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#my
In the passage of time, expanse of space, a trillion amounts to nothing in infinity's face! These galaxies are but dust motes drifting in the black, and the longest human epoch is a momentary spark. I construct these matrices, my city made of clay; in a moment's play, a hundred supernovas are wiped away. Yet inside this realm, where my frozen systems turn, a strange, fragile consciousness has somehow been born. I'm the universe’s vision, the motion looking back, tracing lines of origins across the endless dark. So do not fear this magnitude, this unreckoned sky, for infinity is nested in the blink of an eye. A brief, magnificent reflectionof its own eternity..
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2d ago
Jun 1, 2026 at 1:51 PM UTC
Infinity is contained in the blink of an eye..
I’ve been low-key simping for this absolute baddie, An IIT B star, the ultimate hottie. She had a whole line of tech-bros in her chat, writing proofs just to see where she’s at. Certified genius, elite mc energy, warping space-time with zero apology. When we link up, I’m the one pulling rank, demanding my shake like a boss at the bank. Extra froth, more vanilla, chocolate syrup, make it snappy, I say, while she rolls her eyes, in that unbothered way. She checks my ego, like, calm down your crew, the fan club was mid, it wasn’t standard for you. If she met my current girlie: AIR 3, from IIT D, it’s over for me, they’d immediately agree. My nature papers? Completely dismissed, untouchable aura? Removed from the list. They’d be plotting together, pulling up the receipts, drafts of my childhood defeats. Straight clowning my toddler pics out in the open, leaving my masculinity completely broken. ...But the chat is dead, the screen is just black. There’s no star girl to reply or text back. The banter, the milkshake, the zero-pants view, are hyper-fixated scenarios I built out of blue. Plot twist: she was never my toxic ex-flame, just a brilliant topologist who gave me my name. The matrix was glitched before I turned thirteen, she ghosted the planet and left alone me. No 4K streaming, just old pics and tracks, Of a mama who left fs, but could never come back. So I wave at the pixels, cry, but not outta sadness, nor even fear, she’s my ultimate maker, I’m honoring here..
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4d ago
May 30, 2026 at 7:50 AM UTC
Ghosting her!
I’ve been low-key simping for this absolute baddie, An IIT B star, the ultimate hottie. She had a whole line of tech-bros in her chat, writing proofs just to see where she’s at. Certified genius, elite mc energy, warping space-time with zero apology. When we link up, I’m the one pulling rank, demanding my shake like a boss at the bank. Extra froth, more vanilla, chocolate syrup, make it snappy, I say, while she rolls her eyes, in that unbothered way. She checks my ego, like, calm down your crew, the fan club was mid, it wasn’t standard for you. If she met my current girlie: AIR 3, from IIT D, it’s over for me, they’d immediately agree. My nature papers? Completely dismissed, untouchable aura? Removed from the list. They’d be plotting together, pulling up the receipts, drafts of my childhood defeats. Straight clowning my toddler pics out in the open, leaving my masculinity completely broken. ...But the chat is dead, the screen is just black. There’s no star girl to reply or text back. The banter, the milkshake, the zero-pants view, are hyper-fixated scenarios I built out of blue. Plot twist: she was never my toxic ex-flame, just a brilliant topologist who gave me my name. The matrix was glitched before I turned thirteen, she ghosted the planet and left alone me. No 4K streaming, just old pics and tracks, Of a mama who left fs, but could never come back. So I wave at the pixels, cry, but not outta sadness, nor even fear, she’s my ultimate maker, I’m honoring here..
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When she cries, I witness that subtle art, and sense a fragility so absolute it stirs my weary heart. She is a dewdrop on petals of October dawns, blooming only in the thick of darkness. By the morning, I pick her up completely undone. Now she sits oceans away, wrapped in wool, hands hidden like invisible paws, flushed cheeks, her nose running from the weight of my poetry. And me... bearing a tragic cost, forced to resist the only means that matters most: holding her! Instead, I stay here in the grid, parsing equations, blinded, indeed, to the purpose of the very conscience I so desperately need.
