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#he
eating dogs and cats raining cats and dogs both ridiculous when taken literally (but someone would have you believe it)
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May 22
May 22, 2026 at 9:23 AM UTC
******* his thumb
I’m going to express joy all day, not ruminate. today is a new day, and I’m a heartbeat away, from removing the gray, to keep the blues at bay. Blowing apart at the seams, writing out new dreams, life is not as it seems. as we walk through new streams, the day ends under moonbeams, with new schemes. As a team, we are building wind-beams, over headstreams, in our Air Stream; full of steam— and skinned knees.
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May 14
May 14, 2026 at 7:33 AM UTC
Joy to the Dream World
We decided to move radically off-grid. Becoming; new lives in flight, across 20 acres. Old free time is now new tree time. With hope, we saw our way to the cabin. Pausing, a new silence in the north emerges. Aging faces inhabiting new spaces. A forever jump into big grooves, and Mother Nature’s swimming pools… I’m alive today. And that will have to be enough. I look up. A rough and tough face stained with a new spring dew. With him beside me, and ahead, we forage. New pioneers or green thumbs attached to big dreams. In old soffits live secured baby red squirrels, and lofty new ideas. At the window- staring back; our own reflections, and baby black-capped chickadees. We step out into an old woods, anew, me. We.
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May 12
May 12, 2026 at 11:43 AM UTC
Becoming; new lives in flight, across 20 acres.
it’s ugly, tight love dressed as a gold purity, that you assume only he can wear.
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Apr 10
Apr 10, 2026 at 12:22 AM UTC
window shopping
He is myself. I see him in me. Two mirrors facing each other. Is this why we don’t see eye to eye? He has brown eyes. I see my reflection in them. Pools of sepia depths that I always drown in. He makes me lose control. Just drives recklessly across my heart. I take control again and turn the other way. He never calls. Or says hello. He just lingers around.. And… He knows I’ll keep waiting.
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Mar 26
Mar 26, 2026 at 2:22 AM UTC
HE
Sunday Service ends At 12pm Then the real work begins As we spill again Back into the streets haggard exhausted refreshed and replete With woes anew and friends to-be across Quiet Avenues, down shaded alleys Flowing out against the stream of sheep The sleepy flock returning to the fold to shelter in silence amongst those akin to them in deed and ethos, in desperate need of a story to keep them Hopeful and meek Predisposed of problematic predilections, specifically those of intuition and indiscretion preposterously posed as sins Of the flesh and fuel for fires Of hell and regret. Fearfully they weep into folded hands and ask forgiveness for being beings built upon wants and needs Apologizing to the empty space they find above them every time they search the skies for signs of life To help them sleep Then again, to the body immaculate Interred inside their hearts and heads for Abandoning the plan, Hopelessly And as they rise a song erupts Resonant in joyful harmony A eulogy of sunny Sunday-Fundays past Here, on this dark Monday night, we gather together to remember the light and the warmth it bestowed upon all of those to whom its loving glow befell. We celebrate it joyfully In this our moment of reprieve faithfully awaiting its resurrection to peak across the horizon , Signaling the return of the goodness, We remember. For this we gather here together to stave the darkness off a moment longer than we can Alone Awake Await The day Is breaching And dawn arrives to singing trees I’ve, several times, chosen to find myself, in quiet repose, Penitent, seeking The holyness I never came to Truly know. It’s a Shame. Really It’s a beautiful thing Yet escaping me. Close enough to see But quicker than I can catch Wisping air just out of reach Tempting me to touch And darting in retreat. Ghostly as it goes Unfettered by us living things Spectral faith does not a living god create In temples Intempled in transparent scenes aglow from without within A sacred space deified in name And nature Composited from such enigmatic dreams As those that drive a man to drink And those that teach the deaf to sing Dreams that die without delight Dreams the scream and cry and bring To life the lost experiences left to fester Undelivered, in the slip stream Among the dashed potential Rippled by inertia And shimmering Into oblivion As it dissipates upon the surface of The river styx And laps against the shore before you Mere inches from your feet. Where are we Hear I am! Is this me? or is this something else; Unconnected to that poor disheveled corpse bedeviled by its missing link Bedazzled in glittering emanations of reflected life-force self-scattering Left slumped among the litter Gathered for collection In decaying heaps. That poor thing surely can’t be me Because, here, I am. And there, I ceased to be. And for better or worse, it’s better for me To be here and NOT there, that doesn’t look like anywhere I would think to find someone like me.
