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#tandem
You are the Ocean and I am the wave moving in tandem as if I'm Your slave. I rise and fall according to Your will though once in a while I'm kept very still. I have no real life without Your sanction which now seems to be like a distraction. There are so many others just like me and I wonder somehow if they agree. In this manner You just do as You please and deploy us all with surprising ease! Our goal seems to be on reaching the shore then return back to You again for more! The presence of the moon has much to say with what goes on Your surface every day. Its influence is more than we'd suspect and has to be treated with some respect. Beyond are other worlds and stars in space along with the sun which dictates the pace. They're orbs of living wonder in that sky and cast their shadows if we care to pry. How unenlightened seems this life of ours when we consider how we pass the hours. For our days are numbered lest we forget but through One's realization some are set. There isn't much else now that can be said before a time comes and we're all but dead. We can only hope that we've done no harm on the Ocean's surface that's full of charm. ___________________
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Nov 14, 2023
Nov 14, 2023 at 9:33 PM UTC
The Ocean and the Wave
Suppose I was a gardener, In a field of dreams. I would **** the earth And plant innumerable seeds. Of passion, of faith, hope and belief To sow happiness, to offer relief. The corporeal, and the intangible Working in tandem, coupled together. The offer of body and soul With the goal of a Brighter tomorrow
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Jun 7, 2023
Jun 7, 2023 at 3:13 PM UTC
A Purple Umbrella
~and for Harlan, who loved this one best~ *"for tandem is the ever-changing, graying color of their fierce attached tenacity" waking/walking in careful pacing regular lock steps, like new cadets, counting cadence, in perfect silent, almost motionless, except for the minuscule quivering of slightly parted moving lips these two elders, still now plebes, freshmen but of a latter, graduated stage, demonstrating robustly the slow shuffle-along, a well practiced dance conjured 'in tandem' her arm, crooked in his, his other hand, in protective custody of a knight's armored chain glove encasing hers, he, shuffling just,   a precise, intended half-a-beat slower lest she ever think that she, ever be a drag upon him hair, his, threaded with daily, new arriving grays, proudly accepted as the privilege of graceful aging hers, disguised with periodic outings, outings for the hidings of life's bookmarks, conceding nothing ever to time's lunatic desire to separate them modest in dress, styling hints of  pasts' elegant, the man's hat defiant, daringly jaunty angled, a small scarf to handbag knotted, matching his Windsor knotted tie the passers-by, all smile,   the signal charm of an end game processional, thinking so sweet, yet mine eyes detect more, something hardy and radical a fierce, fierce fierceness, both fighters in the resistance, armed with tandem tenacity, ground given, but only inches surrendered, wounds resisted by scar skin toughened by the caress of ions bonding under the pressure of atomic level mutuality worn out, well past Purple Hearts, no capitulation feared, to the ever changing, enemies' new disguises, they, a two person platoon, each, having the other's back and I burst into tears on the street, a train of out loud moans, even groans emitted, like a string of perfect pearls breaking, clattering on an asphalt terrain weeping not from visions of the inevitable, sighing not from the certitude of a cycle's uptime ending* but jealous furious by this reminder delightful, angry at myself, for having lost so many wasted years, mine, the loss greatest, for absent was the fierce tenacity of tandem
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Mar 6, 2017
Mar 6, 2017 at 8:41 PM UTC
Tandem: The Color of Their Tenacity
~and for Harlan, who loved this one best~ *"for tandem is the ever-changing, graying color of their fierce attached tenacity" waking/walking in careful pacing regular lock steps, like new cadets, counting cadence, in perfect silent, almost motionless, except for the minuscule quivering of slightly parted moving lips these two elders, still now plebes, freshmen but of a latter, graduated stage, demonstrating robustly the slow shuffle-along, a well practiced dance conjured 'in tandem' her arm, crooked in his, his other hand, in protective custody of a knight's armored chain glove encasing hers, he, shuffling just,   a precise, intended half-a-beat slower lest she ever think that she, ever be a drag upon him hair, his, threaded with daily, new arriving grays, proudly accepted as the privilege of graceful aging hers, disguised with periodic outings, outings for the hidings of life's bookmarks, conceding