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"accelerating" poems
Your electricity flows out of your fingertips shocking me and making me feel energy in places I didn't know it could reside. Lightning jump starts my heart and sends a current through my body, accelerating my breathing and fueling my desires. Impulses fire in my brain rewiring my thoughts and I can only compare it to crawling in to bed with the thought of Christmas morning in the middle of June. Your fingers send jolts through my nerve endings and power surges through my hair, making it stand on end. They feel like cigarette burns on bare flesh and I can't help but cringe at how much I enjoy it.
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Aug 7, 2014
Aug 7, 2014 at 10:48 AM UTC
you vs. electricity
Feathers glimmer and shine As though covered in fish oil I lubricate the brain As I slip through the sky With a frictionless flicker My lightening wings Brain waves rapidly fluctuate Perfect balance held Between left and right Each wing a hemisphere As they beat and beat Accelerating into hyper speed 80 to a hundred or more Beats per second As though injected With a sonic speed Synapses bursting and exploding Exponentially connecting Blistering wing speed I become electric My circuits exploring Rippling and flickering through paper My brain comes alive Flashing multicolored lights Like the cities nights But still spaces collect around me As I am buffered from the world Perfectly still though standing On an invisible ledge I hold my mind in place While I hum in space Head down I drop my beak Into a funnel of concentration As I tunnel into trumpets Penetrating deep I flower   In new knowledge Polar aspects of mind Released through coherent communication Set free with coordination I seek to marry chalk and cheese As I hold the balance Between two worlds Flashing synapses firing And combusting Against pointed concentration My mind juggles two ***** Expanding into their fullness Expressing vibrant color My slippery slender beak Slips and slides in As I flutter through pages I discover new unexpected surprises Problems solved, Startling adventures And puzzles completed I find the sugary syrup The delicate delicious sweet spot With the thrill of falling domino's Spilling and cascading Many ripples fanning out Through my mind   I find freedom Each ripple massaging my mind I am catapulted into outer space I dance from fact to golden fact   As I am propelled forward on stardust My momentum shoots me forward I bounce and bounce My mind becoming unbounded   I enjoy this great Hummingbird delight
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Dec 18, 2014
Dec 18, 2014 at 1:05 PM UTC
HUMMINGBIRD LIBERATING MIND
Feathers glimmer and shine As though covered in fish oil I lubricate the brain As I slip through the sky With a frictionless flicker My lightening wings Brain waves rapidly fluctuate Perfect balance held Between left and right Each wing a hemisphere As they beat and beat Accelerating into hyper speed 80 to a hundred or more Beats per second As though injected With a sonic speed Synapses bursting and exploding Exponentially connecting Blistering wing speed I become electric My circuits exploring Rippling and flickering through paper My brain comes alive Flashing multicolored lights Like the cities nights But still spaces collect around me As I am buffered from the world Perfectly still though standing On an invisible ledge I hold my mind in place While I hum in space Head down I drop my beak Into a funnel of concentration As I tunnel into trumpets Penetrating deep I flower   In new knowledge Polar aspects of mind Released through coherent communication Set free with coordination I seek to marry chalk and cheese As I hold the balance Between two worlds Flashing synapses firing And combusting Against pointed concentration My mind juggles two ***** Expanding into their fullness Expressing vibrant color My slippery slender beak Slips and slides in As I flutter through pages I discover new unexpected surprises Problems solved, Startling adventures And puzzles completed I find the sugary syrup The delicate delicious sweet spot With the thrill of falling domino's Spilling and cascading Many ripples fanning out Through my mind   I find freedom Each ripple massaging my mind I am catapulted into outer space I dance from fact to golden fact   As I am propelled forward on stardust My momentum shoots me forward I bounce and bounce My mind becoming unbounded   I enjoy this great Hummingbird delight
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69
Far on a lunatic sea, filled with tranquility and serenity, love and devotion, some flowers have made it their goal to bloom in purity, Innocent looking, sweet and with a scent from amongst the heavens, Tricking their foolish, mindless pray to come closer to them while seeping in spite and hatred, longing for revenge for their reflection, A soft breeze accompanies the starlit sky, transient moonlight lurks through in a ghastly, bluish horizon as it rises to claim the heavens for his own once he had reached its fullest phase, ahh those phantoms, Gone mad through a night full of punishment and bloodshed, Before the petals can scatter in a dawning sky they seek for an intent, Finally an attempt would be able to be made, a pity human draws near, weeping in sorrow and grief, causing them to shake excitedly As then their roots would rush out of the ground and imprison him, Twisted illusion of diversion, as they pierce through skin and bones, dragging his struggling, flailing body underground,remaining unseen Feeding on his blood, using his corpse as a fertiliser they stay pure, Moved for one instant, they dive deeper into the soil of this landscape Hatred twines around them, causing disturbance in their memories, It is alike to be left in an accelerating world of recurrance, everlasting, Until the sunrise has dyed the sky in red and everything replicates ~ Umi
