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#wept
the sky forgot its name   so i called it you   your breath was a moth   trapped in a jar of honey   i spilled my thoughts   on the sidewalk they turned into buttons   and rolled toward the gutter   a cloud wore my face   and wept   into a shoe   full of clocks
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Oct 15, 2025
Oct 15, 2025 at 6:50 PM UTC
Moth Jar Serenade
another night’s ocean liner passage, now sunrise bookmarked, by prayer hailed, when wet cheeks express emotional humanity and a tissue better be handy too many times this is how the day greets me, and I, it, wetted and vetted to have made it as far as one more, having lived you in me, me in you, an exchange of tonguing word kisses, that break me into pieces of consolations it’s embarrassing an elder man weeps for no reason other than words have swept him overboard, crazy love this fascinating addiction to a new morning’s addition  composition incision on a plain soul indistinguishable amidst the mist of millions of others who rise up beside, aside, reside within and his breached heart, even strangers, complete the neuronal connection that demands his years of years upon awaking to the grinning fawning dawn mooning him with pure white light that wrecks him open, rents his disposition, an inquisition of words intrusively intruding causing wept tears fully formed energizing emerging, songs of words that you give him as a question to be loved, for finding the answers multiple is a penultimate thrill, confirming this wetness that he lives to be loved, give love, and breaks h a p p i l y into pieces of/if contented peace and thus summed, the day’s obligations seem less daunting, and with some luck and bulk coffee ingestion, there will be solutions to anything and then he types, **and this one, done!** <> 6:49am march 2 Sun Day two zero two 5
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Mar 11, 2025
Mar 11, 2025 at 2:31 PM UTC
Consoling Consolations & Kisses (where sunrise weeping is commonly kept)
~ a woman, weeping, at her own wedding dinner, copiously, bleating sobs, unsignaled, unprovoked, inexplicable. misunderstanding guests, shifting their weight from foot to foot, searching for a combo-pose of of joyous discomfort. all is well, say the wedding singers, hymns of wedding songs they perform, encouraging the standers-about to dance, all whom are inconsolably confused about the wed woman's recognition of a moment's milestone marker which distinguishes, her totality, feeling the differential between the miles ahead, the miles already passed, but cannot answer the singular considerable consideration question, is this mine, the right road and am I who I am supposed to be, or the supposition of others which is why bride weeps at her wedding ~ a sober, industrious, quiet man of many middle years, seen sway dancing on the lawn at 6:00 AM, to sounds unheard, was it music, voices, a breaking point, the birth of madness? we, who watched from within, behind a safe boundary of glass and stucco and timber, jealously considering alternate theories of creation of the universe, dual roles, observing guests and voyeurs, prayed for ourselves, desirous of his wishes granted, swayed with him, in flagrante delicto, co-conspirators unseen, but jailed, behind protective walls of glass and stucco and timber, sotto voce confessing priest-worthy sins while protesting their innocent knowledge of a man's delightful craziness, a distraction from weeping brides ~ the parents posts to Facebook pictures of children, warily unaware that their favoritism is slip showing oh they favor the youngest son, beautiful Joseph with many colored coats, possessing the practiced cuteness and skillfully employ how to manipulate it sweetly on suspecting adults the  eldest daughter, unconsciously, is the child made over into a physical representation, a manifestation of themselves preserved as parents are wont to do just because they can ~ the swayer wedding guest pray~dances to the tune of: give over, her to me, to me, to replant her unsuspecting in garden wild, feed her colors of her as yet unthought of, foresee her aching beauty, teach her freedom dancing by the sea, weeping at her weeping at her wedding simpatico with her, confusion and joy and fear which is why the man sway dances on the lawn at 6:00 am and weeps copious bereft and joyous, at the possibilities of conquering life and foresees the child wedding weeping and weeps in anticipatory empathy sympathy at their cojoined kinship fate ~
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May 30, 2015
May 30, 2015 at 2:40 PM UTC
why the bride wept at her wedding and other stories...