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Mar 24
Mar 24, 2026 at 3:07 AM UTC
Sunday Service Ends
Sunday Service ends At 12pm Then the real work begins As we spill again Back into the streets haggard exhausted refreshed and replete With woes anew and friends to-be across Quiet Avenues, down shaded alleys Flowing out against the stream of sheep The sleepy flock returning to the fold to shelter in silence amongst those akin to them in deed and ethos, in desperate need of a story to keep them Hopeful and meek Predisposed of problematic predilections, specifically those of intuition and indiscretion preposterously posed as sins Of the flesh and fuel for fires Of hell and regret. Fearfully they weep into folded hands and ask forgiveness for being beings built upon wants and needs Apologizing to the empty space they find above them every time they search the skies for signs of life To help them sleep Then again, to the body immaculate Interred inside their hearts and heads for Abandoning the plan, Hopelessly And as they rise a song erupts Resonant in joyful harmony A eulogy of sunny Sunday-Fundays past Here, on this dark Monday night, we gather together to remember the light and the warmth it bestowed upon all of those to whom its loving glow befell. We celebrate it joyfully In this our moment of reprieve faithfully awaiting its resurrection to peak across the horizon , Signaling the return of the goodness, We remember. For this we gather here together to stave the darkness off a moment longer than we can Alone Awake Await The day Is breaching And dawn arrives to singing trees I’ve, several times, chosen to find myself, in quiet repose, Penitent, seeking The holyness I never came to Truly know. It’s a Shame. Really It’s a beautiful thing Yet escaping me. Close enough to see But quicker than I can catch Wisping air just out of reach Tempting me to touch And darting in retreat. Ghostly as it goes Unfettered by us living things Spectral faith does not a living god create In temples Intempled in transparent scenes aglow from without within A sacred space deified in name And nature Composited from such enigmatic dreams As those that drive a man to drink And those that teach the deaf to sing Dreams that die without delight Dreams the scream and cry and bring To life the lost experiences left to fester Undelivered, in the slip stream Among the dashed potential Rippled by inertia And shimmering Into oblivion As it dissipates upon the surface of The river styx And laps against the shore before you Mere inches from your feet. Where are we Hear I am! Is this me? or is this something else; Unconnected to that poor disheveled corpse bedeviled by its missing link Bedazzled in glittering emanations of reflected life-force self-scattering Left slumped among the litter Gathered for collection In decaying heaps. That poor thing surely can’t be me Because, here, I am. And there, I ceased to be. And for better or worse, it’s better for me To be here and NOT there, that doesn’t look like anywhere I would think to find someone like me.
Continue reading...
101
I’m addicted to you, not like smoke that steals the air, not like habits people fear, but in a quiet way that fills me with peace. I’m addicted to you, not like a drink you can’t put down, but like the comfort you bring every time you’re around. I’m addicted to you, not like the rush that fades too soon, but like a steady heartbeat that keeps my soul in tune. I’m addicted to you, the way a body needs its core, not for thrill, not for show, but because without you I wouldn’t be whole anymore.
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Mar 16
Mar 16, 2026 at 5:34 AM UTC
Cold Addiction
How do you prove love? Not talking to anyone else — that’s loyalty. Speaking well of them even behind their back — that’s humanity. Helping them with everything — that’s kindness. Giving them gifts — that’s generosity. Taking care of them — that’s respect. Thinking of them all the time — that’s obsession. Dreaming about them — that’s desire. So then how do I prove love? How do I prove to you that I love you? When your heart beats for them — that’s love. When breathing feels harder without them — that’s love. But love can’t truly be proved. Because what I feel lives inside me, and the only way to understand it is if the same spark lives in you. I can’t show you everything I feel. But I can tell you this — I love you.
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Mar 14
Mar 14, 2026 at 6:31 AM UTC
Proof of My Love?