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Mar 19, 2018
Mar 19, 2018 at 8:43 AM UTC
Lilies of Murderous Intent
The sounding alarm starts the frenzy I hurry myself to shower and dress Slowing just for a moment To strategically place fragrant surprises For later explorations. Accelerating with all urgency I weave through the blockade of traffic Risking it all to preserve Each second, each minute, every moment of time For my waiting infatuation Flushes of excitement consume me As I near my destination I am overwhelmed with pulsating urges As I search for a way to impress you Show advanced appreciation Welcomed with a sensual eagerness Each of us knowing and wanting I ask "Can I play you a tune?" A Love song plays to a faintness As you bring me to satisfaction Then, Ascending to kiss me softly You wish me a good day at work. Wiping excess from your chin You smile and say "See you tomorrow." © Tina Thompson
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Feb 16, 2012
Feb 16, 2012 at 2:46 PM UTC
Morning's Past
If my velocity is negative on paper, am I going the wrong direction? If I am accelerating in the opposite direction of my destination, (if I slow down I mean), is it good or bad? How about when a train is positively speeding at a high velocity towards me accelerating positively in my direction Do I run?
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Dec 21, 2015
Dec 21, 2015 at 11:21 AM UTC
Newtonian Physics
anxiety is a flood it comes in slowly but suddenly drowning  me it is a constant tapping pencil beating in an irregular beat frantically accelerating in speed it is a small room filled with boisterous people gradually engulfing me anxiety is a breath of fresh air refreshing  as I take a breath in satisfaction as I exhale
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Apr 2, 2014
Apr 2, 2014 at 1:28 PM UTC
Anxiety Metaphor Poem
Spines curve as sweetly as drops from a honeysuckle Notes in a melody fill the void spaces Gentle rushes stir like the swish of rustling leaves Flushed as red as the cherry who’s stem is knotted Time stolen from the hands of a frozen clock- Still like snow fallen from a winter shower Senses fully awaken to chase alluring aromas   Repetitive jolts of candied sin trickle throughout the body Electric flow in the veins sparks an extended invitation Contagious appetite will mirror aches of desire Surges of shock in the body join the mind and soul Accelerating spikes in heart rate kiss private secrets Boundless longing branded to one another Yearning indulged by limitless exchanges of energy- Transfers immune from harm Pressure from oneness loosens the tremble in pleading breaths Hands close around each hip to clench their hollows Credible fingers drenched in admiration coat mingled skin One is composed by the gravitation of two Defying moonlight to surrender at an immeasurable ****** Reaching for the highest point to let go Sharing traces of untamed wind with soaring wings Collecting innocence altered by ecstasy Choosing vulnerability to expose what cannot be said Fantasies traded through the rhythm of touch
0
Oct 28, 2018
Oct 28, 2018 at 10:21 AM UTC
I wake your senses to remind you that you wake mine
I see Beauty in a ********** Whose feelings you cannot convolute. I see a Businesswoman in a ********** A **** with brains, destitute she made a business plan. At least she did business studies and accounting at school, sells her body to earn, A living. I see a princess in a ********** because no man can resist her. You know when she starts curling her hair Even Pastors ********** then we bring the Saints Holiness into debate. Have you ever seen a ********** aspirate "I want you" ? **** Her voice alone gives ****** healing, Arouses ****** feelings, Pumps vessels, frightened by the spark in her eyes, hormone adrenalin give your heart rate a fast accelerating beatings. I see charisma in a ********** Married men,leave their wives in bed and creep to the streets corner just to cuddle with prostitutes, it was I who said, there's beauty in a ********** I see Beauty in a ********** I've seen Loyalty in a ********** Yes I did. How? What do I mean? Because she ***** all men in the same manner and charge them all the identical amount. That is Loyalty man. I said, I see Beauty in a ********** and I wasn't lying. There is Beauty in a ********** The Beauty that makes Preachers at church retire, The Beauty that make married men divorce, The Beauty that makes Jay Z forget Beyonce, The Beauty that makes Julius Malema forgets his political position The Beauty that makes Jesus Christ want to come back, to save his descendants from sin. The Beauty of a ********** Men have seen it.