~ a woman, weeping, at her own wedding dinner, copiously, bleating sobs, unsignaled, unprovoked, inexplicable. misunderstanding guests, shifting their weight from foot to foot, searching for a combo-pose of of joyous discomfort. all is well, say the wedding singers, hymns of wedding songs they perform, encouraging the standers-about to dance, all whom are inconsolably confused about the wed woman's recognition of a moment's milestone marker which distinguishes, her totality, feeling the differential between the miles ahead, the miles already passed, but cannot answer the singular considerable consideration question, is this mine, the right road and am I who I am supposed to be, or the supposition of others which is why bride weeps at her wedding ~ a sober, industrious, quiet man of many middle years, seen sway dancing on the lawn at 6:00 AM, to sounds unheard, was it music, voices, a breaking point, the birth of madness? we, who watched from within, behind a safe boundary of glass and stucco and timber, jealously considering alternate theories of creation of the universe, dual roles, observing guests and voyeurs, prayed for ourselves, desirous of his wishes granted, swayed with him, in flagrante delicto, co-conspirators unseen, but jailed, behind protective walls of glass and stucco and timber, sotto voce confessing priest-worthy sins while protesting their innocent knowledge of a man's delightful craziness, a distraction from weeping brides ~ the parents posts to Facebook pictures of children, warily unaware that their favoritism is slip showing oh they favor the youngest son, beautiful Joseph with many colored coats, possessing the practiced cuteness and skillfully employ how to manipulate it sweetly on suspecting adults the  eldest daughter, unconsciously, is the child made over into a physical representation, a manifestation of themselves preserved as parents are wont to do just because they can ~ the swayer wedding guest pray~dances to the tune of: give over, her to me, to me, to replant her unsuspecting in garden wild, feed her colors of her as yet unthought of, foresee her aching beauty, teach her freedom dancing by the sea, weeping at her weeping at her wedding simpatico with her, confusion and joy and fear which is why the man sway dances on the lawn at 6:00 am and weeps copious bereft and joyous, at the possibilities of conquering life and foresees the child wedding weeping and weeps in anticipatory empathy sympathy at their cojoined kinship fate ~
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First day, I wept, For I didn’t understand what was wrong Second day, I wept again, For not understanding my own self. Third day, I was numb, And it didn’t matter if I was wrong anymore. Fourth day, I stopped, My thoughts for it was not worth it to ponder. Fifth day, I got up, With courage I did not realise that I even had. Sixth day, I walked out, Of the cage that i built in my mind.
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Jun 26, 2019
Jun 26, 2019 at 2:19 PM UTC
6 days
I must have dropped my dreams at some point, Because all of the sudden they were on the floor. 'Be careful!' I exclaimed. 'We are,' they claimed. They weren't. Suddenly my dreams were being stepped on. I thought it would be okay, But then I realized They were shattered. My dreams! They were crushed by the careless acts of someone. They said they would be careful Now everything I ever wanted is broken, Shattered with all hope lost. Crunch. The sound they made when the fateful action occurred. My "loved one" so thoughtlessly stepped, They knew, I told them, and they didn't care. All hope lost and my dreams scattering with every second. I wept.
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May 21, 2019
May 21, 2019 at 12:18 AM UTC
'My Dreams!'
He wept for her bleeding heart when she had no more tears to shed. She fought with all her might to save him from his demons. He waived his morals for her freedom. She waived hers for his. The ransom was their lives. The bet was their love. Until they didn't have anything left but memories of what once was, what could have been, what it should be.
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Nov 12, 2018
Nov 12, 2018 at 11:28 AM UTC
What They've Lost for Each Other
Crushed against the certainty of what I know is true Held against adversity all the winds, that blew Beat upon the rock love's bitter truth of stone Heart and soul unlocked left battered and alone I'll not gloss over the intent or mellow in the fold What was made, and bent yet held up as purest gold That, that was forever and locked within my depths Is now a flowing river all the tears that I have wept
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Jun 23, 2018
Jun 23, 2018 at 3:06 PM UTC
Past tears
I am growing a flower 'Twas rooted in good soil I nurtured and watered my flower It grew strong and bold in color. Then a day came when foreign seed found its place and tainted thy soil As nutrients became scarce I poured more water so the soil became soft as I fought the foreign seed I wept. My flower has rejected the nutrients from my water. I fought till every foreign plant had been removed and rebuked their roots I nurtured and watered my flower It grew stronger and more bold in color I have a new flower in full bloom.
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Sep 29, 2016
Sep 29, 2016 at 5:56 AM UTC
Flower
*as she wept bones became songs.*
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Sep 26, 2016
Sep 26, 2016 at 9:19 AM UTC
unsung
One day… The bird looked up into the sky, from the comfort of her nest. As she looked to the sky, She noticed the woman in the moon. the woman smiled at her. So every night she would look up at the woman, Talking till the sun came up. On one special night, when the moon was closest to the bird and full, the bird confessed her love to the woman in the moon. The moon wept… So the bird began to fly, closer and closer to the moon, but as she did the air became thin. As the woman in the moon turned her back to the bird, the bird began to fall. Landing in a pit. The entrance collapsed, Trapping the bird. … Her love was gone, She would never see the moon again. ~Moral or Lesson: Do not fall in love, because eventually you will be hurt.
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Oct 9, 2015
Oct 9, 2015 at 11:31 AM UTC
The Woman in The Moon & The Bird in The Sky
I once wept in your presence and you judged me. You were right, I'm weak. In all my solitude I grasped a hand, In all my suffering I leaned on many shoulders, Through highs and lows I was held with love. So now I face the world alone, You dare call me weak? Climb and sore with no hand to hold, You dare call me weak? Man my own battles and slit my own throats, You dare call me weak? Look you in the eyes and say "I don't need you anymore", You dare weep in front of me?                                                        s.q.
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Jul 27, 2014
Jul 27, 2014 at 1:46 PM UTC
I Once Wept