nothing ever to time's lunatic desire to separate them modest in dress, styling hints of  pasts' elegant, the man's hat defiant, daringly jaunty angled, a small scarf to handbag knotted, matching his Windsor knotted tie the passers-by, all smile,   the signal charm of an end game processional, thinking so sweet, yet mine eyes detect more, something hardy and radical a fierce, fierce fierceness, both fighters in the resistance, armed with tandem tenacity, ground given, but only inches surrendered, wounds resisted by scar skin toughened by the caress of ions bonding under the pressure of atomic level mutuality worn out, well past Purple Hearts, no capitulation feared, to the ever changing, enemies' new disguises, they, a two person platoon, each, having the other's back and I burst into tears on the street, a train of out loud moans, even groans emitted, like a string of perfect pearls breaking, clattering on an asphalt terrain weeping not from visions of the inevitable, sighing not from the certitude of a cycle's uptime ending* but jealous furious by this reminder delightful, angry at myself, for having lost so many wasted years, mine, the loss greatest, for absent was the fierce tenacity of tandem
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85
You... me... both of us and two cups of coffee, a sweet, red wine and a scented Yankee candle, our eyes are whispering to each other, as sweet toffee love can no longer be delayed, but handled. In the background, Zamfir's famous pan flute, dropping lava in my blood, not on the roads, wherever I go, just rose petals in their suit our hearts beat in tandem until they explode. We are the encyclopedia of abundant feelings, we are the actors of an interesting start, life resembles a tragicomedy written on the ceilings at the thought of being followed by a kiss from the heart. Me... you... us... and a beginning of a love story, we have to be patient and take care not to crush the butterflies I annoyed on my wall from the dormitory not to lose them in the labyrinth of love in our rush. There will be feelings that maybe will grow, for we are always running after eternal love, or maybe they will fade, for the fear of saying hello, and then we ask for more time from the mourning dove. But let's give to Time what we owe ... time. Time is you... Time is me... we are both, this season wouldn't starve us, it would be a crime, palm in palm we'd pass through waves and take an oath. We inspire love and we expire a naive passion, the past would be just a small curse dazzling us with many kinds of affection, whispering our names through its silent verse. It's your wave... my wave... it's our wave, we only have air to breathe abruptly while we ascend, we haunt our own thoughts while we crave for the expiry date to never come to an end.
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Aug 28, 2018
Aug 28, 2018 at 5:59 PM UTC
LET'S GIVE TIME
You... me... both of us and two cups of coffee, a sweet, red wine and a scented Yankee candle, our eyes are whispering to each other, as sweet toffee love can no longer be delayed, but handled. In the background, Zamfir's famous pan flute, dropping lava in my blood, not on the roads, wherever I go, just rose petals in their suit our hearts beat in tandem until they explode. We are the encyclopedia of abundant feelings, we are the actors of an interesting start, life resembles a tragicomedy written on the ceilings at the thought of being followed by a kiss from the heart. Me... you... us... and a beginning of a love story, we have to be patient and take care not to crush the butterflies I annoyed on my wall from the dormitory not to lose them in the labyrinth of love in our rush. There will be feelings that maybe will grow, for we are always running after eternal love, or maybe they will fade, for the fear of saying hello, and then we ask for more time from the mourning dove. But let's give to Time what we owe ... time. Time is you... Time is me... we are both, this season wouldn't starve us, it would be a crime, palm in palm we'd pass through waves and take an oath. We inspire love and we expire a naive passion, the past would be just a small curse dazzling us with many kinds of affection, whispering our names through its silent verse. It's your wave... my wave... it's our wave, we only have air to breathe abruptly while we ascend, we haunt our own thoughts while we crave for the expiry date to never come to an end.
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32
I've driven automobiles, boats, and bikes I've got different takes, thoughts, and likes when she's with me holding tightly loving the tandem, my trike
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Aug 23, 2018
Aug 23, 2018 at 12:22 PM UTC
Hold on Baby! (Limerick)
Once there was tandem Now it's all random
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Feb 6, 2016
Feb 6, 2016 at 1:45 AM UTC
Random