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"ache" poems
Body of a woman, white hills, white thighs, you look like a world, lying in surrender. My rough peasant's body digs in you and makes the son leap from the depth of the earth. I was lone like a tunnel. The birds fled from me, and nigh swamped me with its crushing invasion. To survive myself I forged you like a weapon, like an arrow in my bow, a stone in my sling. But the hour of vengeance falls, and I love you. Body of skin, of moss, of eager and firm milk. Oh the goblets of the breast! Oh the eyes of absence! Oh the roses of the ***** Oh your voice, slow and sad! Body of my woman, I will persist in your grace. My thirst, my boundless desire, my shifting road! Dark river-beds where the eternal thirst flows and weariness follows, and the infinite ache.
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Body of a Woman
There comes a day in your life where you meet someone special… You try so hard not to admit it but you just can’t hold back the way you feel… I like you. You get all those feelings… Those butterflies you can’t stomach, That heart rate you can’t put at ease, So baby … Sweetheart with the beautiful smile. Sure, I loved sleep But dreams couldn't compare Not to talking to you until my mind screamed for rest And the butterflies in my stomach settled Darling with the endless amount of love… your love could fill the oceans and climb the tallest trees, but could your love belong to me someday? Be given to me? Can you feel the way I do for you? & Boy, sometimes I tangle my own fingers Closing my eyes, losing myself in a daydream Where your voice is more than an echo in my mind And I even believe for a few seconds you're still here Lover, who writes me poems, You should know I write you too. I write about you until my fingers ache And still after that I keep writing Because there's just some people you could write about forever And baby, you're one of them. And boy who played me a song, Sweet sounds bow down to my ears, And the way you play your guitar… & the way I daydream about kissing your lips... I can’t wait until the sparks of your tongue burn my mouth send electric shocks through my body Cutie… with the funny jokes, You make me laugh. Today you made me laugh, like you always do, you’re the only one who can now a days. Baby, with those sparkling eyes, Your eyes haunt me whether I'm dreaming or not And what haunts me more is the fact that I can’t have you now because you ruined it It hurts to think about it, So I have to block you out. Play your songs to someone else, Read your silly lines of heartache to someone else, And go find… someone else.
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Jul 5, 2013
Jul 5, 2013 at 5:10 PM UTC
I kinda sorta think I'm falling for you
There comes a day in your life where you meet someone special… You try so hard not to admit it but you just can’t hold back the way you feel… I like you. You get all those feelings… Those butterflies you can’t stomach, That heart rate you can’t put at ease, So baby … Sweetheart with the beautiful smile. Sure, I loved sleep But dreams couldn't compare Not to talking to you until my mind screamed for rest And the butterflies in my stomach settled Darling with the endless amount of love… your love could fill the oceans and climb the tallest trees, but could your love belong to me someday? Be given to me? Can you feel the way I do for you? & Boy, sometimes I tangle my own fingers Closing my eyes, losing myself in a daydream Where your voice is more than an echo in my mind And I even believe for a few seconds you're still here Lover, who writes me poems, You should know I write you too. I write about you until my fingers ache And still after that I keep writing Because there's just some people you could write about forever And baby, you're one of them. And boy who played me a song, Sweet sounds bow down to my ears, And the way you play your guitar… & the way I daydream about kissing your lips... I can’t wait until the sparks of your tongue burn my mouth send electric shocks through my body Cutie… with the funny jokes, You make me laugh. Today you made me laugh, like you always do, you’re the only one who can now a days. Baby, with those sparkling eyes, Your eyes haunt me whether I'm dreaming or not And what haunts me more is the fact that I can’t have you now because you ruined it It hurts to think about it, So I have to block you out. Play your songs to someone else, Read your silly lines of heartache to someone else, And go find… someone else.
