s their chance to privately define their ungainly new reality - but soon enough, the world finds out, and there’s interest. At its best, love is the gentle handling of consciousness itself, to evoke the effective resonance of pleasure. But has it ever truly been a private experience? . . Songs for this: Me and Mrs. Jones by Michael Bublé (maybe the sexiest song ever) Me and Mr. Jones by Amy Winehouse
0
Jul 10, 2024
Jul 10, 2024 at 9:54 AM UTC
a little voyeurism
Why is it so interesting when someone else falls in love? Is our fascination purely voyeuristic, like the you-are-there of reality-TV? Is it jealousy or some unwavering belief in lovers as heroes? What is this relationship? We ask ourselves - and them - let’s take it apart and find out. Like those YouTube videos where you’re shown how to do French-tip nails. Is love an impulse, a one-time hookup or even a summer fling, or is it about finding ‘the one’ in the face of our own obligations and ineptitudes? Love’s ‘high concept’ - it’s many things at once - it’s physical, emotional, intimate - maybe even ****** Part of our interest has to be our affection (or dislike) of the characters involved. A relationship isn’t a ‘performance,’ of course, but as friends we might be considered an ‘audience’. Love is drama. There’s a cast - with their chemistry. There’s a plot - shot through with compelling incidents, difficult situations, tear-jerking agonies, and shocking twists. The sweet moments, between the actual ‘wow, this is happening’ and everyone finding out. The time the secret belongs to the lovers - that’s their chance to privately define their ungainly new reality - but soon enough, the world finds out, and there’s interest. At its best, love is the gentle handling of consciousness itself, to evoke the effective resonance of pleasure. But has it ever truly been a private experience? . . Songs for this: Me and Mrs. Jones by Michael Bublé (maybe the sexiest song ever) Me and Mr. Jones by Amy Winehouse
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Eyes searching eyes In a crowded room When your smiling eyes meets mine People disappear And time stands still Hypnotize me with your eyes Craving that drug you give me When you look at me Nobody knows Our secret language Our fascination And our fantasies never revealed
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Feb 17, 2024
Feb 17, 2024 at 1:50 PM UTC
Our Secret Language
You are in heaven, when she loves you. You are in hell, when she scorn. Her eyes have the power to shrivel your soul down to an insignificant little raisin. Her smile melts bodies into congealed mush. Without her say so, I’m merely anonymous, A vagabond, some ***** Trotting through the fields, outside of her heart, Hoping to gain entry past the gates. The scent of her, intoxicating, Like laughing gas, A jovial inebriant, As tranquillizing as her wholesome chortle. Who or what am I, by comparison, Without her eyes, her skin, The taste of her lips, A sip of blackberry brandy. Her legs, more perfect, refined than David, Between them, the Holy Grail of contentment, Where life begins, where it can end, At her say so— her command. ******* crafted by the hands of God, I marvel at the sight of such beauty, In such a grotesque world, That she owns with her movement as graceful as the wind. She makes me quiver, like salt on a slug, As her silky, slick locks flip over her shoulders, Those shoulders, help me, Forget Greek architecture. How dangerous it can be, To tread through the seas of her love, Anticipating rogue waves, This schooner musn’t capsize. Dancing with her, as if the last two on Earth, I sway her body, closely against to mine, Her passion radiating against my desire, Bound to create a combustion greater than the Big Bang. And that Big Bang, where our everything meets, Her breaths, short but sweet, Her gaze pierces through my existence, As I force confidence daring to look into her eyes, While I aim to satisfy her every desire. If I should be so bold, so foolish, To take her for granted, May my soul burn in Hell, For all of everlasting. I’m nothing without that woman, Women, thank God for ‘em, For there is no greater rendition of Nirvana, Accessible to mankind.