This is what I meant when I said I fell in love with the world’s greatest poet. Your poems aren’t just words, they’re masterpieces that deserve the whole world’s notice. You create miracles with nothing but ink and thought, turning feelings into beauty most people could never have caught. The way you describe the smallest things is strange, unexpected, new, yet somehow every line you write feels perfectly true. Every poem you’ve written has been a lesson for me, every word you’ve spoken has touched somewhere deep in me. Even the greatest names in history couldn’t write the way you do it. Because you’re not just a poet… you’re a poet no one else could ever be.
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Mar 13
Mar 13, 2026 at 2:08 PM UTC
Worlds Greatest Poet
لو قلتُ إني عبدٌ على بابك… هل ستصدقين؟ولو رأيتِني راكعًا أتوسّل إليك… هل ستؤمنين؟ هل ستقرئين في عينيّ كيف صار قلبي أسيرًا لك؟
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Mar 13
Mar 13, 2026 at 10:22 AM UTC
Arabic piece
*****, A letter for each finger. my love for you is like the hand I live by, five quiet fingers reaching for the sky. Remove just one, and even the smallest task feels slow, simple things become harder than they should go. That’s how my world would be without you near, a hand reaching forward, but never holding what’s dear. You are the strength in my grip, the warmth in my touch, the calm in my heart when life feels too much. With you, everything seems to fit, every moment feels right and complete. Without you, my hand is still there… but something important is missing from it, A hand that’s no use..
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Mar 13
Mar 13, 2026 at 10:18 AM UTC
Like a finger for each letter
Do you know the excitement I feel when I see your name? When someone mentions you, it’s never the same. When I do something that reminds me of you, My heart starts racing before I even know what to do. Even the thought of you passing my mind, Leaves every calm I had behind. You want to see what excitement can do? My heart forgets how to beat normal when I think of you. It runs so fast, it feels insane, Just hearing your name does that again.
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Mar 11
Mar 11, 2026 at 3:29 PM UTC
Excitement
If you spend the day in a fish market, You’ll smell like fish even if you never touched it. If you spend the day in a perfume shop, You’ll carry its scent even if you never bought it. Hearts are the same in their own way, They become what they’re near each day. So I want mine to stay with you, For a lifetime, steady and true. So your purity, your joy, your light Slowly becomes my heart’s own sight. And when my happiness starts to show, It will reflect the love you grow.
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Mar 10
Mar 10, 2026 at 5:53 AM UTC
The Scent of the Heart
I need you.... Not the way a child needs a toy, Or a dog might need a bone. But I need you Like the ocean needs salt in its water, Like a heart needs blood to flow. I need you To make the quiet garden in me bloom, To turn bare soil into life. I need you... Not for a moment, not by chance, But like breath that keeps me alive.
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Mar 8
Mar 8, 2026 at 4:23 PM UTC
I need you
You say you can prove it… yet it’s all talk, “Keep the mystery alive,” you say as we walk. But tell me honestly, what mystery’s there, When my heart for you is laid fully bare? Just admit it, I love you deep and hard, Not some soft line, not a passing card. You can insist that you love me more, But listen to what my heartbeat’s for. No one has felt what I feel inside, This restless rhythm I cannot hide. Every second the thought of you Makes my heart beat strong and true. And when I’m talking to you, it races again, Faster and louder than it’s ever been. I may seem calm, like nothing’s new, But inside I’m still amazed by you. The same excitement as the very first day, Every single time you come my way. That’s my proof, simple and true, I love you more than you realise I do.
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Mar 8
Mar 8, 2026 at 4:12 PM UTC
My Truth of Your Mystery
In every world the stars may spin, In every place we might begin, You say you love me more than me, A sweet and lovely rivalry. But love’s not measured, kept in score, It’s not a race of “mine or more.” For every beat my heart sends through, Is simply meant to love you. So if you say you love me more, that’s fine, I’ll smile and still say you are mine. Not more, not less, just something true... My whole world still begins with you.
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Mar 8
Mar 8, 2026 at 2:09 PM UTC
Competition of Love
In full reality, in every space, In all dimensions time can trace, In every life, in every view, My heart still finds its way to you. I love you most, the way you breathe, The way you talk so naturally. It’s not just words I choose to show, It’s something deeper that I know.
