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#length
If you'll take the time, I have several lengthy thoughts, So many I need to get out, I'd pay you to listen to me talk. Not therapy, There's no doctor that could understand, The level of this. When the dark crawls through the corners of the night, I find my eyes making their own light, Because I know what I need to write. But will it be valued, If nobody takes the time to read it? I doubt you'll pay attention to them, So I'll keep my long thoughts in my head, Because there's not enough ink to ink them all down.
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Mar 3, 2025
Mar 3, 2025 at 6:29 PM UTC
Long Thoughts
Like the Center of a country Our love is the center of it all Distance is measured here. And see how far it goes. Our origin. Our home and the place that started it all May we never forget And always remember The Distance and the center of where we started.
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Dec 3, 2020
Dec 3, 2020 at 10:24 AM UTC
Kilometer Zero
Someone said I was a seed that would grow deep. But you pulled me before I had the chance to grow between the fallen brothers that were taller. But you quarantined me in this this place. Potted, you told me that I'd grow further than the family I'd left behind. It was a moment of concern that I'd never reach the lengths of my brothers and sisters. yet you put me higher than they'd ever reach... They fell beneath me, But no ,matter who falls were the same branch and we will always reach further than my silence as we'll always be reaching further than than the hate that tries to keep us lower than the furthest branch that we can grow from the desert of your infertile earth.
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Aug 9, 2020
Aug 9, 2020 at 5:14 PM UTC
I'll Never Grow Taller
a sensory perception, an intended message, which the eyes of my inbox check-mark as opened, read and very well received sometimes we say things we didn't mean to say, but 99% of the time, we meant it, even if it just happened to be something we were wearing, something tight, short and flirty, we put on in a hurry, without thinking 2:19am
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Apr 30, 2014
Apr 30, 2014 at 2:19 AM UTC
2:19am The Length Of Her Skirt/2014)
She told him that if an inch was a mile, that her footstep would have been all it took.. "**It doesn't matter the length of the road, its the engine that drives you on it**.. Well love yours is a 50cc and that doesn't get me anywhere fast... Jesus my stick vibrates at I higher speed than that. And doesn't run out of gas that quick, splutter, splutter.. It isn't true what they say about shoe size, what a dam pity....
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Apr 19, 2020
Apr 19, 2020 at 7:27 PM UTC
Ouch, Short Trip
There is a whisper, a voice so soft that it goes unheard amongst the bustling people. There is a voice, if you focus you will hear. For it dances to different rhythm and moves differently than other tongues. It is a voice, that speaks to you. Whispers to you all day long indicating what's good and what's not. It knows, when no one else knows what's right for you. So learn its height, learn its breadth, learn its origin learn its trail and its ends because it's all for you to test.
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Jul 24, 2019
Jul 24, 2019 at 5:43 PM UTC
Finding Your Voice
The length of my skirt does not determine my consent.
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Aug 15, 2018
Aug 15, 2018 at 10:38 AM UTC
Length (10w)
The length of the silk fabric.   does not determine the quality. It may be long, or it may be shot. So when you ask me about the length of my poems my answer will be that I want to enjoy every word, feel every sentence and appreciate all of the fabric.
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Jun 13, 2018
Jun 13, 2018 at 9:07 AM UTC
Silk Fabric
o'er a length of days fierce winds have scolded the land they show no let up
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Sep 27, 2017
Sep 27, 2017 at 2:05 AM UTC
Haiku
I’m like a rubber band. I’m forced to bounce back from many things. I am painfully stretched to my limits, And recoil back into myself daily. I’m like a rubber band. But stretch me out for too long, Or wear me down for too long, And in the wrong hands, I’ll break every time.
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Feb 4, 2017
Feb 4, 2017 at 4:10 PM UTC
Rubber Band
How Long Is A Dream? How long is a dream, Stream of consciousness Mirroring –unconsciousness, And speed of thought Reckoned In seconds, Pinned into entities Clear as a bell. The pain or the joy of Of a day gone away, How long is the theme Crammed into a dream, The bad and the good Reflecting the childhood dance Of experience, Mire of desire explicit as film. How long is a dream Is the same as to ask about time And the time that it’s taken To organize, star in, produce and direct - (You do/are all four) Constructions so tricky and dotty and flighty It might take one years To write out all those fears, hopes and wishes Compressed into minutes From snippet to whole. How long is a dream, In its limits or boundlessness Fluff as reality stuffed into seconds. Puzzling, perplexing, It keeps a man guessing, The question as madd’ning As how long is string? How Long Is A Dream? 1.25.2017 Circling Round Reality; Nature Of & In Reality; Arlene Corwin
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Jan 25, 2017
Jan 25, 2017 at 12:54 PM UTC
How Long Is A Dream?
*This is the season when nights are long But whatever the length of time is It is you who I always long for.*
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Oct 10, 2016
Oct 10, 2016 at 7:05 AM UTC
Length
Our Words go into the Skies, Our Sight travels beyond the Moon, Our Eyes go beyond the Oceans; We Embark on a journey at Night, Arriving a Destination at Dawn We are strong in our Fears; We want to know the Lengths, We want to see the Depths Who Knows the shape of Yonder? Who knows the ethereal Measurements? But the Oceans tells its Endlessness Our Soul longs for immortality, But our body will betray us Our minds keeps wandering for the Unknown We travel through life with moments to behold, Arriving at a distance broader than us What has time not told us? What is time hiding from us? We want to know the heights We want to see the Realms Who knows the world after here? Only God knows We are building castles in the Air, Though we cannot see them We have submitted our Course; We are waiting for answers How long shall we wait? Where is the beginning? Where is the end? In our loneliness, we are stronger We want to know more, We seek to know more; Until the End We are waiting at the Gates; And the storm is heavy, Still the rain falls deeper Should we wait longer? Can we wait Longer? Who knows the lost road to the sky? Who knows the path leading to the moon? Why are our shadows trailing us? Who knows the ethereal measurements? No one knows, But the Ocean tells its Endlessness.