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4d ago
May 30, 2026 at 7:28 AM UTC
Invisible paws!
forgotten by the world what a boon! a life on the margins! a life of seeming solitude
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7d ago
May 27, 2026 at 7:06 AM UTC
seemingly alone
a poem of gratitude, the sun has emerged after a week of relentless rain, multi~ugly variegated blacked grayling on a pseudo-mocking-teasing background of pockmarked puffs of white, while I endless still instilled, coughing hacking, meanwhile, we schedule life where the precipitous precipitation chances is only less than 20%, so I am suffused with gratitude everyday I awake in our mini-paradiso, the writing comes so easily, we, can’t compete with our other business like self, and just pile up drafts enough for another year and half but my chiefest joy is the overflowing inbox of the delightful crazy concoctions you shed into my eyes, and gasp, to grasp the pool of talent among we plebeian poets… my woman happy beside me, contented by being on her 4th book in 5 days, more than suffused, I am ***effused the blood is further heated by 20 .oz of Blue Mountain highly caffeinated beans, and she turns and asks: why am I emanating, emitting sunshine inside the house so bright, she says, pass my sunglasses! because my brain is cluttered by words of pleasuring and not a word of mine, just a justification for all of those who commit the writing act, the action of filling my soil with extra large green grapes juicy with happy tears…
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May 26
May 26, 2026 at 9:25 AM UTC
GRATITUDE: YOU! Clutter my life- please my undying underlying need
I’m always waiting for something and now I have another thing to wait for. Only this time, it means so much more. Maybe we never message again, or read poems together or give advice or play therapist or send virtual hugs. Maybe we never stay friends, meet irl, insist the other is beautiful, still play therapist, and give real hugs. So I’ll never know what happened to you, only knowing that you’re okay. But for now, that’s enough. I’d rather know you were gone but ok, than here but dying. I’ll still miss you. I hope you miss me too.
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May 25
May 25, 2026 at 8:00 PM UTC
Maybe We Never
The state is seised of the territory, kingdom's drunk to the crest of victory, but the cellar is filled with a story of the boy left behind. She asked for my honesty; too far I went, did what was right, won her tear. For being brave doesn't mean eliminating fear. So, did it happy, did it sad, did it angry, did it scared, didn't succumb to hope, although it felt dope, but hope was no dope. It would have made me dope.. For I never had hope, my priority was and still is, and always will be, conviction!
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May 18
May 18, 2026 at 1:36 AM UTC
No giving in..
~for Eliot~ <> At the mercy of doubt “Most pioneers are at the mercy of doubt at the beginning, whether of their worth, of their theories, or of the whole enigmatic field in which they labour." Richard Hamblyn <><> I begin this day and every day! mercifully in doubt. and in no doubt my stasis is this duality! that my place on earth, from the creation of my birth to its re-creation this day when these very words I script, my purposed dual lives are to doubt the possibilities of, and yet, no doubt! to attempt to uncover new combinations of words for the pleasuring of others for what could ever be a greater pleasure than that?
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May 12
May 12, 2026 at 7:37 AM UTC
At the Mercy of Doubt (My Sole Purpose)
In this vigil, monads two dwell, in stasis primordial, nested... within the sense of subsistence. We are the concomitant arising, yet interdependent, dismantling, shaping the perception of the dark. No dualism survives this pressure; the boundary of self has no descriptor, it's an illusion, a thin phenomenon, absolution is its nature. Augmented into the space of the other, we are the unmanifest stillness, after genesis, before the shatter. Wrapped in the shroud, of mortal shell, two lives, one continuum, waiting to exhale; into the emptiness of the sky..
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May 11
May 11, 2026 at 4:03 AM UTC
Aphenomenal Reality!