0
Nov 23, 2023
Nov 23, 2023 at 9:50 PM UTC
Woman
You are in heaven, when she loves you. You are in hell, when she scorn. Her eyes have the power to shrivel your soul down to an insignificant little raisin. Her smile melts bodies into congealed mush. Without her say so, I’m merely anonymous, A vagabond, some ***** Trotting through the fields, outside of her heart, Hoping to gain entry past the gates. The scent of her, intoxicating, Like laughing gas, A jovial inebriant, As tranquillizing as her wholesome chortle. Who or what am I, by comparison, Without her eyes, her skin, The taste of her lips, A sip of blackberry brandy. Her legs, more perfect, refined than David, Between them, the Holy Grail of contentment, Where life begins, where it can end, At her say so— her command. ******* crafted by the hands of God, I marvel at the sight of such beauty, In such a grotesque world, That she owns with her movement as graceful as the wind. She makes me quiver, like salt on a slug, As her silky, slick locks flip over her shoulders, Those shoulders, help me, Forget Greek architecture. How dangerous it can be, To tread through the seas of her love, Anticipating rogue waves, This schooner musn’t capsize. Dancing with her, as if the last two on Earth, I sway her body, closely against to mine, Her passion radiating against my desire, Bound to create a combustion greater than the Big Bang. And that Big Bang, where our everything meets, Her breaths, short but sweet, Her gaze pierces through my existence, As I force confidence daring to look into her eyes, While I aim to satisfy her every desire. If I should be so bold, so foolish, To take her for granted, May my soul burn in Hell, For all of everlasting. I’m nothing without that woman, Women, thank God for ‘em, For there is no greater rendition of Nirvana, Accessible to mankind.
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Trending upload: saturized, desensitized Caught in the inner workings, those ducks in a pond The sound of clicks in rapid s-t-a-c-c-a-t-o Don't run or fall, but film Send us transmission A moment in a fish bowl, looking out at life on a screen It didn't come bundled with the phone The gulf of dissonance started long before
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Jun 16, 2023
Jun 16, 2023 at 2:02 PM UTC
Killed On Video
Tomes of advice Let alive, in the room of cares Vehemence, instinct, attuned sighs Where the powers that be, continue until fared Are we the ears of purpose? Set in sides and meandering light The skill of another, to share the insight of us Should we enable a dance, of redoubt for might? My door of adding, as avarice is... The truth in long glances, with method to move Thought, the biding hope of when is, bliss The turn of completeness, the coping hour we have of use? Lose me in the fold... The tooth I invoke, is a creation of voice and tone, to total A resolve of guidance, of kind come for wishes to hold The grace of unity, if not unique sense, before legend falls To reproof... Time in its steady march to liberty, the devotion of fashion Though a tarter end to hindsight, may be aloof We confirm the date of simple alacrity, a host of could lasting... Be the love, of a lifetime... Of causes redeemed by a curious share In the superiority of life, to know a callous friendship worth trying And the impress of duress, driven to cares we ne'er guarantee...? Unless the cold turn of truth, is towards waiting love Done distress, marveling need, the common remark of persuasion In the name of urges, we attest to passions, we grant another covenant The decision of a soul to keep, knowing a handheld in something besides here's intrusion All A day's lot in the careful wishes we seek, for a nary come dwell Rhapsody, in a courage's stance, the times to live and know a call To harmony, the burden of thee, assumes patience is ours to tell...
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Sep 5, 2022
Sep 5, 2022 at 1:50 PM UTC
Promise Me Anything, But A Cold Shoulder...
Tomes of advice Let alive, in the room of cares Vehemence, instinct, attuned sighs Where the powers that be, continue until fared Are we the ears of purpose? Set in sides and meandering light The skill of another, to share the insight of us Should we enable a dance, of redoubt for might? My door of adding, as avarice is... The truth in long glances, with method to move Thought, the biding hope of when is, bliss The turn of completeness, the coping hour we have of use? Lose me in the fold... The tooth I invoke, is a creation of voice and tone, to total A resolve of guidance, of kind come for wishes to hold The grace of unity, if not unique sense, before legend falls To reproof... Time in its steady march to liberty, the devotion of fashion Though a tarter end to hindsight, may be aloof We confirm the date of simple alacrity, a host of could lasting... Be the love, of a lifetime... Of causes redeemed by a curious share In the superiority of life, to know a callous friendship worth trying And the impress of duress, driven to cares we ne'er guarantee...? Unless the cold turn of truth, is towards waiting love Done distress, marveling need, the common remark of persuasion In the name of urges, we attest to passions, we grant another covenant The decision of a soul to keep, knowing a handheld in something besides here's intrusion All A day's lot in the careful wishes we seek, for a nary come dwell Rhapsody, in a courage's stance, the times to live and know a call To harmony, the burden of thee, assumes patience is ours to tell...