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47
#*We're awakened to our insatiable longing for heaven through both beauty and the painful marring of it. For beauty hints to us of that for which we are truly made, and its marring shouts that we are truly not meant to find it here. We can be eternally grateful for beauty lost when we realize that it's one of the great secret-tellers of the universe. Still we fear it so and often fear even to hope for the beauty itself, though they are a necessary cycle that fuels us on and drives us home. We cannot deny or diminish our intense longing for beauty-- to see it and have it and be it, and we cannot pretend that its dreadful loss does not press down upon us like a crushing weight. We must let it crush us until our ache for heaven is excruciating.*#
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Nov 18, 2015
Nov 18, 2015 at 7:59 PM UTC
Beauty and Beauty Lost
#*It is out of the heart’s cavernous longing and furious search for love, significance, acceptance, approval, identity, security, freedom, belonging, innocence, intimacy and transcendence— out of its primordial memory of what was lost to us in the Garden— that we begin to ***** idols for ourselves. Unconsciously we hope they might restore to us a taste of paradise, taking away our fear and shame and isolation. We yearn to go back but, alas, we cannot get in from there. We ache to connect to beauty, to be desired by it as much as we desire it, and Jesus is the only door by which we may enter. He is the Beauty, and all the rest are simply there like pealing bells to arouse our hearts to Him and tell us that He is coming for us. Still, as if we haven’t quite yet heard and believed the message, we keep aimlessly trying to forge a false righteousness through our false gods. When they are lost or the dreams of them unrealized we are devastated, for the shadows, echoes and reflections we had supposed would finally make us feel good about ourselves have been exposed as frauds, and once again we are left to feel naked but without fig leaves to cover us. It is at these precise moments, when the bottom of our false hope falls out, that we are best prepared to encounter Christ in His intimate fullness and most apt to recognize at last that He alone is everything we have been so desperately wanting. It is our boiling point, where the unbearable weight of failed expectation so crashes in on us that we are finally begging God to lift our idols off of us and deliver us from them, pleading with Him to come and capture us, crying out to Him to possess us fully.*#
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Jul 3, 2016
Jul 3, 2016 at 12:58 PM UTC
The Long Way Home
#*It is out of the heart’s cavernous longing and furious search for love, significance, acceptance, approval, identity, security, freedom, belonging, innocence, intimacy and transcendence— out of its primordial memory of what was lost to us in the Garden— that we begin to ***** idols for ourselves. Unconsciously we hope they might restore to us a taste of paradise, taking away our fear and shame and isolation. We yearn to go back but, alas, we cannot get in from there. We ache to connect to beauty, to be desired by it as much as we desire it, and Jesus is the only door by which we may enter. He is the Beauty, and all the rest are simply there like pealing bells to arouse our hearts to Him and tell us that He is coming for us. Still, as if we haven’t quite yet heard and believed the message, we keep aimlessly trying to forge a false righteousness through our false gods. When they are lost or the dreams of them unrealized we are devastated, for the shadows, echoes and reflections we had supposed would finally make us feel good about ourselves have been exposed as frauds, and once again we are left to feel naked but without fig leaves to cover us. It is at these precise moments, when the bottom of our false hope falls out, that we are best prepared to encounter Christ in His intimate fullness and most apt to recognize at last that He alone is everything we have been so desperately wanting. It is our boiling point, where the unbearable weight of failed expectation so crashes in on us that we are finally begging God to lift our idols off of us and deliver us from them, pleading with Him to come and capture us, crying out to Him to possess us fully.*#
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27
Fire burns in hell. Too. All dragged down down d o w n to the bottom of the abyss. Guess I'll just start.... Drinking, dollar store love potions. Only to get a stomach ache. Those **** butterflies. They've done it again. .
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Jul 1, 2012
Jul 1, 2012 at 4:44 AM UTC
Dollar Store. Love Potions.
. *Honeybees, birds and blooms unfurl an enchanting spell when spring comes by here Memories waft 'neath burled rustic trellis where flowered tendrils grasp fleshly like the newness a love once tenderly embraced Songbirds in your garden sing of swooning memories rapture.., of velvet eyes,   the fragrant spicy nectar hidden within her walls                             A song of honeyed bees'  sweetest stinger, and the poignant ***** of intoxicating surrender lingers, bemused spellbound by a thorny heirloom rose Sharp beauty beloved like a blameless trap caught blissfully, breathlessly inbetween all you wish for and all your wanton needs Desire 's wellspring an unspoken passion coquet swollen buds adorn blossoming, sensual, untamed carnal grace A picture perfect natural beauty; sunlit chassé … feathered brush, demure blush dancing with basket of lace petal’d perfume For to colour a heart's blank pages rapt in the poesy a joyous ecstasy .., enrapture with rainbow's luscious taste What seems lost is but a tender vestige unfound a passing moments innocence lost to steal away like rumors of gold These silent reveries seep from a hole in my heart,   as if ripe strawberries of yore, gently weeping sweetness when pricked by a thorny rose   The ides of spring do still bleed a timeless ache onto the page ... sweet naivety stung by a mesmerizing dart to the heart Songbirds in your garden do sing of sweetest things immersed in nature's nectar blissful memories sleeping in the petals of a rose* Sung to the wind by a song sparrow — ♪ ♫...✩ ☼✩ ✩☺✩
