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#platinum
I’ve tasted the echoes of a flame; inhaling silhouettes of the night’s smoke; wasting time under the clouds of downhill voices, speaking low on my worth.Where I recall my mother’s voice as the sturdy cane of discipline – as we read about disciples who were just ordinary men; we were orderly raised, where being scolded a third time about coming to bath at five, was just a part of our ordinary days. My most trusted companions where the imaginary friends I made up – who knew they'd get me in trouble, if I was found talking to myself while I play. And I don’t feel that old, but nostalgia has been resting on my soul; the better parts of it, and also the worst – where I grew up with the biggest fear around girls. Though part of that fear still remains, only we changed the fear of girls, to a fear of falling in love with the wrong girl. “But I love her though,” by that statement I'll know I’ve definitely fallen underneath the floor. I hardly questioned my flaws; until I grew a little order and started to be so aware of them all – then I grew a little older, to soon realize they’re all just a part of us all. And I don’t feel that old, even when the wisdom I get isn’t always the same wisdom the youth can own – still I hope their purpose is the one thing they can own. I have to keep a piece of self-worth in my silver thoughts, interlaced like a plait – even when I think up a few corny bars; I still see myself as platinum. _Signed here... a Platinum baby._
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Mar 27, 2025
Mar 27, 2025 at 5:10 PM UTC
Platinum baby
I’ve tasted the echoes of a flame; inhaling silhouettes of the night’s smoke; wasting time under the clouds of downhill voices, speaking low on my worth.Where I recall my mother’s voice as the sturdy cane of discipline – as we read about disciples who were just ordinary men; we were orderly raised, where being scolded a third time about coming to bath at five, was just a part of our ordinary days. My most trusted companions where the imaginary friends I made up – who knew they'd get me in trouble, if I was found talking to myself while I play. And I don’t feel that old, but nostalgia has been resting on my soul; the better parts of it, and also the worst – where I grew up with the biggest fear around girls. Though part of that fear still remains, only we changed the fear of girls, to a fear of falling in love with the wrong girl. “But I love her though,” by that statement I'll know I’ve definitely fallen underneath the floor. I hardly questioned my flaws; until I grew a little order and started to be so aware of them all – then I grew a little older, to soon realize they’re all just a part of us all. And I don’t feel that old, even when the wisdom I get isn’t always the same wisdom the youth can own – still I hope their purpose is the one thing they can own. I have to keep a piece of self-worth in my silver thoughts, interlaced like a plait – even when I think up a few corny bars; I still see myself as platinum. _Signed here... a Platinum baby._
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A Surfeit of Light by Michael R. Burch There was always a surfeit of light in your presence. You stood distinctly apart, not of the humdrum world— a chariot of gold in a procession of plywood. We were all pioneers of the modern expedient race, raising the ante: Home Depot to Lowe’s. Yours was an antique grace—Thrace’s or Mesopotamia’s. We were never quite sure of your silver allure, of your trillium-and-platinum diadem, of your utter lack of flatware-like utility. You told us that night—your wound would not scar. The black moment passed, then you were no more. The darker the sky, how much brighter the Star! The day of your funeral, I ripped out the crown mold. You were this fool’s gold. Keywords/Tags: surfeit, light, presence, chariot, Thrace, Mesopotamia, silver, gold, platinum, antique, grace, heirloom, diadem, crown, tiara Alas, Sir Munchalot! by Michael R. Burch You ate too much, your common lot; you munched too much, so now you’ve got a gut.
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Mar 29, 2020
Mar 29, 2020 at 5:49 AM UTC
A Surfeit of Light
am just fantasising about you, your sweet body, those ***** sweet kisses. The heart warming sensual moans as our bodies rock, and I slide into that sweet honeypot. I can still feel the tremors of pleasure as I go deeper and deeper into you. I Love the smell our sticky bodies as we wash each other with our body juices. My bedroom mistress, I yearn to learn more from your wealth of the act. You are an artist and I wish to be your apprentice. Teach me, let me do the practicals. Grade me, but let me have retakes. Let me scoop the honey, let me lick every drop, Let me get drunk, Allow me to savour the life dregs, Let my fingers play the fiddle, Let me sing and waltz to the rhythm, Let me strike the notes in crescendo, Allow me to drown in the melody. Our song will have no words, The music will not be meant for more than a pair of ears. In our studio of five by six, We will edit and launch our album, And on our memory wall it will hang, As the best platinum album of 2019.
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Mar 11, 2019
Mar 11, 2019 at 10:08 PM UTC
The best platinum album 2019
braided reflections midsummer intertwining flying to the sun
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Jan 31, 2019
Jan 31, 2019 at 10:19 PM UTC
Platinum Patina
Watching you stretch Your leg extended along the horizon Always reaching for the sky Determination so fierce You inspire me to put my ink to use Writing effortlessly About the way your body moves How your genius creates the steps Suspended animation I can’t wrap my head around Constantly moving And consistently untouchable
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Sep 6, 2018
Sep 6, 2018 at 9:57 AM UTC
The Dancer
Her light can been seen eternally, both near and far free spirit, snow white queen proudly bearing all her scars Her words a salve and bandage binding wounds and pain never putting out as salvage love and caring, her refrain She doesn't have to say it it's bound in every word of prose heart as pure as any true commit platinum is the angel, behind the purist rose
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Dec 19, 2016
Dec 19, 2016 at 10:30 AM UTC
Tis Platinum Behind a Rose
Silver flakes tarnish, She left for gold; all along, He was platinum.
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Dec 15, 2016
Dec 15, 2016 at 6:05 PM UTC
Leave
I'll be rising out of the sea --you'll worship me Hide your face beneath layers of  Tranlucent glass  (see through) I won't be on the other Side of the equation for once You'll burn with the force of my Heat do you remember How You perfected it? (I do) I will live a life-- Regrets, hatred, love, laughter And all you will Be is one of the many thorns  In the rose of my  (Previous life) I will break you Piece by piece--dissected  Every scratch, every nuance  Of emotion you show I'll use it against you (I learned from the best)  I will raise my head Above the clouds because I  Deserve to fly--higher than  You and your platinum eyes That never seen to smile (Not once)  One day, but not just yet.
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Mar 16, 2015
Mar 16, 2015 at 12:47 AM UTC
One day