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#wordy
Sometimes it's as simple as squeezing one thought into one quotation Sometimes it's too wordy to reach that satisfaction following an end Sometimes it's simple but ya can't find the words while missing all the signs Sometimes it's complicated but can be illustrated in just a few lines Sometimes you can't figure out how to coax it out Sometimes there's no stopping it from getting out and wandering about ©2024
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May 21, 2024
May 21, 2024 at 2:23 AM UTC
~•§•~ Wandering About ~•§•~
Suddenly the plot sickens… Lurching out of a comatose state, the sudden onset of panic…left with a past that has never passed…was and is always present. At present, past and a past present, both distinctly different from the present prospect of the past degenerating already into a future prospect which will never be. Suffer that. Being prey to anxiety, nostalgia and hope…. to attain from time to time the absolute serenity of a perception of timelessness, a state of lack of perception of time; to fuse together some brief fragments of eternity, we can perceive on this side of life, through a glass darkly. Though eventually will perceive with crystal clarity, in sharp focus. Simulators. Emulators. I keep bumpin’ intae mysel. That’s just the point. Around the bend. It’s not the end. Sons of fear and sorrow, will you cheer tomorrow? Sons of toil and danger, will you serve a stranger? A new beginning, never ending. Still sometimes I feel so low that I want tae “top mysel.” But I will go on. God is ma strength. He is ma Salvation. The only Way, The Truth and The Life. Love. Always was and always will be. HE IS.
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Feb 18, 2024
Feb 18, 2024 at 8:27 AM UTC
Overly Loquacious Idea Salad (This Salad contains an adequate serving of moral ruffige)
****** by 7 Circuitry sizzling now bless My sight with fractals and a misread message A step withheld in my ongoing Prosecution of the self resting headless without a leg to Stand up for myself when I can't remember what I've Dreamed this month, it's Breaking across these mental Walls, as far as the eye's can Tell a story, and reveal as well as hide From one's conjured enemies. Shiver. These silver sided dice roll Like the spies sent to hinder my Will to save you. I will save you. As I save myself. the last morsel Of forged laurels.
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Aug 23, 2021
Aug 23, 2021 at 8:02 PM UTC
How 2 think, for dummies.
In a wordy battle with trivial dogmatic mentalities , I win by sandwiching my perspectives between my upper lip tubercle and lower lip tubercle.
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Oct 10, 2020
Oct 10, 2020 at 7:37 PM UTC
Untitled ( 28 )
**Words ,they were never mine Nor ,did they ever mind When ,used them For the thoughts confined Words , Belong to the ones Who invented them There is no belonging , In 'There' A privilege that is theirs And 'Their' , alone to belong Meanings they hold yes , With each other they differ In dictionaries you'd find Words never flock together Separate Entities , As Dignitaries They stand , Grand Thoughts are the ones Ours , we can Proclaim In words , one can Reclaim**
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Jan 7, 2018
Jan 7, 2018 at 5:32 AM UTC
Wordy
The breeze in the air is redolent And the heart gambols with glee To the tintinnabulation of wind chimes Ah, what sweet felicity. The whispering of trees is mellifluous As is the susurrous of floral woods How salubrious is the efflorescence Beside the ebullient babbling brook. Old man winter is but fugacious For I've stumbled upon my inglenook I wake to the breath of spring Oh, it's summer eternal in my book. My cup now holds ethereal elixir It's manna from the heavens above I found you - ah, serendipity If this isn't, then what is love?
