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#loveistheanswer
I need the warmth of your skin to fix the cold of my bones.
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Nov 9, 2020
Nov 9, 2020 at 12:30 AM UTC
The remedy
Because... I'm sitting somewhere by a fire Listening to the Old Gods Tell tales about how the Earth, She devours men.
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Jan 4, 2018
Jan 4, 2018 at 2:29 PM UTC
804°
He laughs at my ignorance, Me, at his arrogance... If I'm really no match, Why not grant me a fairer chance?
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Oct 25, 2017
Oct 25, 2017 at 7:12 AM UTC
Real Men Need Not Lie
I solved the riddle, Alice dear, This weren't your dream at all... Your dreams are host to nobler men, No princes here; Just frogs. They flap their wet and gleaming lips, Professing works of love... Now dripping wet from all their spit, And chapped from all their rubs, You still don't feel a bit more safe, And just a bit less loved.
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Jul 31, 2017
Jul 31, 2017 at 9:57 PM UTC
Love is A Verb
The man on the corner stopped her short, Signaling through the window at a pile of hats, To a crisply woven straw fedora and satin bowtie, He winked the remark, "I think that hat there, it was made for you, mam." And then off he went  down the crowded walk. Perplexed I was as I carried on for nearly three blocks 'Fore I got the nerve to turn on back, The enthusiasm for what he said had quite convinced me, Never mind the fact that I'd never been much into hats. The sloping brim curved above my brow with true perfection And the satin folds gave the bright black bow such a shiny light, The maker's name was a Peter Grimm, near a small white rabbit, And it brought to mind how the month before she had felt her clocks blow, And her soul fell a-flying down that rabbit's hole, When the baby left, and the world turned darkly unfamiliar, And she had no pill that could turn her back to big again. Just her tiny, tumbling figurine of selfhood, Behind an ever shifting mirrored wall of dreaming Lost among the lines of the angry mind of the old Red King, But the hat felt safe, and perhaps she'd even felt a wee bit taller, Inches feel like miles when dimensions move beyond the realms of normal time. Plus the ornamental headwear offered comfort, And put a snap back in her step for just a beat... With a silent thanks for the unnamed haberdashery advisor, She and her hat with the big black sash, And the rabbit stitched in, Bobbed along the seams of Seattle streets With a joyful heart and a big broad grin.
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Jul 22, 2017
Jul 22, 2017 at 11:42 AM UTC
The Anonymous Stylist
The man on the corner stopped her short, Signaling through the window at a pile of hats, To a crisply woven straw fedora and satin bowtie, He winked the remark, "I think that hat there, it was made for you, mam." And then off he went  down the crowded walk. Perplexed I was as I carried on for nearly three blocks 'Fore I got the nerve to turn on back, The enthusiasm for what he said had quite convinced me, Never mind the fact that I'd never been much into hats. The sloping brim curved above my brow with true perfection And the satin folds gave the bright black bow such a shiny light, The maker's name was a Peter Grimm, near a small white rabbit, And it brought to mind how the month before she had felt her clocks blow, And her soul fell a-flying down that rabbit's hole, When the baby left, and the world turned darkly unfamiliar, And she had no pill that could turn her back to big again. Just her tiny, tumbling figurine of selfhood, Behind an ever shifting mirrored wall of dreaming Lost among the lines of the angry mind of the old Red King, But the hat felt safe, and perhaps she'd even felt a wee bit taller, Inches feel like miles when dimensions move beyond the realms of normal time. Plus the ornamental headwear offered comfort, And put a snap back in her step for just a beat... With a silent thanks for the unnamed haberdashery advisor, She and her hat with the big black sash, And the rabbit stitched in, Bobbed along the seams of Seattle streets With a joyful heart and a big broad grin.
Continue reading...
28
Please grant me freedom From their demented minds, Their cruel words, Their bitter, hateful hearts... Or, simply, give me death.