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Aug 14, 2015
Aug 14, 2015 at 8:53 PM UTC
I See Beauty In A **********
I see Beauty in a ********** Whose feelings you cannot convolute. I see a Businesswoman in a ********** A **** with brains, destitute she made a business plan. At least she did business studies and accounting at school, sells her body to earn, A living. I see a princess in a ********** because no man can resist her. You know when she starts curling her hair Even Pastors ********** then we bring the Saints Holiness into debate. Have you ever seen a ********** aspirate "I want you" ? **** Her voice alone gives ****** healing, Arouses ****** feelings, Pumps vessels, frightened by the spark in her eyes, hormone adrenalin give your heart rate a fast accelerating beatings. I see charisma in a ********** Married men,leave their wives in bed and creep to the streets corner just to cuddle with prostitutes, it was I who said, there's beauty in a ********** I see Beauty in a ********** I've seen Loyalty in a ********** Yes I did. How? What do I mean? Because she ***** all men in the same manner and charge them all the identical amount. That is Loyalty man. I said, I see Beauty in a ********** and I wasn't lying. There is Beauty in a ********** The Beauty that makes Preachers at church retire, The Beauty that make married men divorce, The Beauty that makes Jay Z forget Beyonce, The Beauty that makes Julius Malema forgets his political position The Beauty that makes Jesus Christ want to come back, to save his descendants from sin. The Beauty of a ********** Men have seen it.
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44
You earnestly plea with precious time to slow down just a bit So you can accomplish more in your day Holding tightly to his swinging hands in desperation To place another second into play Your attempts to slow him down he finds quite endearing Smiling at you from his spinning face Wondering if you even recall your pleas of yesterday Crying that his hands were stuck in place Precious time seems to always swiftly fly right past you When you find you are running late His hands are spinning round, faster and faster Accelerating more, if you hesitate Precious time slows for no one, nor does he accelerate He passes by us constantly, the same Laughing at all the fickle faces there, staring at his hands Which not a one of them, is able, to tame
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Aug 23, 2010
Aug 23, 2010 at 7:13 AM UTC
Precious Time
With a raffling breath I sate death neatly I am now in trust Dead And being played into new life There's a swelling of new strifes and wavings from within Heats of organisms Worlds accelerating Pulsion Gases waste and gases invitations take place where I have been A celebration A bedding If only The Humans would leave the 'Dead Body' be Just when I am finally achieved They make a bother I'll make out a doner card No, a placard "No Preservation Upon Death ! Corpse Rights Remain !"
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Aug 20, 2018
Aug 20, 2018 at 11:03 PM UTC
Placard
Above my home where the dark clouds curl into the sky clinging for a home to rest their sleepy depiction, shadowed trees hum sweet lullabies, lonely leaves breathe in the sad song of fallen dimensions, letting its lifeless view roll upon their frame, the chilled breeze sailing in the skyline, as I scramble my way out of a filthy dumpster, a mountain of disintegrating mess covering my broken body, hovering flies surrounding sticky strips of spaghetti, moldy mashed potatoes, and moldy chicken *** pies, while my mind sunk into traveled thoughts, bruised hands pressed against the creases in my forehead, allowing my existence to feel the stranded scars streaming in various mazes, dull eyes flushed with a burning disorder, aching cheeks and chests nestled in darkening chamber corners, buried hips and thighs uprooting in somber blades of grass, thorned, torn, and destroyed in different worlds.  As I stood on the slippery pavement staring at the ruffled scenery in my sight, spinning streetlights thickening into slouched positions, screaming sidewalks spilling sadness and madness in the drenched air, razor-edged buildings inching into crushed centimeters, jumbled meters, ****** yards.  I replayed the sober images in my head, the way my young brown-skinned mom said I would never amount to anything, how I could hear the raged noun ****** sift into the distance, its flaming mechanics accelerating into screeching sounds, the way she hurled her fists at my smashed face, every vibrant language breaking apart, slamming shut into closed infinites, snagged contractions and gerunds diverging into shuddering double spaced negatives, the way she threw my lingering body inside the trash dumpster, her sharp scarlet words, You are no son of mine, ricocheting off savage surfaces, sparking my soul in a calamity of choking diction.