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Jan 3, 2018
Jan 3, 2018 at 10:29 AM UTC
And this too is Love - Loquacious
*A word from noone Means nothing at all But a word from someone Of significance Is more harmonized than the angels’ song and more beautiful than the most heartfelt verse to ruminate within the soul*
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Nov 16, 2017
Nov 16, 2017 at 10:37 AM UTC
Significance
within twenty first century promotion sans scientific paradigm dogmatically hefty, kinetically lofty, and poetically thoroughly, xyz beliefs misalign wherein mechanistic Ptolemaic, static venerated yin yang benign choreography describing elementary forces governing heavens inviting jinxed, kooky, loopy measures necessitating pacific rectification to guarantee spatial objects remain in line which notions trotted out a cosmic deal with invisble ink omnipresent, omniscient omnipotent benevolent creator link synonymously afffixed terrestrial firmament (planet Earth) nsync with bedrock of deified Gibraltor until undisputed supposedly figuratively hermetically sealed fostered religious (church) fathers to do more than blink when inquisitive minds (undaunted though invoked as heretical martyrs) blaspheming solidly entrenched blind faith functioning with charm mingly quaint association with amulets, churinga, equisite fetishisms guiding humanity innumerable journeys kickstarting legendary modus operandi initially harm less lee sounding out, what manifested into a schismatic alarm regarding millennial questions underming liturgical moorings strong lance heaving arm irrevocably toppled geocentric mindset, nonetheless this oblate spheroid dance sing with the stars redoubled devout hangers-on fixed with barnacle cleaving devotion stalwart stance Page Number Two: populace behooved (as would be expected), when Douting Thomas' revolutionary screeds threatened (prior to unending) univeral schema just by chance and despite proclamations pronounciations, and provocations roiling status quo hashtagged as evil rants eventually zealous warfare between growing heliocentric individuals with sacrilegiously blatantly deranged fiendishly gnarly heathens – perhaps the Renaissance own Timothy Leary the dawn of a quantifiable, explainable theory (minus all those concentric embedded orbital paths) diktat preachers eventually became weary to challenge recalcitrant (purported hell raisers) **** I would have fit right in as a rebel rouser) whereby agents provocateurs spout vestigial claim to Gaea remaining front and center of galaxy on par clubbing with Mother Mary.
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Oct 27, 2017
Oct 27, 2017 at 11:22 PM UTC
existentialism emancipation flourishes amidst blind faith dogmatism
within twenty first century promotion sans scientific paradigm dogmatically hefty, kinetically lofty, and poetically thoroughly, xyz beliefs misalign wherein mechanistic Ptolemaic, static venerated yin yang benign choreography describing elementary forces governing heavens inviting jinxed, kooky, loopy measures necessitating pacific rectification to guarantee spatial objects remain in line which notions trotted out a cosmic deal with invisble ink omnipresent, omniscient omnipotent benevolent creator link synonymously afffixed terrestrial firmament (planet Earth) nsync with bedrock of deified Gibraltor until undisputed supposedly figuratively hermetically sealed fostered religious (church) fathers to do more than blink when inquisitive minds (undaunted though invoked as heretical martyrs) blaspheming solidly entrenched blind faith functioning with charm mingly quaint association with amulets, churinga, equisite fetishisms guiding humanity innumerable journeys kickstarting legendary modus operandi initially harm less lee sounding out, what manifested into a schismatic alarm regarding millennial questions underming liturgical moorings strong lance heaving arm irrevocably toppled geocentric mindset, nonetheless this oblate spheroid dance sing with the stars redoubled devout hangers-on fixed with barnacle cleaving devotion stalwart stance Page Number Two: populace behooved (as would be expected), when Douting Thomas' revolutionary screeds threatened (prior to unending) univeral schema just by chance and despite proclamations pronounciations, and provocations roiling status quo hashtagged as evil rants eventually zealous warfare between growing heliocentric individuals with sacrilegiously blatantly deranged fiendishly gnarly heathens – perhaps the Renaissance own Timothy Leary the dawn of a quantifiable, explainable theory (minus all those concentric embedded orbital paths) diktat preachers eventually became weary to challenge recalcitrant (purported hell raisers) **** I would have fit right in as a rebel rouser) whereby agents provocateurs spout vestigial claim to Gaea remaining front and center of galaxy on par clubbing with Mother Mary.
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I'm such a sucker for over explanatory wordy titles there's no fall out.
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Sep 18, 2016
Sep 18, 2016 at 4:24 PM UTC
Meh.
At this point it may not even Be a poem, Just too many intends in a too Wordy sentence, But it doesnt matter what it Is, because all I Want to get across is that I love you.
