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#peril
Directionless Too much gravitation Welcome to the trigger event Mother is the muse in the machine So close to destruction, but still beautiful
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Apr 24
Apr 24, 2026 at 8:55 AM UTC
**** Switch
modern world                                             so convenient so deceitful simple tasks    like walking a dog are given a promotion                                                         to spiritual level activities but  without permission                           sun rises and sets every day and my toenails keep on growing savage i clip  hack  and file                   return to submission                                              so far  so wound
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Aug 15, 2025
Aug 15, 2025 at 10:07 AM UTC
toast-bone
In place of shadows sunspots and creases an embankment the gray of day seizes       nailed to peril as a savior       pushes out all traces in its labor Dust and smoke --the heartless void above the faded ring of hope       say a sated prayer       for your fellow wayfarer I'll shield your body between the rays and surface I'll be your dark clouded step      when your own feet fail to purchase      into the ground they sink
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Jul 14, 2025
Jul 14, 2025 at 5:38 AM UTC
In Place of Shadows
Back together? How wonderful! But I have just one question, For the man in the picture. When you swore not to return, And cursed her as a ***** Did you not mean it at all? My friend, what happened to the dirt you talked?
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Feb 1, 2025
Feb 1, 2025 at 10:19 PM UTC
The Dirt You Talked
Blessed are they who see hope amidst the perils of heartbreak.
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Oct 1, 2020
Oct 1, 2020 at 1:12 PM UTC
Blessed Are They
I am entropy again and it’s not the same. My energy is falling daily, things look dark, ouch, I’m all over these days. Umbral shadows dashing yet slowing my ways. Luminous photons, in my eyes, positive, but accelerating away so negative. Fingernails, chewed. Random urges to ***** tasting for a pink hue. If it’s a cool night, with my pills I’ll get physical. Eyes on the inside bruised black and blue. Confidence approaching zero, thirsty, I’m feeling for clear shots. Mind is dazed, I taste the craze, and can barely rhyme. I’m all over myself, so I’m on nothing when I see her creep out sometimes, taking my space blocking the Sun. I’m sad, tempest-tossed, old shades arise when she appears; hurt, jealousy, anger whispering. I cry from the inside, burning tears. I’m locked within myself once more. Who am I? Lost but not found. I can’t take this any longer. Why does she pick so late to pixelate in my mind? She lives as I die. I beg for mercy! Frightening, so ******* frightening, my happiness isn’t conserved, but why? Hopes, laughs, peace, joy, love; broken, tears, death, fury, darkness. I can’t survive with this mentality, I testify I can’t touch the sky. Do they ever truly leave us alone? She flies over my head, please help me. Why?
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Mar 24, 2020
Mar 24, 2020 at 10:31 AM UTC
Solar Eclipse
I'm gonna crash I'm switching lanes Like a spinning fan I osalate And I'm in danger I'm testing fate My life in peril There's no debate My chance of survival Obliterate My chance is slim And I am on My last whim I'm hanging by A single limb I'm bleeding out I need a stim Like a med pack I need a chopper For an evac I need to run And not look back
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Jan 27, 2019
Jan 27, 2019 at 5:51 PM UTC
// life in peril
when north weird hep exactly danced grassy knoll she'd wake in bed there then flee Bondi thereafter that dramatize her skin tan with splash of coconut thus vacation only hinder her stay here again
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Feb 24, 2018
Feb 24, 2018 at 12:49 PM UTC
North Bondi
The teary rain could not hold back, nor Hold in the torrent of tears Just as the sound of the sea roaring He wept Enmeshed in the ever so scary black clouds Imagining life beneath the earth He raged on without mercy Outpouring, crying, with no reservation; In his rage, he looks on To see small; little rather, creatures Running helter skelter, An evil grimace sits on his face As he sends terror on Mankind Rain; In his glory Peril awaits, dooms days, no mercy
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Sep 20, 2017
Sep 20, 2017 at 5:29 AM UTC
THE BLACK NIGHT OF NOVEMBER
somewhere in there sounds like a kid searching for another permuta- tion of himself, some semblance of a would-be he won’t hate. that’s me, I’ll never run out of pain. this genteel ache, this conclusion, has nothing to do with choice. there are some ***** born broken, those unobtrusives with chapped lips, glancing up for drones that might pick them up then throw them to another Earth, those who like getting into strangers’ cars, laying their head on the dashboard that’s softer than their bed. they on cold nights like to whisper to God: ‘we don’t like this experiment.’ we are more than warning signs of civilization in peril. dead and gone. don’t refuse exploitation; that’s how we still feel useful. don’t the characters in some books make rooves out of leaves? too dogged to prioritize shelter, though. too drugged to maintain another thing doomed to crack and crumble. just never enough time. days flow by like silk into a sawmill. In the dark we try to see if we still stand on strong ground, or surface tension. such is the rhythm. feet damp with cakemud. in darkness we see stoplights turn red, sometimes yellow.