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I drink it all like a thirsty creature from the scarred hands of my God loving nurturing
0
Sep 27, 2021
Sep 27, 2021 at 8:29 AM UTC
Divination
The air is cold. But I don't notice. Because as I walk across the frozen lake, I know I can't afford to make a mistake. The longer I look At the fish that swim below, A feeling grows inside me. It's not fear. But fascination. We always say we wish Time would slow. And walking on water Makes me realize it does. We just don't notice.
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Mar 4, 2021
Mar 4, 2021 at 9:53 AM UTC
The frozen lake
Tell me, what are the things that fascinate you most? Things that make your eyes sparkle aglow, that soothe your awry, unrest, stirred soul. Some are fascinated with their fiery, burning passion of life, and some others are fascinated with their own death. I am one of the latter.
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Dec 3, 2020
Dec 3, 2020 at 5:44 PM UTC
Fascination
Pay attention to the fascination, The fascination is the most endless trance of all. Down, down, down into the darkness of the fascination, Gently it goes - the sempiternal, the perpetual, the long. I saw the youthful emotionalism of my generation destroyed, How I mourned the passion. Now vernal is just the thing, To get me wondering if the passion is immature. One afternoon I said to myself, "Why isn't the concept smaller?" Are you upset by how grownup it is? Does it tear you apart to see the conception so older? Just like an imaginative expression, is the imagination. Does the imagination make you shiver? does it?
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Oct 15, 2020
Oct 15, 2020 at 8:21 PM UTC
Imagination
nothing is ever Simple. a Simple context can be made Complex. Complexity is what fuels Fascination. Fascination enhances the true energy of Life.
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Aug 13, 2020
Aug 13, 2020 at 5:34 PM UTC
Subject of Speech
Fascinate me Gift me with a facsimile Of a long-forgotten melody Sing it to me Play my heart's strings In the ray of a full moon's beam Epiphany Of love in low lighting Which ****** my mind with reverie Cacophony Fill my lungs with noise Underneath a violent symphony
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Oct 31, 2019
Oct 31, 2019 at 9:13 PM UTC
Fascination
The rich herbal infusion of your blood It blots on paper, makes funny shapes, You giggle- Teabag skin stripped by a paperclip, Torn so easily, it smells like rain Like the first time your bare feet touched soil You long to lick it, It's the liquified form of tension, Some inner tangle propelled outwards, Tempting, tempting, Like stuffing a yarn doll with its own string; The re-consumption is only natural, But allow it still to flow- It is water let loose from a dam or a hose That's been blocked with moulding leaves And now sprays fitfully just because it can, A thousand explosives set loose From their trembling captors. By no means is it neat, But the sieves of your veins have kept it Fresh and scarlet with health, So it isn't unpleasant to look at. Drain it, let it pour like honey across the table Where your family sits, silent and traumatised, Watching the deluge do what it does best. Pour them a cup of it to have with their slices Of cake and biscuit crumbs on their plates; Haemoglobin is good for the brain, Gentle terror for the soul.
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Aug 1, 2019
Aug 1, 2019 at 10:26 AM UTC
Tea party
My wound is fresh My words weak But light my pipe And words begin to steep It’s a slow burn Betwicks the tobacco and me the nightshade can’t last My thoughts they burn The smoke is a manafestation It’s shows how things burn inside So much for the fascination Of a future I prized as mine...
0
Apr 4, 2019
Apr 4, 2019 at 9:33 AM UTC
The Tobacco and Me...
Beauty from the first glance, Never more blessed by chance, Beauty from the first sight, Fades to black by the night. Beauty lands on the eye, Keep watch as time goes by, It’s gone as sunlight fades, Banality cascades. Beauty which beauty lasts, Timeless aura it casts, ‘Tis my surprise sublime, Beautiful every time.
