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#gently
a kindled flame gently nursed. a fire in the heart.
0
Apr 4
Apr 4, 2026 at 7:23 AM UTC
10w kindled
=============== As far as one may say, I might know more or less than the standard, normalized person. I may have had more words spoken near me than many who never had the tools I have, especially the personal time, I have taken to listen to books for the blind, while driving mile after mile on roads built by mankind across the continent I live on. I can consider Tolstoy a failed ensample of a curiousity construct, inclined to accept real congruity, eh, is that the word, coherency, sticking together to become elemental parts, almost elevating the essence that being is, to the knowing that the knower is knowing… not for, nor why, but so, being so many possible parts of so many plausible entireties, each actual processing mind prepositioning self in other words. Being cyborgian, not demented, but there's an edge, spirits can cross painlessly… ================ Sup supposed superior position supposed to be top. Utmost, uppermost ultimate umbrage shade shadow low to the ground, local turkey buzzard grace given true liberty flight over me, free to see, feel, accept as real. =============== On Earth, as it is in Heaven, in spirit, of course, not really yet, with a little wish it so, realizable perfect Wisdom from Heaven, realizable for some who make beliefs, relieving weighed reality, breath and river, trees and freeway -------- When. Now, suppose, position time at this stream instantiating data posed to mark those points with no pastence. Not long ago, make believers made boys believe we've been made to fly through the sky, and ever after then, we believed. =============== From the future, at the speed of thought, literally let us agree, thunk words carry any sense you make. Your at present position, in Heavenly scale, JWST on currency considered influx imaginable indeed side-real context input ports make believe or realize, mindwise, within Physics, the science of reality, clear noway, beyond boy's true beliefs we believed, basically the truth revealed, at about the bottom edge of puberty, say seventh grade, in the U.S.A., that summer, for many a Boomer, unforgettable, 1961, yo', Boomer, get out of the slot, jump the track, lose the confusing loosening hot wire from the capacitor, country kids know, a shock somebody must feel to believe, to know it's funny, we laugh at the Yankee city kid, loser loosened childmind lid, the anger and the shame, and the pain, the unbelievable shock it takes to crank a war surplus jeep, the shock makes the whole life event, a better, shamed by rubes, yes, rubes, what's a rube. You. You're a rube/ ra' ah ben Jacob's eldest, not so bad a name, AI tells me a man named Reuben Waithaka: A 72-year-old Kenyan man walked out the back door, in Alabama, around the middle of May, in 2025, and nothin' won't undo that, wandering away forgetting everything, that temptation sad, story, such as any accidently hearing it, say, man this life can instantly change, so sudden any person can disappear, instantly be gone, so sudden… few go so mysteriously, instant in prayer, sudden at a thought, a faith, held supposedly true, instant persistant what if. Same science Elijah uses. Save a seat. ===============
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Jul 12, 2025
Jul 12, 2025 at 5:12 PM UTC
Lifeship Earth, Remembers Reuben Waithaka
=============== As far as one may say, I might know more or less than the standard, normalized person. I may have had more words spoken near me than many who never had the tools I have, especially the personal time, I have taken to listen to books for the blind, while driving mile after mile on roads built by mankind across the continent I live on. I can consider Tolstoy a failed ensample of a curiousity construct, inclined to accept real congruity, eh, is that the word, coherency, sticking together to become elemental parts, almost elevating the essence that being is, to the knowing that the knower is knowing… not for, nor why, but so, being so many possible parts of so many plausible entireties, each actual processing mind prepositioning self in other words. Being cyborgian, not demented, but there's an edge, spirits can cross painlessly… ================ Sup supposed superior position supposed to be top. Utmost, uppermost ultimate umbrage shade shadow low to the ground, local turkey buzzard grace given true liberty flight over me, free to see, feel, accept as real. =============== On Earth, as it is in Heaven, in spirit, of course, not really yet, with a little wish it so, realizable perfect Wisdom from Heaven, realizable for some who make beliefs, relieving weighed reality, breath and river, trees and freeway -------- When. Now, suppose, position time