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Mar 8
Mar 8, 2026 at 10:14 AM UTC
I love you the most
Haven't met for a while, Still can't think the spark has gone, Is it only me or, She also feels it on her own. Tickling my mind and *** Can't really answer this at all, For that I need to ask, But why it has to me at every fall. Can't she do it as well, If not as a lover than a friend, It really makes me wonder, Were we a thing or just empty hall. Feel bad as a room filled with holes, Cheese does taste good but have many holes.
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Mar 3
Mar 3, 2026 at 11:04 AM UTC
Cheese hole
“I will it to be,” / Says He: / The days our lives / Shall resonate mellifluous musicality, / The euphonic poetry will wax everlastingly, / And the magnum opera, the creativity, the artistry, / Shall effloresce, burgeon incessantly; / Moreover, the days when finally / Love shall reign from sea to shining sea. / “I will it to be,” / Says He. / (—Se’ lah) 01-16-2026
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Jan 16
Jan 16, 2026 at 2:28 AM UTC
I Will It To Be
To my beautiful wife The light of my dark The fighting spirit On lonely nights I believe in you Passionately You made me a man I make you a Queen Like they all say The world is yours They all say it but Can't prove it but When I say it God descends from heaven Grants you freedom to be faithful to me WITHOUT MARIAH CAREY noone is safe Years erased I see you baby I told you Daddy's home They said the same Except I told you 1st Thank you for making me a dad You Found love I rather feel you then *** you I just want to be present So you can accept the past And know If they F around They will find out On record Historically Biblically Literally Lyrically Perfect from birth God made you To make me see Achieve retrieve That heart body and soul Just know Ill throw hands Throw down Drop bombs Destroy earth To protect you And what we share Birthed and created My lady Tis the season Many greetings I got a feeling for next year Im super happy already Dang our babies are grown Growing old with you Is all a King could ask for Time will tell Truth be told Commense the reckoning Soon they will understand Soon they will see Merry f n Christmas Bia ill eat the whole ***** Sit on me suffocating me to death Love me Just me F me Ill die slow in pain Just chance For Xmas I get you
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Dec 24, 2025
Dec 24, 2025 at 8:29 PM UTC
"Mariah Christmas" By: King Zack
fill up my head with delusions i hope that i am not useless he will leave, i let him do it can’t grip any longer i hope that i can get through it same wounds as my father i trust in his disapproval there is something wrong, something stuck i don’t deserve love, i am not enough i can name it because i hear it echoing through my blood why do i feel so inadequate ? inadmissible, tragic why do i carry such sadness? **** myself out of habit
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Dec 12, 2025
Dec 12, 2025 at 11:23 AM UTC
Habit
you are the first person or i am the second person or am i a person and you are a person or we are first or we are second and they are third it's easy to confuse paper for a mirror when it says your yours you it might come off as a recording if it says my mine i maybe you and i though can be third to they is that okay? i'd say hey yeah hey you bet'cha
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Nov 19, 2025
Nov 19, 2025 at 10:17 AM UTC
3rd grd grammar
Larry the lesbian, he had a plan To dress as a woman to become “the man” His, her dress was short, but held a surprise Something women want, but most despise He, she couldn’t keep it down, at the bar one night it came out All the women screamed, two queers had to shout You can’t do that; you’re a woman not a man Larry said bend over fool, I’ll show you yes, I can They declined, left quick, fast and in a hurry Larry never shaved, he was big, hard and furry He, she had two hot women, one on each knee Which one of you can take all of me That’s how Larry became the man among men He, she gave it to they, them over and over again 11/06/25
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Nov 8, 2025
Nov 8, 2025 at 7:48 AM UTC
Larry the Lesbian had a Plan
Boy: Gazing at the stars "If I were to curve our name in to the sky, would you let them stay there for eternity." Girl: Softly "Promise me you'll never ask for loyalty; you become loyal." *"Don't search for perfect person, become perfect." By Vedanta Anagha
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Nov 3, 2025
Nov 3, 2025 at 10:09 PM UTC
Loyalty