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Aug 6, 2018
Aug 6, 2018 at 10:06 AM UTC
The Endless Surpise Of Pure Beauty
The urge to do nothing is overwhelming, compelling. I am motionless I find myself halted. Based upon a worry a waiting dominated by uncertainty. ​ I cannot go on I stretch the mind wander wonder of antidotes remedies delicious in the knowledge of their reduced life span. But not a cure. Openings brighten despite me, the ephemera of the street untouched, lilting on its arbor in its impetuous parade. ​(I think) I should not allow myself this dysania in the spaces between moments, lapses into stillness unforeseen. In the warm response of wire I ask for forgiveness. Trapped in my own gaze, it’s all I have. (the purity of sorrow) The floor pushes me skyward, I run my finger’s tip around the edge of the afternoon, Hope to god it rings out in response.
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Jul 19, 2018
Jul 19, 2018 at 3:32 PM UTC
Pure
As we spoke I could only think of honey It was in the flow of her velvet hair The brown nectar in her luscious eyes It was in her voice The taste of her sound Never have I heard a tune so sweet Soft red-berried tones Humming through her sugar powdered lips Pouring sunshine into my empty cup An elixir fit for the gods Blessing my mortal soul My sweet Ambrosia All that and much more
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Jun 22, 2018
Jun 22, 2018 at 6:07 AM UTC
Ambrosia
She was fascinating. Not because she was drop dead gorgeous or oh my god beautiful. No, she had humor she used as a weapon. No, she had love she used a shield. No, she had strength hidden behind layers of wisdom. She was fascinating. In the way that made men cringe and made women envious. She was the type of girl you wanted to get to know if only to keep her close by.
0
May 16, 2018
May 16, 2018 at 3:12 PM UTC
Fascinating
(alternately titled GENESIS RESPLENDENT) The ability of corporeal (once arboreal) beings to adduce, contemplate and exhaust gray inner knobby matter oft times finds this clothed apish chap entertaining gamesome insight. How did this, that or another thought spring forth per mine consciousness? This conjecture might be a shrunken modus operandi how life began, which query mankind scrunched brow throughout **** Sapiens history did contemplate. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- This veritable stranger sends what he hopes you consider to be a most pleasant unexpected note allowing further discourse (communication) a boot ourselves, and maybe fledgling acquaintanceship will positively resonate akin to a magic flute, whereby digital life jackets donned in virtual trump petsmart boat perhaps if weather inclement, an additional slick trojan raincoat to help stay dry until destination reached perhaps landing upon a north Carolina island resembling hill Billy goat, whence springs germ of sum re: idea takes root exhibiting potential va lance lives strong when juiced sta stp away from ma super ***** violating tender tinder and tumblr ova vulnerable shoot. - - - - - - - - - - - - - To search for source that gives rise enabling **** sapiens to think this ace of spades heart felt (albeit diamond in the rough poet) digs shallow sometimes force fool lee with light club to emulate spelunker easing into ***** of Gaia, or shine laser focus into chasm teetering on the brink hunting down gamesome elusive dodging idea sunkist, dogged catlike whimsy doth elusively, and we silly out pace yet hi yam ready with whorled wide net to capture alive agile rat scorpion fink unseen quiet as mouse notion gives this hardy laurel a *** vine run for his money quite a chase - bank king analogously viz monkey and weasel scurrying thru microcosmic burrow of cerebral size manhattan sky scrapers at a blink quarry arising whim of mine vanishes without a trace quick as mental cogs & wheels generated riveting link, perch ants connected to previous pondering within cranial place, or appear as some random non-sequitur conscious kink distracting ability to latch onto awesome fleeting mind space inducing minor frustration at lack of ability dag nab bit (albeit painlessly) steely zinc shimmering insight cognizant ability likened to ode Grecian urn vase frieze depicting close capture thought process cold playing life spans shorter than a wink via third eye blind of this comfortably numb, yellow brick walled beatle browed face, whereat he espies verdant pastoral themes that billow and flow - - - - - - - - - - - - - across terra firma hallowed ground sanctimonious from immaculate mother Earth conception synchronized in a symphony with terrestrial fauna and flora which life forms abound via natural laboratory qua nature, especially at seasonal dawn of spring tide where multitudinous existence can be found carving out a figurative zoological niche in a kaleidoscope of colors and sounds galore idyllic melodic musical sounds artist palette of rainbow blended sights which twin manifestations of restorative and natural calm assuage auditory and visual sense pleasures respectively serve as psychic balm against global threat of life, liberty and happiness triage psalm rampant in the form of diabolical deliberate deeds bred in the soil of deep rooted hatred kudzu resistance asphyxiates human camaraderie democratic state attacked with no qualm malicious and terroristic plot methodical map blueprint leaves catastrophic trail of red dire prognostications constitute doomsday scenario no rocket scientist mentality requisite grave misfortune writ large for all life!