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Aug 8, 2018
Aug 8, 2018 at 1:04 PM UTC
You Are No Son Of Mine
Above my home where the dark clouds curl into the sky clinging for a home to rest their sleepy depiction, shadowed trees hum sweet lullabies, lonely leaves breathe in the sad song of fallen dimensions, letting its lifeless view roll upon their frame, the chilled breeze sailing in the skyline, as I scramble my way out of a filthy dumpster, a mountain of disintegrating mess covering my broken body, hovering flies surrounding sticky strips of spaghetti, moldy mashed potatoes, and moldy chicken *** pies, while my mind sunk into traveled thoughts, bruised hands pressed against the creases in my forehead, allowing my existence to feel the stranded scars streaming in various mazes, dull eyes flushed with a burning disorder, aching cheeks and chests nestled in darkening chamber corners, buried hips and thighs uprooting in somber blades of grass, thorned, torn, and destroyed in different worlds.  As I stood on the slippery pavement staring at the ruffled scenery in my sight, spinning streetlights thickening into slouched positions, screaming sidewalks spilling sadness and madness in the drenched air, razor-edged buildings inching into crushed centimeters, jumbled meters, ****** yards.  I replayed the sober images in my head, the way my young brown-skinned mom said I would never amount to anything, how I could hear the raged noun ****** sift into the distance, its flaming mechanics accelerating into screeching sounds, the way she hurled her fists at my smashed face, every vibrant language breaking apart, slamming shut into closed infinites, snagged contractions and gerunds diverging into shuddering double spaced negatives, the way she threw my lingering body inside the trash dumpster, her sharp scarlet words, You are no son of mine, ricocheting off savage surfaces, sparking my soul in a calamity of choking diction.
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36
I hear the weeping of a motherless child My conscience is clear, my awareness defiled Global warming, melting icecaps, disappearing bees All these different threats of our accelerating entropy By the recklessness of our desires our species is driven We ignore matter of fact, and scientific proof given Green behind the shadow, peace behind the fist Greed behind the reason for the evidence we dismiss So allow yourselves to experience this uneasiness of mind, The dread that holds us fast, cause it's our species on the line...
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Jun 1, 2013
Jun 1, 2013 at 9:36 AM UTC
POIESIS FROM ENTROPY
Off that windy bay wharf, where old poets speak to lost walkers, you dove into aporia Morality the highest myth dreaming conquered by Capital shelter replaced by property the immaterial, theft by sophistry a bay carved from jade, crescent moon. horizon cradling distant storms waves upon waves accelerating towards the shore.
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Aug 21, 2017
Aug 21, 2017 at 1:03 AM UTC
Don't talk about Politics
The drummer of my heart Pumps me into being My very blood dances to the beat The drummer of my heart Turns the silence into music As my essence glides across those sticks The drummer of my heart Keeps time with my joy Happily beating fear into submission The drummer of my heart Makes me race in excitement Accelerating and elevating my love The drummer of my heart Plays the stars as his drum set And is the very rhythm of my soul
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Dec 28, 2014
Dec 28, 2014 at 7:10 AM UTC
The Rhythm of my Soul
Words drift, past the pages and recollection. Some skip just above a stream of consciousness. Others hurdle by, accelerating into shapelessness. A fisherman of thought. Praying the last of his bait, feeds him, just another day. As the days blend together, and the current thrashes on, hope is a face on the water. He’s filled his belly with persistence, but the need for creation lives on. Cast the line. Spin the rhyme. Feast on the dreams of tomorrow.
