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#thinks
La vita è bella Hold any taken chance, waiting in mind, planning action lucidly, clearly seeing through hoped t'be once before, now t'never was, yet nor could have been, justice just for its own sake right now, only once, now, but while our minds were at the circus, ensorcelled, entranced, as seen on TV entertained out of our minds at the counting fair, queued up to see the final quarrel using nukes, contained within the mobilized mass of we, the people, singing jibberish and raving ecstatic as early man who had no hell, joyous nonsensed we shapen cloud, dancing. But, that's not you, is it? No time to watch the end of the world. Life is a chore, a duty assigned, a calling to serve the whole, order established, after pangs of disestablishmentarianism's errors. Matter made from energy, mind bending best intended results, except… having the good sense God gave a green apple. Return on investment from my grandma. The aim of all good ideas is beautiful. The expectant success, seen before being taken in stride, step after step, to life's end. Waiting, while meandering in life's realized library of all we have gained after realizing knowledge recognized as comforting, really works in the core chaos knotted dreads real dim points of light, from the old city on a hill, a mighty fortress, a bulwark, never failing, enlightening the fog of war, beyond which no life does not reshape its reasoning weighing machine, perpendicular pivot balance, serpentine millipede weform worth… true balance and jeweled pivots, silicone slick speeding ion quest… no hidden meaning, mere idle time revaluation. Just thinking, adjusting the load, hard nuts we take to be cracked at the fire we share. Be having, rationed good sense, detecting pattern sequential, after history is now, after now is next, and next, again, upon comprehension made ritually exceptionalized, there is no place like home, the idea… in traditional stories rebroadcast into cultural consciousness comfort zone allegorically religimenting, hope each winter and spring summer and fall… working no need for pointless pain or friction unmollified, golden oil economy of Greece, illiteracy blissfully believing the noble stories told and retold, it's a wonderful life. We can smile, we can hide the horrors of war. But Art as truth's goad through life, ties token reminders to hearken when thinking wishing praying were hopings forseen, just so. Sleep, and rise and head toward tomorrow. Watching your steps until you're sure, from then on the way is made smooth blessed assurance, balance is mine dulling joint effort and toil freeing hands to manipulate, fibers and spider's webbing, in to toys to pay attention to, seasonal significance literally lost as the survivors from past holy terrors refuse reconfusion, defusing the future bomb. So, say we let go all our certainties, waiting absent mindedly taken up in mystery religious ligamental nets of reminding caution, cuidado,] step lightly. La vita è bella
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May 12, 2025
May 12, 2025 at 3:56 PM UTC
Belief relief, fret not
La vita è bella Hold any taken chance, waiting in mind, planning action lucidly, clearly seeing through hoped t'be once before, now t'never was, yet nor could have been, justice just for its own sake right now, only once, now, but while our minds were at the circus, ensorcelled, entranced, as seen on TV entertained out of our minds at the counting fair, queued up to see the final quarrel using nukes, contained within the mobilized mass of we, the people, singing jibberish and raving ecstatic as early man who had no hell, joyous nonsensed we shapen cloud, dancing. But, that's not you, is it? No time to watch the end of the world. Life is a chore, a duty assigned, a calling to serve the whole, order established, after pangs of disestablishmentarianism's errors. Matter made from energy, mind bending best intended results, except… having the good sense God gave a green apple. Return on investment from my grandma. The aim of all good ideas is beautiful. The expectant success, seen before being taken in stride, step after step, to life's end. Waiting, while meandering in life's realized library of all we have gained after realizing knowledge recognized as comforting, really works in the core chaos knotted dreads real dim points of light, from the old city on a hill, a mighty fortress, a bulwark, never failing, enlightening the fog of war, beyond which no life does not reshape its reasoning weighing machine, perpendicular pivot balance, serpentine millipede weform worth… true balance and jeweled pivots, silicone slick speeding ion quest… no hidden meaning, mere idle time revaluation. Just thinking, adjusting the load, hard nuts we take to be cracked at the fire we share. Be having, rationed good sense, detecting pattern sequential, after history is now, after now is next, and next, again, upon comprehension made ritually exceptionalized, there is no place like home, the idea… in traditional stories rebroadcast into cultural consciousness comfort zone allegorically religimenting, hope each winter and spring summer and fall… working no need for pointless pain or friction unmollified, golden oil economy of Greece, illiteracy blissfully believing the noble stories told and retold, it's a wonderful life. We can smile, we can hide the horrors of war. But Art as truth's goad through life, ties token reminders to hearken when thinking wishing praying were hopings forseen, just so. Sleep, and rise and head toward tomorrow. Watching your steps until you're sure, from then on the way is made smooth blessed assurance, balance is mine dulling joint effort and toil freeing hands to manipulate, fibers and spider's webbing, in to toys to pay attention to, seasonal significance literally lost as the survivors from past holy terrors refuse reconfusion, defusing the future bomb. So, say we let go all our certainties, waiting absent mindedly taken up in mystery religious ligamental nets of reminding caution, cuidado,] step lightly. La vita è bella