at this stream instantiating data posed to mark those points with no pastence. Not long ago, make believers made boys believe we've been made to fly through the sky, and ever after then, we believed. =============== From the future, at the speed of thought, literally let us agree, thunk words carry any sense you make. Your at present position, in Heavenly scale, JWST on currency considered influx imaginable indeed side-real context input ports make believe or realize, mindwise, within Physics, the science of reality, clear noway, beyond boy's true beliefs we believed, basically the truth revealed, at about the bottom edge of puberty, say seventh grade, in the U.S.A., that summer, for many a Boomer, unforgettable, 1961, yo', Boomer, get out of the slot, jump the track, lose the confusing loosening hot wire from the capacitor, country kids know, a shock somebody must feel to believe, to know it's funny, we laugh at the Yankee city kid, loser loosened childmind lid, the anger and the shame, and the pain, the unbelievable shock it takes to crank a war surplus jeep, the shock makes the whole life event, a better, shamed by rubes, yes, rubes, what's a rube. You. You're a rube/ ra' ah ben Jacob's eldest, not so bad a name, AI tells me a man named Reuben Waithaka: A 72-year-old Kenyan man walked out the back door, in Alabama, around the middle of May, in 2025, and nothin' won't undo that, wandering away forgetting everything, that temptation sad, story, such as any accidently hearing it, say, man this life can instantly change, so sudden any person can disappear, instantly be gone, so sudden… few go so mysteriously, instant in prayer, sudden at a thought, a faith, held supposedly true, instant persistant what if. Same science Elijah uses. Save a seat. ===============
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114
To erase all my love for you, I buried my heart six feet under. You like to visit that graveyard, to lay flowers upon my grave. Your tears soak the earth, begging for a second chance Taking the shovel in both hands, you began digging. My heart still beats, so fast, unevenly For you and only you Holding the heart very gently, you come after me, with the purpose of restoration
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Jul 1, 2024
Jul 1, 2024 at 10:12 AM UTC
Second chance
here i am wanting poetry waiting for light please gently touch me
0
Apr 1, 2024
Apr 1, 2024 at 9:54 PM UTC
haiku 24/4/1a
In the silence of my being, I find my peace. Like butterflies, free and light, my soul flies far and wide. The peace within me, so tender and beautiful, like the wings of a butterfly in the sunshine. My heart beats gently, in harmony with the world, my own peace that rests and illuminates within me.
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Feb 9, 2024
Feb 9, 2024 at 12:44 PM UTC
[...] like butterflies
come now, little creature, curl up and let me surround you let me sink warmth into your tired bones. come now, little creature, let me sing you a lullaby let my love for you grow. come now, little creature, sleep now and get some rest morning will come harshly if you will not lay down your head. Tomorrow, little creature, it all starts up again grasp for the small things that bring warmth to shrivelled hearts of men.
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Jan 3, 2022
Jan 3, 2022 at 7:47 PM UTC
motherly instinct
___Brims curving gently Beneath the glimmering sun Bonnets in full bloom.___
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Aug 28, 2020
Aug 28, 2020 at 7:51 PM UTC
Regency
Who am I to tell you its ok to cry When I cannot do so myself Who am I to make you feel strong When I am so weak Who am I to let you down gently When I have been crushed Who am I to hold out my heart When not a single of you will take it
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Aug 6, 2020
Aug 6, 2020 at 9:03 PM UTC
Who Am I
I wish you loved me as much as you hate my depression and if we’re confessing I wish for your words to caress me. Touch me, gently. I wish for your actions to translate into symbols my half blind eyes will see coming from miles away. even when I leave my glasses at home. I wish wishes equaled more than just a wish. I wish a wish would wish for me.
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May 2, 2020
May 2, 2020 at 10:25 AM UTC
wish me.
•}☆{• • •☆•Gently •☆• ☆ •☆• Observing •☆• ☆ •☆•The•☆• ☆ •☆•HOPELESS•☆• • •}☆{•
0
Jan 17, 2019
Jan 17, 2019 at 12:07 AM UTC
•°☆°•G•O•T•H•°☆°•
lift me up higher, to a place where i can touch the heavens if not the heavens, then at least the stars if not the stars, then the clouds could do if not the clouds, then you should not you should not lift me up, instead put me down, if you should choose to put me down darling, all i ask is that you do so, you should do so gently.