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Jul 21, 2017
Jul 21, 2017 at 11:32 PM UTC
On Bended Knee
Her soul bares the scars of the lightning bolt's burn, Is it innocence lost, or innocence returned?
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Jul 14, 2017
Jul 14, 2017 at 2:43 PM UTC
Confused Little Hearts
His fingers play strings On my body so tight As he drew back and forth On these chords of my light Unspoken melodies and haunting compositions A song rife with grief, every note well positioned Peter Grimm writes a symphony of disembodied souls Warms his bones by a fire that he's fanned from the coals
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Jul 14, 2017
Jul 14, 2017 at 9:06 AM UTC
Peter Grimm
I followed a black jack rabbit Through the wormholes of his brain Taking pictures of his nightmares As I tasted all his pain His stories, meant to scare me, Meant to fill my heart with dread Only caused me to look deeper At the scars between our heads He never really meant to show me All the things that I did see For the tough skin he'd been growing Now, transparent as the sea I watched the brackish waters Tumble through his web of veins So alive and full of creatures Waving wildly in his mane He spoke of sweet devotions and a love as pure as gold Yet I couldn't shake the feeling that my heart weren't his to hold His words could not bring comfort if they didn't ring out true Like a script resounds of duty, This love weren't mine, That's all I knew
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Jul 8, 2017
Jul 8, 2017 at 6:14 AM UTC
No Conspiracy Theory Concerning Love
The greatest power I have ever truly witnessed is kindness
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Jul 2, 2017
Jul 2, 2017 at 9:47 PM UTC
The True Strength of Men (10W)
I do not fear death, So I can't fear you.
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Jul 2, 2017
Jul 2, 2017 at 9:37 PM UTC
Logic 10W
Why'd you only call me when it was half mast?
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Jun 28, 2017
Jun 28, 2017 at 3:35 AM UTC
Untitled 2 (10W)
Man's highest ideals; These are the Angelic parts of Us.
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Jun 28, 2017
Jun 28, 2017 at 2:21 AM UTC
Untiled 10W
That you are not loved yet is because a wave breaks at just the right time and not a minute sooner...
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Jun 27, 2017
Jun 27, 2017 at 9:09 PM UTC
21 Word Poem
Getting the dust of a Lily on the tip of your nose Or contemplating the delicate way that the Ivy climbs this wooden post Is a sure way to renew and re-inspire the fragile soul
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Jun 27, 2017
Jun 27, 2017 at 1:24 PM UTC
Nature's Medicine
I have outgrown many things. I have outgrown relatives who gladly offer criticism but not support. I have outgrown my need to meet family's unrealistic expectations of me. I have outgrown girls who wear masks and secretly rejoice at my mistakes. I have outgrown shrinking myself for those who are intimidated by my intelligence and outspoken nature both. I have outgrown friends who cannot celebrate my accomplishments. I have outgrown people who conveniently disappear whenever life gets a little dark. I have outgrown those who take pleasure in gossiping and spreading negativity. I have outgrown dull,meaningless conversations that feel forced. I have outgrown those who don't take a stand against ignorance and injustice. I have outgrown trying to please everyone. I have outgrown society constantly telling me I'm not beautiful,smart, or worthy enough to achieve anything. I have outgrown my tendency to fill my mind with self doubt and insecurity decades ago. I have outgrown trying to find reasons not to love my humble self. I have outgrown anything and anyone that does not enrich the essence of my soul. I have outgrown many things and I've never felt freer. ~Poem by Chanda Kaushik
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Apr 14, 2017
Apr 14, 2017 at 5:27 AM UTC
Untitled by Chanda Kaushik
So here we are, My falling Star, Upon this road of life... Two souls, so lost, Whose paths did cross Whilst roaming through the night. With child's eyes We recognized Our parent's silent grief; Their wasted years Soon disappeared, As time's a ruthless theif. Sole heirs to pain, We've shared this shame, And felt the fears, which sought us. Confusions grew, As no one knew, Just how much they'd never taught us. Self hatred bred, And blindly led, Our rebel-minded causes. Such sweet escapes Those drugs create, When sorrow finally pauses. Hearts turned to stone, We've wept alone, Convinced the World forgot us. With every chance Each circumstance Did have, they surely fought us. Yet here we are My falling Star, Two broken hearted lovers, Whom fate did yearn To grow, to learn... And so we're bound forever.