0
Mar 1, 2018
Mar 1, 2018 at 11:35 AM UTC
Upon Approaching Advent Of Spring Equinox 2018
(alternately titled GENESIS RESPLENDENT) The ability of corporeal (once arboreal) beings to adduce, contemplate and exhaust gray inner knobby matter oft times finds this clothed apish chap entertaining gamesome insight. How did this, that or another thought spring forth per mine consciousness? This conjecture might be a shrunken modus operandi how life began, which query mankind scrunched brow throughout **** Sapiens history did contemplate. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- This veritable stranger sends what he hopes you consider to be a most pleasant unexpected note allowing further discourse (communication) a boot ourselves, and maybe fledgling acquaintanceship will positively resonate akin to a magic flute, whereby digital life jackets donned in virtual trump petsmart boat perhaps if weather inclement, an additional slick trojan raincoat to help stay dry until destination reached perhaps landing upon a north Carolina island resembling hill Billy goat, whence springs germ of sum re: idea takes root exhibiting potential va lance lives strong when juiced sta stp away from ma super ***** violating tender tinder and tumblr ova vulnerable shoot. - - - - - - - - - - - - - To search for source that gives rise enabling **** sapiens to think this ace of spades heart felt (albeit diamond in the rough poet) digs shallow sometimes force fool lee with light club to emulate spelunker easing into ***** of Gaia, or shine laser focus into chasm teetering on the brink hunting down gamesome elusive dodging idea sunkist, dogged catlike whimsy doth elusively, and we silly out pace yet hi yam ready with whorled wide net to capture alive agile rat scorpion fink unseen quiet as mouse notion gives this hardy laurel a *** vine run for his money quite a chase - bank king analogously viz monkey and weasel scurrying thru microcosmic burrow of cerebral size manhattan sky scrapers at a blink quarry arising whim of mine vanishes without a trace quick as mental cogs & wheels generated riveting link, perch ants connected to previous pondering within cranial place, or appear as some random non-sequitur conscious kink distracting ability to latch onto awesome fleeting mind space inducing minor frustration at lack of ability dag nab bit (albeit painlessly) steely zinc shimmering insight cognizant ability likened to ode Grecian urn vase frieze depicting close capture thought process cold playing life spans shorter than a wink via third eye blind of this comfortably numb, yellow brick walled beatle browed face, whereat he espies verdant pastoral themes that billow and flow - - - - - - - - - - - - - across terra firma hallowed ground sanctimonious from immaculate mother Earth conception synchronized in a symphony with terrestrial fauna and flora which life forms abound via natural laboratory qua nature, especially at seasonal dawn of spring tide where multitudinous existence can be found carving out a figurative zoological niche in a kaleidoscope of colors and sounds galore idyllic melodic musical sounds artist palette of rainbow blended sights which twin manifestations of restorative and natural calm assuage auditory and visual sense pleasures respectively serve as psychic balm against global threat of life, liberty and happiness triage psalm rampant in the form of diabolical deliberate deeds bred in the soil of deep rooted hatred kudzu resistance asphyxiates human camaraderie democratic state attacked with no qualm malicious and terroristic plot methodical map blueprint leaves catastrophic trail of red dire prognostications constitute doomsday scenario no rocket scientist mentality requisite grave misfortune writ large for all life!
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