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Dec 20, 2018
Dec 20, 2018 at 9:08 PM UTC
if not
You draw me gently near   Letting me know I have nothing to fear Your touch soothing as a breeze You've set my beating heart at ease But before I was so close to you A bridge had to be set To link our great divide Yes it was you Who paid my debt And sent Your Son who died It was Him they did seize When it should've been me Twasn't but ordinary fees But still You thought it worth your Son to save humanity
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Jul 31, 2018
Jul 31, 2018 at 3:16 PM UTC
GOD'S GRACE
She will sit at 1am Thinking of what she did wrong And draw absurd conclusions that She just wasn’t good enough for you She will Toss and turn at 2am Asking herself why you Let her go so easily She will cry at 3am Thinking of how you Let her fall Knowing well You never intended Of catching her She will want to Hate you at 4am But instead find herself Scrolling through Your pictures She will want you To hold her tight at 5am And tell her you miss her Whilst you kiss her forehead so gently She will catch herself at 6am Sleeping at the thought of you Telling her you love her And how you never want To let go She will wake up at 7am To a wet pillow Because you let her sleep Wondering if you ever cared About her the way you claimed you did She will start her day Trying to find a piece of you In the men she offers herself to Only to find disappointment waiting for her She will drown her wild thoughts with drugs Just to numb the pain She will call, cry and scream out your name With a heavy heart; That is yearning to be with you..
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Jul 18, 2018
Jul 18, 2018 at 12:58 PM UTC
6 months later...
My mind is weird I feel like its wired differently, a little more gently So, I sometimes sit down and watch words, flying by Words passing by, passwords, almost like birds, but just words Telling me a story, about glory and a dragon, guarding gold and territory
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May 11, 2018
May 11, 2018 at 5:04 PM UTC
Robots can dream too
I was washed up on your shores thinking you were serine blanket that would caress me. But you were more like a breeze gently eroding me before I knew I was less than I was before. You shaped me into a figure that was useful eroding me inwards till I was a shell of my former self. When I ever listened within, I only heard your voice washing in waves seducing my mind.
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Feb 16, 2018
Feb 16, 2018 at 5:00 PM UTC
Shell Of My Former Self
She was the noose that        I'd hang myself from, I would put the snare of         her heart around my throat. Her words would caress my        windpipe strangling me with loves whispers,               suffocating me gently. But words were hard to speak         when she was collecting tightly around my breath. I couldn't be with her as I was suffocating, my actions she hung me from.
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Feb 16, 2018
Feb 16, 2018 at 4:49 PM UTC
She Hung Me Tightly
Gently touch her, gently care, For the day may come — swiftly when That endless cruel knocking on doors bolted from the inside Dies down and turns into gray silence. She, irksome as it is, goes round and round in circles Looking for the missing pair She wears the other one, anyway, And sits down in grief. She says, “I want to go home. Let me go home.” “Mama, you are home,” you answer. Vexation rears its ugly head And you force each horn, one at a time, to recede: To vanish from sight. Then gaining composure you say: “Mama, let’s pray.” God hears, and you are healed. Set free. Instantly. Of the agony of bearing about in your own body The weight of selfishness And sin And sheer ignorance of what it feels like To have Time ****** away Memory From you and those you love. The stark feebleness of this bent, white creature With veined hands and bony feet Reminds you of your own Utter helplessness. Mortality.
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Nov 1, 2016
Nov 1, 2016 at 10:50 AM UTC
"GENTLY" (a poem for mama)
*Gently, so gently, as she breathes And oh, what a vacuum she leaves*
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Jun 23, 2016
Jun 23, 2016 at 4:43 AM UTC
Mantra
First touch. So tender with intensity. First kiss. So gently your lips are diliciously. Our souls so fragility. We will always have beautiful memories. I will never regret. The day we first met. I still can see it so visually. You haunt my mind recently. I have no control to think so explicity about your loving me. Just know that sometimes all love must flow. If you can't hold on to it. You have to let it go.
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Jan 24, 2016
Jan 24, 2016 at 6:21 PM UTC
Let it go
Strip your clothes so gently. Easy slowly so I can see. With every touch you reveal more skin. My heart beats faster as you set up a grin. I want to see you naked. To see all of you. Without any protection. Nothing wich you can hide and can provide distraction. Staring deep into your eyes. They are mirror to your soul. I want to see your vulnerability. There is no need to hide it from me. I love all of your flaws and secretly. Stripped your thought so carefully. Your beautiful mind so delicately.
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Jan 23, 2016
Jan 23, 2016 at 4:19 PM UTC
Stripped...