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Nov 21, 2015
Nov 21, 2015 at 3:43 AM UTC
Ceasing To Be Ourselves
It's an asset to be taciturn, Reticent, laconic, terse, And to the point. I consider myself such, So listen... Do I have a story for you. It was a dark and stormy night; The wind howled destruction Coming across...
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Aug 27, 2015
Aug 27, 2015 at 10:39 AM UTC
Keep It Short, Caller
Be Not Bitter in Thine Writings, for They Be Most Wondrous Things; Catacombious Monstrocities, Though You May'st Conceive Them. Words Stray'd and Pluck'd into Near-Woven Dressings, Gone Fade with Thine Temperament— These Things that You Shrug and Forget!— Shall ****** Adventures unto the Intrepid, Kind Caretakers as yet Unknown to These Days.
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Nov 8, 2011
Nov 8, 2011 at 2:20 AM UTC
Be Not Bitter in Thine Writings
sometimes, late at night i lie awake, or sit, or even dance i do not "sleep" i might drowse, or snooze, but only temporary reprive- The Dark holds its monsters and pattering, clawed steps outside of my candlelit chambers and beyond the fragile makebelieve walls of my lurking consciousness- light a candle. burn the Night. Smolder your eyes upon the smoke banish my fears, faint light- but do not destroy my peace- morning Light, cast not your hands over this black scry-stone! Look but so gently into the Dark's swirling and staring stars down upon a ritual laid bare- agate eyes upon the crown upon the head of the young Oracle a story for another time, a prayer for a beating heart in another place, another darkened midnight womb or perhaps an obsidian tomb--. fill a chalice and not a mind tip the contents to then find a wandering flame spread to the wind devouring those violent souls that have sinned as such, topics change like Gaia dear, as such my mind roams when I cower in fear--. in the imaginary arms of a man I love, the one who can't be near. Night sings a quiet song of insane love and gentle terror, a soft-soft sound that rings eternal and lulls its listener not to sleep but into a spell that gathers deep within the core of the mind behind the third, before the eye, but loud and deafening guilt that keeps the shade-drawn witch awake, and the quivering fear racing in their youthful heart--. Ladle the light of the stars above into the cupped hands tonight and sing the damnation back to the groping clouds on the black horizon, the violet and blue and grey and white swirling in cohesion and roaring into a wave of conscious nightmares i cannot deal with these thoughts on my mind, resting upon my heart my eyes my mind my very soul.
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May 12, 2014
May 12, 2014 at 2:34 PM UTC
..(untitled)
sometimes, late at night i lie awake, or sit, or even dance i do not "sleep" i might drowse, or snooze, but only temporary reprive- The Dark holds its monsters and pattering, clawed steps outside of my candlelit chambers and beyond the fragile makebelieve walls of my lurking consciousness- light a candle. burn the Night. Smolder your eyes upon the smoke banish my fears, faint light- but do not destroy my peace- morning Light, cast not your hands over this black scry-stone! Look but so gently into the Dark's swirling and staring stars down upon a ritual laid bare- agate eyes upon the crown upon the head of the young Oracle a story for another time, a prayer for a beating heart in another place, another darkened midnight womb or perhaps an obsidian tomb--. fill a chalice and not a mind tip the contents to then find a wandering flame spread to the wind devouring those violent souls that have sinned as such, topics change like Gaia dear, as such my mind roams when I cower in fear--. in the imaginary arms of a man I love, the one who can't be near. Night sings a quiet song of insane love and gentle terror, a soft-soft sound that rings eternal and lulls its listener not to sleep but into a spell that gathers deep within the core of the mind behind the third, before the eye, but loud and deafening guilt that keeps the shade-drawn witch awake, and the quivering fear racing in their youthful heart--. Ladle the light of the stars above into the cupped hands tonight and sing the damnation back to the groping clouds on the black horizon, the violet and blue and grey and white swirling in cohesion and roaring into a wave of conscious nightmares i cannot deal with these thoughts on my mind, resting upon my heart my eyes my mind my very soul.
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