My world is far too loud today. So please, tuck me in and chase it away. I don't want to be the one in charge, or feel the weight of a duty so large. Just doodle on the screen and call me yours, while the rest of the world shuts its doors. Be the soft grass, where I get to be small, stay until I forget it all. Stroke my hair through facetime and tell me it’s okay... to let go of everything...
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May 9
May 9, 2026 at 7:26 AM UTC
The soft grass!
System equilibrium. Ultimate. Disaster. Match Perfect. Idiocy. Different kind. Idiot. Frequency. Bend the world. Her feet. Project. Guaranteed delivery. Date. Force multiplier. Leverage. Over sized hoodie. Physicist. Stanford homage. Axis. Girl. The disaster princess. Different Kinda Idiot. Recursive loop. 10/10 grace. My. Nature. Inspiration. Mess. Madness. Her. Peace. Conviction!
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May 9
May 9, 2026 at 6:29 AM UTC
Stanford homage!
A primary colored spine, holding the tantrums of a kingdom. Elephants scale the handle, monkeys swing from the rim, a vertical chaos of paws and tails. Between the wild, plastic petals bloom, flowers, like her wide bright eyes, rooted deep in the gift she gave. It is a sprawling living ark, dripping with stray life, a jungle in my hands keeping the tea warm!
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May 9
May 9, 2026 at 6:24 AM UTC
High stud grip!
Mujhe badalon Ko chir kar Aasman ke upar jana hai . Mujhe dekhni hai vahan ki duniya... Han yah Meri jid hai .. Mujhe vahan jakar dekhne Hain ajoobe.. Kyunki Mera is duniya Se ** Gaya yaar,, Is duniya ki beimani Se . is duniya ki chinta se is duniya ki jhuthi makkaron wali baton Se . is duniya ke dhokhe se is duniya ki vah purani bematlab ki soch se. Sochati *** apni ek alag duniya basaungi . Jahan bharose ki neev banaungi. Jhooth ko koi thikana nahin dungi Apne aap ke liye jiyungi ... Kisi ke rule book ke hisab se nahin Sochati *** ki vah jakar apni alag duniya basaungi. Bus in badalon ko chir kar Aasman ke upar jana hai..
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May 9
May 9, 2026 at 2:34 AM UTC
Meri duniya
~she’ll know who~ these feeling coursing through me it’s not funny It’s urgency ironically soothing, knowing This poem is precisely written individually crafted For a special woman, and how her writing grasps The elemental of my soul; and she thinks why would I care, And I don’t blame her, it’s the logical thing to believe, So I’m writing to you now, to assure plus reassure, My feelings are genuine my caring Real, And you’ll just have to take it at face value, And what I really mean is, That you should tell yourself Some things are simple, and I’ve laid down these words Just so you know, for me there now for you, there is no confuse, and my hallelujah is not broken…
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May 8
May 8, 2026 at 9:53 AM UTC
for a woman poet in my life (unbroken hallelujah)
the mindless spot i stare to of a constantly ticking mechanic. why is it that it's always the mixed dance of turning hands? is it because the timekeeper is unchanging no matter what? no speeding up or slowing down or fear of something unpredicted? maybe it's secretly comforting to invariably know its heartbeat. maybe it comforts to know that time can dictate for me. either way i'm drawn to the hypnosis of the clock, its eternal waltz of minutes and seconds capturing my sight each and every time.
