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#placid
Serenely the swan Through the placid misty lake With elegance glides.
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May 2
May 2, 2026 at 9:43 AM UTC
Serenity
I am awoken from a restful sleep aware of the fresh air the open window brings as she begins to sing it is the sound of the loon calling me to her side I stride towards the beckoning sound and her shore as the door swings open to a new dawn and a rising sun the early morning mist departing to reveal her beauty she is glass like this day, stillness the allure her stillness belies her truth that she can be rough enough as I stand beside her admiring the horizon she willingly displays my ears are attune to her lapping sounds, my heart calm launching my canoe I begin to paddle amidst her blueness each stroke like the combing of her hair with twirls and curls today she allows me to glide with ease yet she can also be a tease the gentle breeze now professed can transform into a mighty storm it is within her grace that she allows me this place of serenity for she could as easily sweep off my serendipity with a rough sea sounds of gulls take my eyes upwards into the clear blue sky watching them soar all the while jealous of their ability for flight a honking sound now has me looking to my right to catch sight of a gaggle of geese in mid-flight her back their launching pad and without warning there’s a splash as a fish leaps into the air in search of its morning dish of insect and bugs, as it dives back into the water, its sanctuary, its home I am reminded again of her kindness that she provides in sheltering bays her gentle waves taking me on a journey into the depths of this lake they call Placid Andreas Simic©
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Jun 17, 2022
Jun 17, 2022 at 7:16 AM UTC
Call Her Placid
I am awoken from a restful sleep aware of the fresh air the open window brings as she begins to sing it is the sound of the loon calling me to her side I stride towards the beckoning sound and her shore as the door swings open to a new dawn and a rising sun the early morning mist departing to reveal her beauty she is glass like this day, stillness the allure her stillness belies her truth that she can be rough enough as I stand beside her admiring the horizon she willingly displays my ears are attune to her lapping sounds, my heart calm launching my canoe I begin to paddle amidst her blueness each stroke like the combing of her hair with twirls and curls today she allows me to glide with ease yet she can also be a tease the gentle breeze now professed can transform into a mighty storm it is within her grace that she allows me this place of serenity for she could as easily sweep off my serendipity with a rough sea sounds of gulls take my eyes upwards into the clear blue sky watching them soar all the while jealous of their ability for flight a honking sound now has me looking to my right to catch sight of a gaggle of geese in mid-flight her back their launching pad and without warning there’s a splash as a fish leaps into the air in search of its morning dish of insect and bugs, as it dives back into the water, its sanctuary, its home I am reminded again of her kindness that she provides in sheltering bays her gentle waves taking me on a journey into the depths of this lake they call Placid Andreas Simic©
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rims rolling, underneath the machine moving on a path beaten legs of one leaving, they look good departing she had a packet of sugar, what was it she sought to sweeten tarter than battery acid, acidic lady who makes the mood, placid you try, gathering to go after to follow this feeling, disheartening this love was a disaster but you want more, mayday man maybe, today you'll get her
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Feb 24, 2021
Feb 24, 2021 at 4:10 AM UTC
Don't Think About It Too Much
Drifted off into the space for I was adamant about my perception. People abhorred my placid nature for my impressions created a ripple effect in continuous motion. Stray thoughts I possessed something awoken yet under-acknowledged the unseen beauty vanished into the deepest oceans.
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Jun 22, 2020
Jun 22, 2020 at 11:00 AM UTC
Stray
and our whining eyes, with time, get adjusted to the deadly darkness. "
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Jun 3, 2020
Jun 3, 2020 at 11:39 PM UTC
serene
Received on February 14th, valentines day Not meant to be this way Just for my soul to train The cup she gave me my valued  possession turned to the thing blocking progression I drink from it Filled with rage Wrists un-slid again, this stage Keep it to tease the beast inside me for if I throw it away I would be the same that I was the day I broke her and threw her away
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Sep 17, 2018
Sep 17, 2018 at 5:49 AM UTC
That cup
Meet me where the Daisies bloom where it often showers too. Meet me at the crack of dawn It will be only me and you. Meet me where the sun-rays fall and paint my hair auburn-red. We'll walk around the mossy knolls and run upon the grassy bed. Meet me where the trees and leaves are still dripping with the morning dew. Meet me at the quiet end, all alone, with a placid view. All I need is a simple gesture or even a solemn promise from you. Promise me you will come for me Then I will think about it too. A.S.