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Nov 6, 2019
Nov 6, 2019 at 6:19 PM UTC
The Fisherman
What a gorgeous night to ride, the temperature’s just right. Jeans an "T" and a leather vest, are quite suitable tonight. I walk out, get on my bike. Turn the key; switch on headlight. Push the button; start her up. Set aside my coffee cup. Sitting on my steed of steel. The road ahead has much appeal. The air feels good as I ride out. Great night to ride without a doubt. Twisting on my throttle grip, into traffic now I slip. My headlight shines on lines of white. This road, this bike, both feel so right. Accelerating past some cars, stopping at some smaller bars. Grab a burger and some fries. Lets move on my buddy cries. So many places I've not seen. Come on lets ride! Know what I mean? We've turns to make and, roads to cross, Lets keep ridding until we're lost. We keep on riding through the night, Much to soon comes morning's light. Our eyes now heavy needing sleep. The highways call will for now keep.
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Mar 7, 2013
Mar 7, 2013 at 9:41 PM UTC
Night Ride
My configuration is accelerating Off balance with the earth's core Dissatisfied, I try to be still My form is hyper and energetic Loud and obnoxious Mistaken and exaggerated for being cruel I only seek to harness similarities To stand grandly, instead I appear egotistical with low self-esteem Contradicting, no way to make sense This is a normal place Disconnected, I try to behave Social skill are at low percentage Sitting, I embrace the heckling one hand on heart and the other on mind, In hopes to intertwine Take control, define the soul Combine me into a whole Let standards go Carrying a presence of a mild wind breeze Never nearing nor ending
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May 12, 2016
May 12, 2016 at 6:21 PM UTC
Combining
The wheel clinched tight Fingers numb and white Hyperventilating Counting to ten Anxieties curse Mind, a devine quality Over.... Thinking A flash of death as her passengers lay lifeless Death She pictures faces A ****** mess Stillness Everyone sits singing and unblemished A true definition of mangled point of view A routine her mind has provided Someone else hits the petal accelerating She is familiar with picturing the world dying She is now stamped with, "I'm part of the ****** up society" Stay clear She is endearing The tea cup world believes she is dangerous
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Jun 12, 2016
Jun 12, 2016 at 12:16 AM UTC
A beautiful drive
The morning cigarette, With a cup of igneous coffee, On an early winter morning, Alleviates the morning high, Like the smoke from molten lava. The immature ride to the vacant highway, The zephyr gust from the near mountains, Touches the juvenile jacket And through the quietus of nature, The wings inside sails away. The green undertone of cannabis, It's a rational sensation, With every roll the paper silhouettes, Like a shotgun of peace, The buds displace on the white face. The rejuvenating smoke calibrates, Through the dry pipes, And layers the ravenous soul, Like a honey bee, Pouring the golden sugar, Into the barren depth of an empty bowl. Like a centaur with tenacious wings, Accelerating with the air, Feeling every loop of a fresh wound, Riding from north, And taking the fear out, Like a first raindrop to hit the ground.