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Aug 14, 2016
Aug 14, 2016 at 12:08 PM UTC
Songbirds in your garden sing
. *Honeybees, birds and blooms unfurl an enchanting spell when spring comes by here Memories waft 'neath burled rustic trellis where flowered tendrils grasp fleshly like the newness a love once tenderly embraced Songbirds in your garden sing of swooning memories rapture.., of velvet eyes,   the fragrant spicy nectar hidden within her walls                             A song of honeyed bees'  sweetest stinger, and the poignant ***** of intoxicating surrender lingers, bemused spellbound by a thorny heirloom rose Sharp beauty beloved like a blameless trap caught blissfully, breathlessly inbetween all you wish for and all your wanton needs Desire 's wellspring an unspoken passion coquet swollen buds adorn blossoming, sensual, untamed carnal grace A picture perfect natural beauty; sunlit chassé … feathered brush, demure blush dancing with basket of lace petal’d perfume For to colour a heart's blank pages rapt in the poesy a joyous ecstasy .., enrapture with rainbow's luscious taste What seems lost is but a tender vestige unfound a passing moments innocence lost to steal away like rumors of gold These silent reveries seep from a hole in my heart,   as if ripe strawberries of yore, gently weeping sweetness when pricked by a thorny rose   The ides of spring do still bleed a timeless ache onto the page ... sweet naivety stung by a mesmerizing dart to the heart Songbirds in your garden do sing of sweetest things immersed in nature's nectar blissful memories sleeping in the petals of a rose* Sung to the wind by a song sparrow — ♪ ♫...✩ ☼✩ ✩☺✩
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38
*i always imagine you so very graceful through the masochists ordeal a god form of supplication seeing your face in love fascinated by shimmering kisses that hurt, yet please wet lips and sharp teeth   glamors that excite cold blade licks dragged across tender bellies naval buttocks and flexed toes stinging then radiating outwards wounds become lilies mouth ******* tremulous weeping kisses ecstatic cruelties blood glitter sacrifice your supplication love pangs i'm shaking apart over you your countenance a cascading dream moved to tears of adoration your  limitless yielding like surrenders caress an infinite communion with fragile limbs silky wrapped spools innerness of desire veiled in a shroud a faltering star that glistens crimson nymph of purgation ash volcanic cells en-flamed with tongues that bite subsumed in scented vapors a confection of **** and *** waves embrace ineffable shores passed the discontinuity of life   I have the most immense feeling of love for you am i not the saint death   quietly following you through life's labyrinth innocuous   waiting humbly in the wings i am all ache for you a vice of kisses a brief encounter that eats your sight and senses ushering you to immortal freedom a swooning garland of fire that enlivens the body electric a mist of molecules your tears intoxicate i am new life with in you budding embryo that consumes its mother for nourishment and saturates like dew drops   as it echoes through oblivion*
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Apr 4, 2017
Apr 4, 2017 at 3:50 PM UTC
Echoes of Oblivion
#*It is out of the heart’s cavernous longing and furious search for love, significance, acceptance, approval, identity, security, freedom, belonging, innocence, intimacy and transcendence— out of its primordial memory of what was lost to us in the Garden— that we begin to ***** idols for ourselves. Unconsciously we hope they might restore to us a taste of paradise, taking away our fear and shame and isolation. We yearn to go back but, alas, we cannot get in from there. We ache to connect to beauty, to be desired by it as much as we desire it, and Jesus is the only door by which we may enter. He is the Beauty, and all the rest are simply there like pealing bells to arouse our hearts to Him and tell us that He is coming for us. Still, as if we haven’t quite yet heard and believed the message, we keep aimlessly trying to forge a false righteousness through our false gods. When they are lost or the dreams of them unrealized we are devastated, for the shadows, echoes and reflections we had supposed would finally make us feel good about ourselves have been exposed as frauds, and once again we are left to feel naked but without fig leaves to cover us. It is at these precise moments, when the bottom of our false hope falls out, that we are best prepared to encounter Christ in His intimate fullness and most apt to recognize at last that He alone is everything we have been so desperately wanting. It is our boiling point, where the unbearable weight of failed expectation so crashes in on us that we are finally begging God to lift our idols off of us and deliver us from them, pleading with Him to come and capture us, crying out to Him to possess us fully.*#
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Nov 12, 2015
Nov 12, 2015 at 10:41 PM UTC
The Long Way Home
