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#marcobuschini
Strike like a dove with boxing gloves, And mop up the trepidation That spills from your mouth. Punch into the heart of fear And leap from the cloud that cascades Into thunderous rapture. Dance into the bossom of peace And let freedom be your compass; That guides you toward enlightenment. The plumage of your soul is ruffled By the ecstasy of the marching wind, And the comprehensive gallop of hope that stomps in the psyche, flows fancifully from the hip. strike like a dove with boxing gloves, Climb into your spirit and let her rip. To dance, to feel, to love.
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Sep 29, 2025
Sep 29, 2025 at 7:45 PM UTC
Like a Dove with Boxing Gloves
An undercurrent of coolness Murmurs in the distance, As the night shadows Over a language of a thousand tongues. A bite of indifference bitterly breaks the silence. The transformation looms. A darting melody shoots across the sky, As the pure light of my mind Seeks a dance of flavour. A Labour of gratitude Lays abandoned on the riverbank. I seek no mercy, Just the stillness of the night. And when will the golden sky appear? The ignition of the fire inside permeates the soul, As the blend of existence Bursts into life. The shape of romance plays into my hands, As the inner mirror reflects innocence. The autumnal ether switches sides, As the world appropriates Timeflow. The syllables and parables crack the taste of forgiveness, And when we finally deliver remembrance, life will be ours.
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Jun 10, 2021
Jun 10, 2021 at 11:44 PM UTC
The Golden Sky
Thou art the sunlight That trickles off the Rippled water. Thou art the sweetness Of beauty. Thou art the spirit of The trees, The whistling sound of The wind, And I catch thee Like I would catch a fish. With a scream of Delightful madness. Only to let thee go again. Back into the sea, Back into thy divine Peace. Only I wait, For you to catch my bait, In some other dream.
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Mar 9, 2021
Mar 9, 2021 at 7:14 PM UTC
Thou Art
The end of the cigarette Burns off spaghetti strings, While one eye is on the soup. My shoes, which by the way Are on my feet, Swizzle and spin As the thermometer bursts From the heat of the kitchen. The stars can be seen Through the roof, As the freezer lets off steam, And I reach into my pocket And pull out a rock, Which I crush with my bare hands.
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Feb 26, 2021
Feb 26, 2021 at 2:59 PM UTC
A Kettle Full of Heat
We do solemnly swear; That forever more, We shall live in a world All on our own. A world that consists of Pure pleasure, And unequivocal harmony. That will last forever, And a Sunday. And so from this day forth, We shall exude the richness Of the heavens, In ways that are applicable to life In the most profound way imaginable. Which will inevitably, Echo forever more In the laughing sounds Of matrimony. Blessed our velvet tongues, For we speak the weight of gold, And sing like angels, Whispering enchanting dreams, And dancing on clouds.
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Jul 12, 2020
Jul 12, 2020 at 1:12 PM UTC
The Weight of Gold
Mrs. Suspicious, Was doing the dishes, And was worried About the spider in the bath. So she called on her husband, Who sorts out problems By the dozen, and yelled: ‘Get the monster on the march!' So he got out his shotgun, And thought this will be much fun, And he made his way slowly As he laughed. But the spider was gone, As he searched on and on, But had no such luck as time passed. 'So did you find the spider?' 'No dear he slipped by us' The spider made hiding an art. Mrs. Suspicious baked a cake, And with delight they both ate, Of which the spider was a part.
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May 20, 2019
May 20, 2019 at 5:51 PM UTC
Mrs. Suspicious
Into the masquerade Of her unyielding dream, I see her flash into ambiguity. A vestige of fluorescent Transcendental light particles Rising into the zenith, Through a liquescent portal, Into the reminiscence Of her fanciful bloom. I meander through the enigmatic Labyrinth of her Never-ending rumination. Through the postern door, Into a frolic of festivity; A jamboree of her Effervescent frivolity. A sudden vision Of our exuberant youth, The romantic tryst by the fountain. Our souls interlaced, weaving in the wind As we gaze at her fragrant, Celestial moon. The ambience of her earthly silence Conjures the emergence of a stairway Into her intuitive star. Our ephemeral dalliance, In an evaporating mirage Of unrelenting fortitude, Of what was once forgotten. I take my enamoured bow, With ardent strings of burning light And fire fervently to seek Her euphonious heart.
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May 20, 2019
May 20, 2019 at 4:43 PM UTC
Ardent Strings of Burning Light
Bending the benevolence Into a lucid sky of white, An indulgence of an Evocatively colourful odyssey. My dearest mother Of the muse, A whispering sea Of beckoning delicacy. Divulging enriching Secrets of the tides. Majestic sands of salty Caramel delight, Unravelling the enigmatic Solitude of time. Grains of meandering Contemplation; Emancipating the mind From the burden Of the distortive rhythm, And into the truest dream Of night, Where the spirit chimes solely In awakened starlight.
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Jan 13, 2019
Jan 13, 2019 at 7:28 PM UTC
Secrets of the Tides
Into the wonderment of your autumnal mind. Where the skin of your grief sheds its leaves. Is the song of your sea bound into colourful light? The Shepherd breaches the flock of your dreams, And the pastures breathe a sigh of relief, As your tears of morning dew Glisten the parched landscape. Does your bouquet of ***** Lay wistfully in the wilderness? The skies of blue that reside in your eyes Serenades the coming of the tide, Harvesting the fruit of our labour of love. Is this a wind of smile that turns into a voyage of valiancy? A flock of thoughts liberated with a cry of exclamation As your fears of autumn blue Are exiled into the rapacious wind.
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Dec 17, 2016
Dec 17, 2016 at 5:40 PM UTC
Wistful in the Wilderness
Lie within chaos, and create comfort In visions of endless love. Riding slowly on the crest of a morning fling, and flutter, The body stutters Like a street dancer. Shine in different directions And end the yearning For a love of creativity By stripping off And darting Into a sea of uncertainty, with a sense of Unimaginable lust for what keeps you Ticking like a sturdy clock. Find the rhymes that combine With what lies inside the mind, To stumble upon the future pleasure, That you unearth with delight, As you wonder. Inspiration is born out of desire. Fuel to fire the birth of creation. The mind quakes for a taste Of the cake, that is blessed with greatness.
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Dec 29, 2016
Dec 29, 2016 at 9:23 PM UTC
Feeling Uncertain of the Curtains
The pulsating, pearl moon Harbours the last remnants of romance, Scintillating, in the valourous sky, As I ceremoniously call upon the gods To bring her back to me. I longingly strip, craving the vivacity of her caress. Irresistible, I would yield to the perpetual Power of her touch. Immersed in the shadowy depths, Rippling serenities of thought. I glimpse at her reflective soul, Shimmering upon the ravenous river, Emanating from the stars In all their graceful radiance. Her heart illuminates The benevolent evening. The breath of inevitability Stings my skin, as I dress, Firing my arrows of impatience Disconsolately, into the shivering azure, Hoping for a way To penetrate her very being.
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Nov 2, 2016
Nov 2, 2016 at 10:32 PM UTC
Breath of Inevitability