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Dec 19, 2015
Dec 19, 2015 at 2:21 AM UTC
The Morning Cigarette
Today I savored my own killing I could've done so at the twilight of my days while I dose off on a creaking rocking chair my old lean limbs entangling down my crooked joints melded to the arm rests my heavy head resting on my collarbone oblivious as I mercifully approach from the back gently stepping on the tube leading oxygen to my dying body watching as my breath become heavy as my blocked throat wheeze in exhaustion as my stressed lungs finally collapse as I quietly yield to sleep. I  could've done so sometime tomorrow or yesterday As I lay asleep on my back snoring as usual in an instant I'll roll over and be on top of myself clasping at my mouth and nose pressing my full body weight as I jolt awake, panicked and confused my arm randomly flailing around torn prayer flags swooped by a hurricane my fingers digging into the flesh of my arms attempting to pull me apart until finally my stubborn grip overcomes and defeated I dim onto stillness save for a twitch here or there. I chose to do so in my youth as the texture of a heavy rope grazes and bruises the skin on my neck while I send a chilling smile at myself from across the room pulling a handle that drops the floor beneath my feet accelerating for the first time relishing the hissing air the absence of gravity catching with my eyes my penetrating gaze older than I am full of grief, fatigue, and divination cut by the cracking rope torn like my snapped neck with a hallow sound much less revolting than I thought watch me dangling like a ragged pendulum a grotesque puppet an unripe miscarriage feeling but a slight pinch of regret for never knowing this moment
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Nov 23, 2018
Nov 23, 2018 at 11:36 AM UTC
Today I savored my own killing
Today I savored my own killing I could've done so at the twilight of my days while I dose off on a creaking rocking chair my old lean limbs entangling down my crooked joints melded to the arm rests my heavy head resting on my collarbone oblivious as I mercifully approach from the back gently stepping on the tube leading oxygen to my dying body watching as my breath become heavy as my blocked throat wheeze in exhaustion as my stressed lungs finally collapse as I quietly yield to sleep. I  could've done so sometime tomorrow or yesterday As I lay asleep on my back snoring as usual in an instant I'll roll over and be on top of myself clasping at my mouth and nose pressing my full body weight as I jolt awake, panicked and confused my arm randomly flailing around torn prayer flags swooped by a hurricane my fingers digging into the flesh of my arms attempting to pull me apart until finally my stubborn grip overcomes and defeated I dim onto stillness save for a twitch here or there. I chose to do so in my youth as the texture of a heavy rope grazes and bruises the skin on my neck while I send a chilling smile at myself from across the room pulling a handle that drops the floor beneath my feet accelerating for the first time relishing the hissing air the absence of gravity catching with my eyes my penetrating gaze older than I am full of grief, fatigue, and divination cut by the cracking rope torn like my snapped neck with a hallow sound much less revolting than I thought watch me dangling like a ragged pendulum a grotesque puppet an unripe miscarriage feeling but a slight pinch of regret for never knowing this moment
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59
The greater the revelation the deeper the mystery The closer to the light the dimmer and further it is But compelled and captive, propelled not by will Accelerating into the void, a star amongst many Each and all inexorably to be our very own Destiny
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Aug 10, 2021
Aug 10, 2021 at 11:58 PM UTC
Destiny
I like accelerating As fast as it can get there (Because even if it is a Saab, It's still a sports car) I like accelerating in the fog Pressing forward into the unknown darkness Past the hanging anglerfish lure On every street lamp I like to think Keats would like it (Driving fast in the dark where you know There's no speed traps) And I like the word "like" in poetry Because love on the page means something so Different from what I mean (It's a word that I don't want you associating with me) Unless you're here to cast me as your Last Duchess because I love you as much as I love driving in the dark as much as I love this song as much as I love your shoes and I love your eyes (but I really do love your eyes) So I don't like the word "love" because it Implies some kind of favoritism that I'm not Willing to give you if it means I only like this song Means using that word all wrong Because you're not better than my Saab- (you just have nicer eyes)
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Apr 3, 2013
Apr 3, 2013 at 6:08 PM UTC
every glowing thing