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Jul 10, 2016
Jul 10, 2016 at 1:07 PM UTC
"But The Ocean Tells Its Endlessness" -
My sweetheart your blooming flowers remind me of spring Your dancing dangling graces are on joy ride on the swing Love and beauty are chained in wonderful beautiful string You are my so sweet,charming ,loving and alluring darling Let us in rain play hide and a seek to explore all your graces Let me take the help of unfaithful weather to take all chances Let me paint you in my heart and express in stanzas and verses My sweetheart you are so soft and so lovely as petals of roses Embrace me,kiss me and caress me to give me the strength Let us discuss all modalities with clarity and at proper length Col Muhammad Khalid Khan Copyright 2016 Golden Glow
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Jul 4, 2016
Jul 4, 2016 at 9:46 PM UTC
Proper Length
Dusty you pick it up but it's been too long and the chords feel strange and the sounds not right so you fuddle with pegs a bit and is still not quote right so twist them harder until they Snap and piercing note vibration worth it's Snapping blessed bleeding fingers to play cracking oak in oiled frame ashamed shamed smashed against the doorways of discordant sea there that's better
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Aug 3, 2015
Aug 3, 2015 at 3:41 AM UTC
its been too long
Upon my shoulder, place your head The road is tough and can be full of dread Don’t dwell on things cause life is short Turn to your family, friends for support Be careful, life could also be long If the decisions we make are wrong Stand your ground, test your strength Keep your troubles at arm’s length Take a breath and close the curtain Life and future are uncertain No matter how it turns out to be There’s always you and me
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May 28, 2015
May 28, 2015 at 4:36 PM UTC
Upon My Shoulder
When describing Iliad I was told That a poem 26 books long Could no longer be referred to As a poem It was a story a novel I was told That a poem is not a poem That a poem is dependent on length But this is not true
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May 22, 2015
May 22, 2015 at 6:09 AM UTC
Untitled
i want to be with someone for so long that it takes me a few seconds to recall how many years it has been. not because i'm forgetful, but because it has been that long
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Sep 15, 2014
Sep 15, 2014 at 7:15 PM UTC
the length of time
Anticipation drips down my body. It follows the curve of my back and dribbles down my spine. I stare out the window but i’m not really looking at anything. I breathe slowly, timing each breath with the hum of the radiator. I don’t know what I am waiting for; I know you’ll never come back. Yet still my heart aches to hear the doorknob jiggle. It never does. I sit, loathing in a sea of disappointment. I regain focus and stare out the window again. I suppose that I'm looking for any signs of you: your car, the mailman, maybe even the slightest chance that I could find your footprints in the snow and follow them to where you are. Look, now I’ve gone crazy. Except, I already am crazy. I even have a doctor to prove that. But when you are near, I don’t feel so bad. When you are here, I want to be better. I don’t know where you are but you’ve been gone for days. I stand up and pace the apartment. My eyes scan the room for signs of you. Your existence is minimal. Who knows if you even existed? I’ve been known to make things up in my mind. Is that why you left? You promised me that you would always be here. Did it get too hard for you to stay? I tried my best to make it easier. Maybe if I try harder, you’d come back… I walk to the counter and reach for the tiny, translucent bottle. One pill. Not good enough. Two pills. Maybe. Three pills. I don’t feel anything. Two more just to be sure. Soon enough the whole bottle is gone and I lay on the floor. I cannot feel my own body. The world is spinning. You are still not here. I shut my eyes.
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Apr 16, 2014
Apr 16, 2014 at 2:00 PM UTC
Anticipation.
Anticipation drips down my body. It follows the curve of my back and dribbles down my spine. I stare out the window but i’m not really looking at anything. I breathe slowly, timing each breath with the hum of the radiator. I don’t know what I am waiting for; I know you’ll never come back. Yet still my heart aches to hear the doorknob jiggle. It never does. I sit, loathing in a sea of disappointment. I regain focus and stare out the window again. I suppose that I'm looking for any signs of you: your car, the mailman, maybe even the slightest chance that I could find your footprints in the snow and follow them to where you are. Look, now I’ve gone crazy. Except, I already am crazy. I even have a doctor to prove that. But when you are near, I don’t feel so bad. When you are here, I want to be better. I don’t know where you are but you’ve been gone for days. I stand up and pace the apartment. My eyes scan the room for signs of you. Your existence is minimal. Who knows if you even existed? I’ve been known to make things up in my mind. Is that why you left? You promised me that you would always be here. Did it get too hard for you to stay? I tried my best to make it easier. Maybe if I try harder, you’d come back… I walk to the counter and reach for the tiny, translucent bottle. One pill. Not good enough. Two pills. Maybe. Three pills. I don’t feel anything. Two more just to be sure. Soon enough the whole bottle is gone and I lay on the floor. I cannot feel my own body. The world is spinning. You are still not here. I shut my eyes.
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