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Jul 3, 2018
Jul 3, 2018 at 1:30 PM UTC
The Meeting
Placid water parts, Up flies quick, a cormorant; Epiphanous this!
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May 14, 2018
May 14, 2018 at 1:26 AM UTC
Submarine Avian
On the lake Sits a toad, An ugly thing Three years old With boils, large lumps, And a croak That challenges The voice Of an old woman Who smokes. Placidly he stares Off in space, And doesn't care What takes a glance And passes upon his lake. He is a simple thing, Three years old Admiring tranquility On a quiet lake.
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Jun 29, 2017
Jun 29, 2017 at 12:38 PM UTC
Water Toad
Anxious, strained, agitated, placid, still, dispassionate Reference the DSM and of its many pages Ask ad infinitum, Will you heal schism? Lines of my shape in shade seem monstrous when I've been your part and whole well before your birth Not long ago you were pale, semen-white I breathed over your mother's neck I painted canvas with color
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Jun 14, 2017
Jun 14, 2017 at 8:56 PM UTC
Energies|Down Below
He was lake placid Her shadow fell on water, The lake is ablaze.
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Apr 8, 2017
Apr 8, 2017 at 3:42 PM UTC
Fiery amour-Haiku
The pills do not work like promised, For the thoughts still remain. They have accomplished little, Other than to drive me insane. I feel myself becoming emotionless, The medication smothers my ability to feel. It helps me to endure this situation, But it allows no room to heal. But these blue pills, at least they are something, Something to ease my suffering. These many bad nights have left me terrified, For I am prone to shuddering. Having hindered emotions Is better than feeling anxious or depressed. So I will take this treatment even if Happiness also suffers in the pursuit of rest.
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May 30, 2016
May 30, 2016 at 7:27 PM UTC
Anti-depressant
Your soul's obscene The worst I've seen Your soul's to putrid It's been polluted Your soul's turned rancid It's stagnant and placid You are a travesty An unforgivable tragedy Stick that needle in your arm Anything that harms Pop those pills You have no self will Continue doing what you do But you can count on this, I'm through The smell of death surrounds you Your choices are growing few I'm tired of being on the wall, the fly Just sitting here watching you die
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May 19, 2016
May 19, 2016 at 10:10 AM UTC
An Obscene, Putrid Soul
You have a seemingly Placid mind that Strikes back with the Vengeance of a Thousand slain Kings.
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May 10, 2016
May 10, 2016 at 12:16 PM UTC
Words Written on Napkins- Vengeance
My tears have caught in my eye sockets, Far back where they cannot pass. I yearn for the temporary relief of their flowing, But that relief would not last. Once the tears dried up, Resolve trickling back into my mind, Self-hatred would be the only feeling, The only thing I would find. So, crying is not worth it, Though I feel ready to explode. I have run far from my past, When the tears always flowed. To return now, to break down my wall, Of cold, placid emotion, I think that would be a fall, Some sort of pitiful demotion.
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Apr 22, 2016
Apr 22, 2016 at 12:37 PM UTC
The Placid Wall
You are an artifact, chiseled alabaster,        I am just molded plaster of Paris, You remain rich shiny white,       irrespective of seasonal changes, I need frequent  involvement of hands       that know their craft well, to be seen as an object of art, that barely survives,     but still brittle, would easily turn to dust. Men and women are different, inside out     I was told, I see it myself now and delighted! Over and over again I ask you to be aware of       the limitations that tie me down and forgive but you won't accept, go on with your life quietly        caring so much to keep my sinking heart buoyant.
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Jan 17, 2016
Jan 17, 2016 at 1:29 PM UTC
Placid feminine
Aprils  fresh  teardrops Brings  a  placid  and  lulling Sensual  melody
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Apr 29, 2014
Apr 29, 2014 at 3:30 PM UTC
April Showers (Haiku)