How you mesmerize How you mimic the seasonal calm And quietude of the restless ocean How you bow in concentration To arch your absorbent nature And rapture in a cosmetic smile that Swallows like a whirl pool How you carry the gravitation field And the forces that pull and bind How you repel sadness and sorrow In all faces and brighten some gloomy soul How you set the stage for colorful dreams And some “sweetistic” imaginations How you define beauty in high definition A creature of absolutely amazing design Turning a ghostly atmosphere of earth Into a haze of bliss and paradise scenic Wafting some breeze of glory Refreshing souls lost the inferno beneath How you dim audacious eye gaze By the razor of your eyes that pierce How you outshine daylight and light Outsmarting the very phrase neat and tidy You’re the best and not the rest without debut It’s why they find no rest and burst for you How you dazzle and outwit Injecting madness in minds active Accelerating the speed of hormones Beyond light or supersonic speed Desire giving way to passion sway And the vocal chords automated confess it How you **** and make alive When you put it short and tight And the fabric can’t bear it a moment Reproducing a perfect figurine clone of yours As though you would burst out from it Electrify and sizzle hearts inflamed That’s how you mesmerize me Walk no more in my sight her highness How you catch my eye miss sacred And reign enthroned in my frontal lobe How you consume my thinkative energy And gear on the driving seat of my life
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Feb 1, 2012
Feb 1, 2012 at 8:10 AM UTC
How you mesmerize
How you mesmerize How you mimic the seasonal calm And quietude of the restless ocean How you bow in concentration To arch your absorbent nature And rapture in a cosmetic smile that Swallows like a whirl pool How you carry the gravitation field And the forces that pull and bind How you repel sadness and sorrow In all faces and brighten some gloomy soul How you set the stage for colorful dreams And some “sweetistic” imaginations How you define beauty in high definition A creature of absolutely amazing design Turning a ghostly atmosphere of earth Into a haze of bliss and paradise scenic Wafting some breeze of glory Refreshing souls lost the inferno beneath How you dim audacious eye gaze By the razor of your eyes that pierce How you outshine daylight and light Outsmarting the very phrase neat and tidy You’re the best and not the rest without debut It’s why they find no rest and burst for you How you dazzle and outwit Injecting madness in minds active Accelerating the speed of hormones Beyond light or supersonic speed Desire giving way to passion sway And the vocal chords automated confess it How you **** and make alive When you put it short and tight And the fabric can’t bear it a moment Reproducing a perfect figurine clone of yours As though you would burst out from it Electrify and sizzle hearts inflamed That’s how you mesmerize me Walk no more in my sight her highness How you catch my eye miss sacred And reign enthroned in my frontal lobe How you consume my thinkative energy And gear on the driving seat of my life
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43
his voice echoes continuously through my mind repeating those same fluid words like ripples on the surface of an endless pool of water again and again. That same photographic memory of four beautiful seconds filled with brilliance and easy laughter is in high definition playing on an endless loop. It tears away every outside thought, accelerating and building in a crescendo driving out the rest of the world. his gaze sweeps over me in its path around the room and evanescent as it is, it causes my heart to flutter, threatening to fly away I'm left with an image branded on my mind of eyes the color of antique coke bottles Those kind eyes begin to take on a menacing edge in my memory piercing deep into me and allowing intense insecurity and admiration to flood in as i recall the treasures behind them Like most artists, he has no clue that he's an incredible writer but, as the days pass by in class we start to let him in on the secret yet, he still refuses to accept it his sweet, shy smile always talks down his brilliance, clouding his depth like he almost fears his own words That expression of near embarrassment when people enjoy his work, mixed with the thought that he's so incredible tears me up and i strive to measure up while he simply shrugs it off, almost unaware of his excellence like he's staring into a ***** mirror I find myself thinking about it in bed at night when the rest of my anxieties team up to press me under the day in a deep, wildly-colored sleep When the morning finds me and the sun pulls me back to Earth I stretch out my arms and draw in the fresh scent of the new day but as i fall into my usual routine, the memories and insecurities and inferiorities creep up to the surface of my thoughts and I wonder if I'll ever move past this stage, listening and admiring from afar Suddenly an idea strikes me and i press my pen to my paper using his medium to release what I've held in so long
0
Jan 3, 2013
Jan 3, 2013 at 9:56 PM UTC
The Creeper Poem
his voice echoes continuously through my mind repeating those same fluid words like ripples on the surface of an endless pool of water again and again. That same photographic memory of four beautiful seconds filled with brilliance and easy laughter is in high definition playing on an endless loop. It tears away every outside thought, accelerating and building in a crescendo driving out the rest of the world. his gaze sweeps over me in its path around the room and evanescent as it is, it causes my heart to flutter, threatening to fly away I'm left with an image branded on my mind of eyes the color of antique coke bottles Those kind eyes begin to take on a menacing edge in my memory piercing deep into me and allowing intense insecurity and admiration to flood in as i recall the treasures behind them Like most artists, he has no clue that he's an incredible writer but, as the days