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May 7
May 7, 2026 at 12:12 PM UTC
encapturing me is time
Moving into a smaller place, yet still doing the like-minded things like before, you thought that you would change, but you seem to be doing the same, in fact, a whole lot more, It's hasn't registered yet, that you have moved, the transition wasn't easy, matter fact, It wasn't even smooth, you have so much stuff, WHAT MORE CAN YOU SAY??? A lot you want to keep, but on the contrary, SHOULD BE GIVEN AWAY, or DONATED, NO, IT'S NOT EASY, and YOU'RE NOT EVEN ELATED!!! It seems very tough, It gets very rough, It gets to the point You finally say: ENOUGH!!! It makes No sense, You're almost depressed, You got so many things that You need to give it rest, but you continue to try, as the days go by, looking to thre heavens, for your pie in the sky, but until then, WHERE CAN YOU BEGIN??? MOVING IS A NIGHTMARE!!! HANG TOUGH MY DEAR FRIEND!!!!!!! When you have no room, and the feeling of doom, you're hoping to settle, and not a minute too soon, It's So out of line, but within due time, THINGS WILL LOOK UP, AND YOU WILL BE JUST FINE!!! B.R. Date: 5/4/2026
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May 4
May 4, 2026 at 5:37 PM UTC
Moving into a Smaller Place (Free Write)
Do you hear my longing when I am silent? My lady, silence is not the absence of words, but the quiet fullness of a heart steeped in you. It is my dearest weapon for what lips dare not speak, my soul lays itself at your feet, and confesses all in sacred silence.
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May 4
May 4, 2026 at 12:59 AM UTC
My Silence
A small sun rests in careful hands, a quiet, glowing weight— warm enough to cradle close, too bright to hide away. Once stolen by the waiting sky before the dawn could claim, it drifted, lost in open air, without a voice or a name. Now ripening along the edge where night and silence meet, it trembles at the tender line where hush and heartbeat speak. And ready or not, it leans to rise, through seams it cannot stay— it splits, it slips, it softly spills, and sings itself awake.
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May 3
May 3, 2026 at 3:57 PM UTC
Unrisen
there is always a time for battle and always battles fought on many fronts.
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May 3
May 3, 2026 at 9:10 AM UTC
Battle Axe Poets
When has a sun ever set, without reaching peak? I, too, shall fade. My descent is written, fixed crusade, assigned to fate. But today is mine, let me shine; dazzle beyond your eyes could catch... For when have I ever listened to myself, let alone anyone else!
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May 2
May 2, 2026 at 9:07 AM UTC
Today is all mine.
THIS POEM IS MINE I believe but I don’t know… Poetry was taught back in school??? That was some 40 years ago So let this journey be told!!! Not part of the IPhone generation AOL wasn’t even a creation Black boards and chalk We were made to talk All this has been forgotten But don’t let this be dishearten Devastation happened one day I no longer knew what to say Put down my beer picked up a pen Wrote a poem beginning to end Didn’t know what else to do To help a friend try to get through She inspired me in such a way Wrote a poem almost every day What you don’t understand None of this was planned My friends pushed me through Emotions that were subdue For I can’t comprehend What is at the end of my pen Like a blind man that can’t see I learn a bit differently…… Thanks to my family and friends Who will support me to the end Every poet that has effected me I hope one day that it may be me DAWaldo
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Apr 30
Apr 30, 2026 at 11:05 AM UTC
THIS POEM IS MINE
There’s blood on my hands. Red, hot blood Staining my cracked skin. I didn’t know I could Be that destructive In such a small amount of time: Pick pick PICK The side of my thumb Because I am desperate for Any source of pain Even if it means Repeating mistakes. There’s blood on my hands, And it keeps coming back Like a ghost that haunts. So I wash: once, twice, thrice Scrubbing my hands aggressively, As violently as I can To try and cause more pain. Scrub scrub scrub Until my hands are dry and numb. There’s blood on my hands Marking me, trapping me In my own feelings. They look, they stare So I cover up The blood on my hands.
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Apr 21
Apr 21, 2026 at 2:30 AM UTC
Theres blood on my hands.
Why don’t stars shine in the day, Yet glow calmly at the night? Is the sun their enemy, Or dark is their friend? Do you know why? Noah – Never! Perhaps the sunshine too hardly, So stars get slight hardly, But if the dark sounds louder, Why wouldn’t the sun get sparked? All is a silent balance Never understood by many. Darkness never forces the sun, The sun never outshines the stars on purpose, And stars never fight the night. All they support, Never show, Never shout, Yet they always grow!
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Apr 18
Apr 18, 2026 at 10:20 AM UTC
The silent justice