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Apr 12, 2017
Apr 12, 2017 at 9:03 PM UTC
Falling With You
I want you to know one thing. You know how this is: if I look at the crystal moon, at the red branch of the slow autumn at my window, if I touch near the fire the impalpable ash or the wrinkled body of the log, everything carries me to you, as if everything that exists, aromas, light, metals, were little boats that sail toward those isles of yours that wait for me. Well, now, if little by little you stop loving me I shall stop loving you little by little. If suddenly you forget me do not look for me, for I shall already have forgotten you. If you think it long and mad, the wind of banners that passes through my life, and you decide to leave me at the shore of the heart where I have roots, remember that on that day, at that hour, I shall lift my arms and my roots will set off to seek another land. But if each day, each hour, you feel that you are destined for me with implacable sweetness, if each day a flower climbs up to your lips to seek me, ah my love, ah my own, in me all that fire is repeated, in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten, my love feeds on your love, beloved, and as long as you live it will be in your arms without leaving mine.
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Apr 9, 2017
Apr 9, 2017 at 9:52 PM UTC
If You Forget Me by Pablo Neruda
Love a man whose strength of character precedes him on his journey in life. Love a man who’s not afraid to stumble and fall, only to pick himself up and face the wind once more. Love a man who’s made mistakes and whose heart is etched with scars of long lost loves, lingering embraces and kisses that tore at the soul. Love a man who listens to his inner guides, and not knowing exactly where they lead, picks up his sword and leads his horse into the dark of a forest from where he may never return. Because he has faith in his dreams, even those that leave him broken and in need of a fresh start. Because he is the wizard of his own destiny, weaving the strands of the unknown into a tapestry that he can cover himself with when times are hard. Because he is a warrior and he is hungry for a life that is lived without regrets. Love a man whose smile is honest and whose eyes fell you to your knees. Love a man who will turn away from safety, trusting that his passions are a danger he cannot live without. Love a man whose hands know how to explore your secrets and his body awakens every sin you’ve ever craved—he won’t judge you, he’s a worshiper of the Feminine. Love a man whose tears are hot, who bathes in the ashes of his mistakes. Love him when his eyes are shadowed, when he walks the beach in search of his muse, when he stands naked in a soul consuming fire; because he’ll come out stronger than before. He’s promised you that and he keeps his word. A man who understands the journey, will not apologize for where his mind leads him. He will seek wisdom from any place that it hides. This man is a visionary, and he seeks a woman whose life is her own. He will own you if you ask it, but only when you allow him into your darkest requests. He will advise you if you need it, but give you space to follow your own truth. He will understand that your journey is a battlefield only you can lay yourself down on. But ask him for protection and you’ll hear his sword rasp out of its shield. Love a man who dreams of the future but never wastes today. Love a man whose intensity keeps the wolves at bay. Leave your door wide open, he will come to you when you need him – stranger, seeker, sinner; thinker. Men on their journey push past the mists of the unknown and bare themselves to loss or gain, whichever will find him first, and trusting in the process, awaken stronger, more alive, gifting the world with their insights and inventions. Men on their journey will enjoy your mind, will yearn to learn from you—will find their pleasure in discovering your truth. Men on their journey are wild and sensual. Because their soul knows no boundaries, their thoughts are limitless, their voices can either soothe or excite. Love a man who shakes loose the questions of the ages, who throws himself in to the sea, seeking salty respite from the ravages of his quests, who listens to the call of mermaids, and believes that the spirit world holds more wisdom than all the books in the world. Love a man who’ll be on his journey until his dying day. You’ll know him by his integrity. He’ll never tell you that he’s finished being the adventurer. You'll know him by his vulnerable heart.