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Sep 1, 2017
Sep 1, 2017 at 1:39 AM UTC
Coke Kids!
god made everything beautiful, even mankind. mankind painted ugliness over god's beauty and framed the distorting and grotesques paintings on their walls, leaving the eyes in peril display for the creations of such a beautiful mind.
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Aug 17, 2017
Aug 17, 2017 at 4:39 AM UTC
Peril Display
I. The black ruin exploded on that cold night, A drenching rain hid a peril, unseen. With lighting strikes a thunderous white, we drove in that hour late, lost and wandering. The dark road stretched like a tight rope, with twisted, wooded boughs cloaked around.   We searched the thick shadows and kept hope, but chaos is all we found. Praying for safe passage, clutching the wheel in fear,   clinging to the way forward, but the way was still unclear… Suddenly the elements flashed a dagger of jagged disaster --   we veered violently, with vertiginous swerve and swallow. sheer horror revealed a visage, eviscerated – eyes of deep pitch and bone, hollow.   Broke and black marrow, portends no tomorrow; shattering glass, splintering wood, shredding tires, spilling blood. Both of us cast into crushing trauma. …I faded into a murk of the mind, of Stygian sentience, slipping beyond, resigned… II. Emerging back from a wild twilight, where I lingered, drifting in a diffuse dusk of a subconscious dream… with a flood of shock sensations! I awoke to a world of twisted metal and wicked pain, extreme. …“This is really happening?!” flashed across my mind, as I struggled to free myself from the maw of debris. I could not tell the time or location of place or friend, but there came flashing lights and helpful souls, rushing to attend. In and out of temporal existence, my eyes dreary -- heart beat shallow, impressions of people and rooms were bleary. Numb in my safety, skating on the surface of an induced calm, I thought, “I am in their care.  I can only let go and let someone else steer.”   But I waver to explore the depths of the well in which I fell; I can’t yet grasp what transpired, and I recoil from the traps -- I resist, I deny, I withdraw, I collapse.   III. The wet, dark, twisted walls rise, reaching high and ringed around. she sheltering shock subsides, and in this well of pain I drown. It was only after many hours, from the moment of impact, the difficult work finally began. To try to come to terms with the meaning of this hard fact, to wash the fear from my heart and the blood from my hands. With bracing clarity I realized how close to death I had wandered. All that my life stood for and meant was crystallized, and yet there was so much weakness and Fear I had not conquered. …And the tears rained down, drenching my face… I reeled in despair, clutching in anguish at the reality, my mind was white with grief. My short life had conceived no honor, no art, no lasting vitality! A legacy of wisdom and love was imperiled, nearly stolen by that phantasmal and cloaked thief.   IV. Reaching out through the tears, calling on my savior for help, I cried out for a way through the shadow, clinging to a hope. Through the blur of hot sadness came a human face, with eyes sending love, healing, empathy, and care… Her voice and presence was as an angel from above. Her tender heart struck like a thunderbolt of compassion.   I was instantly drawn out from the deathly well, and the darkness was dissolved; I was saved from Hell.   this Motherly embrace came and whispered soft words of consolation, as she held my soul aloft.   I felt my hope returning, I saw my life revived. This dawn, I was thankful that from black ruin I survived.