pass by in class we start to let him in on the secret yet, he still refuses to accept it his sweet, shy smile always talks down his brilliance, clouding his depth like he almost fears his own words That expression of near embarrassment when people enjoy his work, mixed with the thought that he's so incredible tears me up and i strive to measure up while he simply shrugs it off, almost unaware of his excellence like he's staring into a ***** mirror I find myself thinking about it in bed at night when the rest of my anxieties team up to press me under the day in a deep, wildly-colored sleep When the morning finds me and the sun pulls me back to Earth I stretch out my arms and draw in the fresh scent of the new day but as i fall into my usual routine, the memories and insecurities and inferiorities creep up to the surface of my thoughts and I wonder if I'll ever move past this stage, listening and admiring from afar Suddenly an idea strikes me and i press my pen to my paper using his medium to release what I've held in so long
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An emporium full of visual delights, moonbeams bounce and dance, around a pitted cloud clear site. A shooting star shining, a whooshing sound if heard, lights the sky as it blazes bright, starting in the east, accelerating, disappearing out of pleasured sight. Stars blaze illuminating dark, the galaxy forming its magical map of horoscopes in this glorious orb, Its North Star guidance for some who navigate upon our planet earth be it on land air or under the sea, a million or more miles the distance should we achieve the ability to or want to go see up close these glowing planets of rock, gas and ore. Dying stars growing in their brightness, as if, a last attempt of holding life, Glowing brighter than before their internal charges disperse, fading no longer able to ignite. Dancing colours in the north and south, painted great abstracts wide and far, Hues of fusing reds oranges yellows greens across dark blue, Spectacular moments for those with time to sit, observe and view, these magical electrically charged special dancing hues. Reflections distorting down below, hues shading, appearing blushed as oceans gush and light rides upon a moonlit magnetic heaving tide, a tide awaiting, a stage set for two Only you can see the magic being created in front of misted, barely woken if open eyes, Only you can see the rising spirits coming up to play upon the core of sphere, Under the kaleidoscope twinkling melee filled bustling sea and sky. Rise up, a beckon, a call to you, come join this light filled orb of invisible tunes, Where a piano plays a serenade and the orchestra complements with Soft sounds of Trombones, cello’s, violins, tuba’s, drums and flutes A tempo set to sweep excited people off their seat and on into their dancing shoes Rise up in your sparkly dancing dress and shoes for you are floating Imagination growing with every timeless move Twinkling stars blinking approval, reflections in the agreeing tide as it ebbs and flows. Rise up, move, dance, sway, step and jump to those imaginary magical tunes A prince of darkness, a dreaming queen   A loving scene, a glory electrically charged night time dancing dream.
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May 28, 2015
May 28, 2015 at 2:31 PM UTC
Night time serenade
An emporium full of visual delights, moonbeams bounce and dance, around a pitted cloud clear site. A shooting star shining, a whooshing sound if heard, lights the sky as it blazes bright, starting in the east, accelerating, disappearing out of pleasured sight. Stars blaze illuminating dark, the galaxy forming its magical map of horoscopes in this glorious orb, Its North Star guidance for some who navigate upon our planet earth be it on land air or under the sea, a million or more miles the distance should we achieve the ability to or want to go see up close these glowing planets of rock, gas and ore. Dying stars growing in their brightness, as if, a last attempt of holding life, Glowing brighter than before their internal charges disperse, fading no longer able to ignite. Dancing colours in the north and south, painted great abstracts wide and far, Hues of fusing reds oranges yellows greens across dark blue, Spectacular moments for those with time to sit, observe and view, these magical electrically charged special dancing hues. Reflections distorting down below, hues shading, appearing blushed as oceans gush and light rides upon a moonlit magnetic heaving tide, a tide awaiting, a stage set for two Only you can see the magic being created in front of misted, barely woken if open eyes, Only you can see the rising spirits coming up to play upon the core of sphere, Under the kaleidoscope twinkling melee filled bustling sea and sky. Rise up, a beckon, a call to you, come join this light filled orb of invisible tunes, Where a piano plays a serenade and the orchestra complements with Soft sounds of Trombones, cello’s, violins, tuba’s, drums and flutes A tempo set to sweep excited people off their seat and on into their dancing shoes Rise up in your sparkly dancing dress and shoes for you are floating Imagination growing with every timeless move Twinkling stars blinking approval, reflections in the agreeing tide as it ebbs and flows. Rise up, move, dance, sway, step and jump to those imaginary magical tunes A prince of darkness, a dreaming queen   A loving scene, a glory electrically charged night time dancing dream.
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