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Mar 26, 2017
Mar 26, 2017 at 12:58 PM UTC
Love a Man Who is on His Journey - by Monika Carless
Love a man whose strength of character precedes him on his journey in life. Love a man who’s not afraid to stumble and fall, only to pick himself up and face the wind once more. Love a man who’s made mistakes and whose heart is etched with scars of long lost loves, lingering embraces and kisses that tore at the soul. Love a man who listens to his inner guides, and not knowing exactly where they lead, picks up his sword and leads his horse into the dark of a forest from where he may never return. Because he has faith in his dreams, even those that leave him broken and in need of a fresh start. Because he is the wizard of his own destiny, weaving the strands of the unknown into a tapestry that he can cover himself with when times are hard. Because he is a warrior and he is hungry for a life that is lived without regrets. Love a man whose smile is honest and whose eyes fell you to your knees. Love a man who will turn away from safety, trusting that his passions are a danger he cannot live without. Love a man whose hands know how to explore your secrets and his body awakens every sin you’ve ever craved—he won’t judge you, he’s a worshiper of the Feminine. Love a man whose tears are hot, who bathes in the ashes of his mistakes. Love him when his eyes are shadowed, when he walks the beach in search of his muse, when he stands naked in a soul consuming fire; because he’ll come out stronger than before. He’s promised you that and he keeps his word. A man who understands the journey, will not apologize for where his mind leads him. He will seek wisdom from any place that it hides. This man is a visionary, and he seeks a woman whose life is her own. He will own you if you ask it, but only when you allow him into your darkest requests. He will advise you if you need it, but give you space to follow your own truth. He will understand that your journey is a battlefield only you can lay yourself down on. But ask him for protection and you’ll hear his sword rasp out of its shield. Love a man who dreams of the future but never wastes today. Love a man whose intensity keeps the wolves at bay. Leave your door wide open, he will come to you when you need him – stranger, seeker, sinner; thinker. Men on their journey push past the mists of the unknown and bare themselves to loss or gain, whichever will find him first, and trusting in the process, awaken stronger, more alive, gifting the world with their insights and inventions. Men on their journey will enjoy your mind, will yearn to learn from you—will find their pleasure in discovering your truth. Men on their journey are wild and sensual. Because their soul knows no boundaries, their thoughts are limitless, their voices can either soothe or excite. Love a man who shakes loose the questions of the ages, who throws himself in to the sea, seeking salty respite from the ravages of his quests, who listens to the call of mermaids, and believes that the spirit world holds more wisdom than all the books in the world. Love a man who’ll be on his journey until his dying day. You’ll know him by his integrity. He’ll never tell you that he’s finished being the adventurer. You'll know him by his vulnerable heart.
Continue reading...
24
Birth of heart, lost in time Like old light, soul of water Firey sea , wave of mind Cold white sky, hollow trees Softened dreams fall and rise Fear is lost, fallen power Beneath bones hope lives wild Quiet heat, sense of self Gentle death, God, and night Spirit lines, silent grasses Spring of stars, moonlit smile House of steel, looms of darkness Angels dance, brightly veiled Body song, world forgotten Ancient feet, talking trails.
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Feb 2, 2017
Feb 2, 2017 at 8:57 AM UTC
Body Songs
Mother! Father! Moon and Star! How I wonder what you are.... By Fire's light and Earth's own pull, You've stirred the waters of my soul. I've felt you closer than my skin. A dance with Death; Life's one true kin. But don't despair, My Winged One; I'd never ask you fly alone.
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Nov 19, 2016
Nov 19, 2016 at 5:24 AM UTC
Call to Arms