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Aug 6, 2017
Aug 6, 2017 at 1:42 PM UTC
Black Ruin Resurrection
I. The black ruin exploded on that cold night, A drenching rain hid a peril, unseen. With lighting strikes a thunderous white, we drove in that hour late, lost and wandering. The dark road stretched like a tight rope, with twisted, wooded boughs cloaked around.   We searched the thick shadows and kept hope, but chaos is all we found. Praying for safe passage, clutching the wheel in fear,   clinging to the way forward, but the way was still unclear… Suddenly the elements flashed a dagger of jagged disaster --   we veered violently, with vertiginous swerve and swallow. sheer horror revealed a visage, eviscerated – eyes of deep pitch and bone, hollow.   Broke and black marrow, portends no tomorrow; shattering glass, splintering wood, shredding tires, spilling blood. Both of us cast into crushing trauma. …I faded into a murk of the mind, of Stygian sentience, slipping beyond, resigned… II. Emerging back from a wild twilight, where I lingered, drifting in a diffuse dusk of a subconscious dream… with a flood of shock sensations! I awoke to a world of twisted metal and wicked pain, extreme. …“This is really happening?!” flashed across my mind, as I struggled to free myself from the maw of debris. I could not tell the time or location of place or friend, but there came flashing lights and helpful souls, rushing to attend. In and out of temporal existence, my eyes dreary -- heart beat shallow, impressions of people and rooms were bleary. Numb in my safety, skating on the surface of an induced calm, I thought, “I am in their care.  I can only let go and let someone else steer.”   But I waver to explore the depths of the well in which I fell; I can’t yet grasp what transpired, and I recoil from the traps -- I resist, I deny, I withdraw, I collapse.   III. The wet, dark, twisted walls rise, reaching high and ringed around. she sheltering shock subsides, and in this well of pain I drown. It was only after many hours, from the moment of impact, the difficult work finally began. To try to come to terms with the meaning of this hard fact, to wash the fear from my heart and the blood from my hands. With bracing clarity I realized how close to death I had wandered. All that my life stood for and meant was crystallized, and yet there was so much weakness and Fear I had not conquered. …And the tears rained down, drenching my face… I reeled in despair, clutching in anguish at the reality, my mind was white with grief. My short life had conceived no honor, no art, no lasting vitality! A legacy of wisdom and love was imperiled, nearly stolen by that phantasmal and cloaked thief.   IV. Reaching out through the tears, calling on my savior for help, I cried out for a way through the shadow, clinging to a hope. Through the blur of hot sadness came a human face, with eyes sending love, healing, empathy, and care… Her voice and presence was as an angel from above. Her tender heart struck like a thunderbolt of compassion.   I was instantly drawn out from the deathly well, and the darkness was dissolved; I was saved from Hell.   this Motherly embrace came and whispered soft words of consolation, as she held my soul aloft.   I felt my hope returning, I saw my life revived. This dawn, I was thankful that from black ruin I survived.
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150
*the wind blew through an eastern sky the land was barren thirsty and dry there they stood in the meadows eye bearing the same colour as you and I men were savage one could hear them cry wearing voice of the devil about the world in peril*
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Dec 24, 2015
Dec 24, 2015 at 11:30 AM UTC
world in peril
good, so good that's what they say about it- but when I peer down at the scrawl led-dragged, so heavily I know it can never be enough. bokeh lights and smoke streams an insignificant metaphor- just as Love is an understatement. bullet wounds don't match how hard You hurt. discontent gets old and eight months of displeasure of dead static psychosis have rendered me useless; defined me as dead to whatever connection I held with beauty, glory, understanding. so good, they say as the pictures piece together in the minds hungry eye, starving to relate, unknown to the fact it can never catch the passion; the poetry is powerless.
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Dec 11, 2015
Dec 11, 2015 at 1:00 AM UTC
A Poets Perils
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Oct 17, 2015
Oct 17, 2015 at 1:41 AM UTC
Lost at sea.
I look down and see the burning of these lines The deep red indentions That only form over time And I'm trying to figure out what sets them off Emotional peril Or being weaned off
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Dec 17, 2014
Dec 17, 2014 at 2:37 PM UTC
Red lines
How do I start to tell people? That you are my favorite pitfall. You've put me into this battlefield, without me knowing all its hazards. By-and-by it's your presence, that I cannot contain this growing imminence. I saw this coming and I got immune to the pain fell deeply in love as your light slowly fades away. You challenge me you play very well, used every card even my pride in peril. Left alone with the hope you'll start to see, all the menace that abrupts everything will lead to me. If this is too much to ask of you, spare me no trouble for I am afraid too. Fck readiness fck life, for you I'd wait even until the great divide. Great distress and jeopardy, whatever happens you know you'll have me. Cold as ice you pull away, assiduously I will travail. You are the threat I will always salute, the danger I'd fiercely hang on to. All the risks you try to put me through, I'd be gratified to fight for that single fcking chance to have you.
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Jun 3, 2014
Jun 3, 2014 at 10:08 PM UTC
RISKS.