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one of the poets on planet thinks their shakespeare which on is it   ha
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Oct 4, 2021
Oct 4, 2021 at 12:07 PM UTC
haiku 21/10/4a
Long nights consume the slivers of day Darkness is the Alaskan way Has the song sung in summer flew away with the birds? Our have we just forgotten the words? Been in the shadow cast by winter's arrival Since then the cold has been my rival Branches break the sky up like pieces of glass I look upwards as I walk waiting for danger to pass Over hills the moon hangs in late afternoon Hovering like a half-inflated balloon Commitment to visibility not faltering a bit Sometimes partly hidden but never completely quits Dreams of warmer weather weave strands throughout my brain Trying to ignore the snowfall exclaiming outside the windowpane Putting all effort into embracing the ice I can't be the only one who thinks some sunshine would be nice
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Nov 30, 2020
Nov 30, 2020 at 8:23 AM UTC
The Alaskan Way
In romantic relationships You speak Latin And your empire falls In platonic relationships You speak Greek And think about caves
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Apr 21, 2019
Apr 21, 2019 at 1:55 AM UTC
Relationships
I guess I love the way you listen with your lips I guess I love the way we live inside our dreams You take away the tears With one insignificant laugh One look at us in the lazy afternoon hue I know why I'm with you Why am I so hesitant to accept your lips and laugh? To run away in your eyes full of sunlight Because my pupils never grow You might be blinded by the light. Because I see storm clouds It is raining, drops of my blue tears.
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Feb 7, 2019
Feb 7, 2019 at 12:38 PM UTC
I Guess I Love You
Are you ok?My thinks are rock.You never find my dreams and slow.Slow words,slow songs and brains codes.How you can try,what you can saw.I wanna painting your worlds...
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Oct 6, 2018
Oct 6, 2018 at 12:10 PM UTC
Are you OK?
tall grass, broken glass tall grass, broken glass Shredded soles Along the slate shoals Shredded souls Oh, where my heart goes Tall grass, broken glass Thorns aplenty and dust to ash Rotted bodies Of water and trash Thorns serrated- sulks in the grass with- broken glass, ash to ash Still the rivers flows Over rocks and stones And washes away, every smitten day Begotten mud forms Compressed into stone or primordial bones with a spirit on loan nevertheless We will have our tall grass We will make our broken glass And as the mountains burn to the ground we'll shrug and state "ash to ash."
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Jun 27, 2018
Jun 27, 2018 at 6:22 PM UTC
Tall grass, Broken glass
you were me then i could still **** you and live it don't work like that so we wish ? ... .. .
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Jan 25, 2018
Jan 25, 2018 at 6:42 AM UTC
we wish
you burned the cage, and the ashes are around you. you have broken up with God, and, now, you have no support in the Universe. you eat blackberries from the bush, and you will have a stomach problem. the one who tastes dirt, will be ***** the flames of fire tend to burn the women to ashes, too. and their will be no lip prints on the ashes of the burned.
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Jan 29, 2017
Jan 29, 2017 at 3:17 PM UTC
you burned
Her thoughts keep on running inside her head. She don't really know what to do but keep on having those thoughts.
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Sep 21, 2015
Sep 21, 2015 at 8:55 AM UTC
Thoughts
Wake up! Wake up!! What? I have a hole! What? Come see! What? **Come and look!** Sure... ...What is this? This is my hole. It's a notebook! It's a stack of notebooks! How is that a hole? It's my rabbit hole! Your what? **My rabbit hole! I jump through it, you see And anyhing can happen I can walk on the moon! Or breathe underwater. Or anything! Do you like my rabbit hole? What an incredible universe That we could live in If you could only see.**
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May 14, 2014
May 14, 2014 at 5:21 PM UTC
My Hole
Whose got the answers? Rise oh rise! Whose got the answers now? Whose criticizing? Oh rise, oh rise? Whose criticizing now? Who thinks they know, and who knows they think? Trumping their thoughts, onto me? Who knows what's right, and who knows what's wrong? Who has the answers to fix everyone? Tell me, oh tell me, I just have to know, whose got the answers now?
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May 11, 2014
May 11, 2014 at 2:46 PM UTC
Whose Got The Answers (sort of like a song)
My brain constantly Deceives my heart
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Apr 15, 2014
Apr 15, 2014 at 3:04 PM UTC
Deceit