#*It is out of the heart’s cavernous longing and furious search for love, significance, acceptance, approval, identity, security, freedom, belonging, innocence, intimacy and transcendence— out of its primordial memory of what was lost to us in the Garden— that we begin to ***** idols for ourselves. Unconsciously we hope they might restore to us a taste of paradise, taking away our fear and shame and isolation. We yearn to go back but, alas, we cannot get in from there. We ache to connect to beauty, to be desired by it as much as we desire it, and Jesus is the only door by which we may enter. He is the Beauty, and all the rest are simply there like pealing bells to arouse our hearts to Him and tell us that He is coming for us. Still, as if we haven’t quite yet heard and believed the message, we keep aimlessly trying to forge a false righteousness through our false gods. When they are lost or the dreams of them unrealized we are devastated, for the shadows, echoes and reflections we had supposed would finally make us feel good about ourselves have been exposed as frauds, and once again we are left to feel naked but without fig leaves to cover us. It is at these precise moments, when the bottom of our false hope falls out, that we are best prepared to encounter Christ in His intimate fullness and most apt to recognize at last that He alone is everything we have been so desperately wanting. It is our boiling point, where the unbearable weight of failed expectation so crashes in on us that we are finally begging God to lift our idols off of us and deliver us from them, pleading with Him to come and capture us, crying out to Him to possess us fully.*#
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27
The false crisendo of your words Grate against my every nerves. Wandering round With ****** feet How many expectations Have I failed to meet? What more do you want Of my sorry soul When I cannot bring My self to breath anymore? So I watch your hopes all tumbling down It feels quite cold Down here in the ground. I'm sorry that I wasn't enough I tried to be what you asked of me But I didnt think it'd be So tough. My weary bones creak and ache, My wrist all burned and ****** Can you not be quite just once for my sake? I understand the gravity. I know Im failing at life, But you dig right in, spreading the cavity, How to ignore the strife? Whispered arguments bleed through the walls How much longer until we fall? Through the floor straight down to hell All because I could not tell. Should I weep in pain, And slave away, To satisfy you're whimsical ways? Should I sell my soul, And bite my tongue, Just to keep the wallet full? But "your so young, You've no excuse, So bend your back, Put those hands to use." Welcome to life. Put away your pain, No time for strife, No time for play, Just nod you head, Exit the stage, And get a job, So you'll be payed. I'd sooner live a poor church mouse, Then lose myself in persute of a house. But no, I'll smile my candy grin, And talk with sugar sweet. Hide the weight of the pain, So your expectations, I'll meet.
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Feb 3, 2018
Feb 3, 2018 at 11:39 PM UTC
Candy Grin
Oh!  There it is! The blood of my Mothers’ Sins Blossoming on My white sheets Like a bouquet of English roses. A shame - Laundry day had Been yesterday.   My thighs have been painted Rouge - They blush Like my cheeks When my gaze Lingers on my body Too long in the mirror As I put on my Sunday dress. The needles in my Lower back fill my ****** with blood - I am a woman now - And as such I must Wake before the sun And wash my sheets And my body Before anyone has a chance To smell the iron and the shame Between my legs.   I have never been so Acutely aware of my body: My sore ******* feel like Overripe tomatoes ready to burst, My stomach bloated and taking up Space I’m told is not ladylike - My head throbs, my limbs ache, and I continue to shed my insides. How is it I never noticed The cry of my body before? A week of blood Before I have served my sentence For a woman Who dared to disobey - I clean the stains And wash myself Away.
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Nov 11, 2014
Nov 11, 2014 at 2:32 AM UTC
************
There's no place to suffer, no going away. It's dark in here all of my days. No smiling lights, no happy surprise. Only this disguise, of constant lies. I know they bother them, my sad eyes. They can't bear to see, they want me to hide. Just stay empty inside, so they won't feel down. Still one by one, they'll all turn around. They won't ever stay, or test their extent of pain. They only obey their impulse to stray far away. They'll desert me to ache in this dark hole they can’t take, where I get no relief not even in sleep. So I guess save yourself I’ll taint that light you keep. I'll burden your soul, til you can't take anymore. Then I'll drain you dry before I kiss you goodbye. And you'll never know when it's all done, I'll still be empty but you'll be gone.
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Aug 18, 2017
Aug 18, 2017 at 6:36 AM UTC
Empty
Let me mold my body along your curves; trickle yourself into my entire being *Vulnerable, **** my heart exposed*, palpably we connect across the starry sky; you ... within me I want your intimacy to linger along the edges of my lips hours after you've gone I ache to be consumed by your eyes, intense with emotions, long after the dawn Take me to your intimate chambers where hearts race; the rhythm of our silhouettes melded on satin sheets Leisurely feel your way; a slow descend along the avenue of my rhythmic swell; forgive me of my quivering wanton needs Allow me to graze at the gates of your femininity, drinking the honey from your pink walls; to feel your crowning point between my lips How can I resist those wandering lips that stirs the curtains of my garden alcove; perfectly painted in honey dew, I throb for the touch of your kiss Drape your thighs upon my shoulders; let the waves of satisfaction cascade up your spine I beg to be released, dear God, of this intoxicating spell; I submit myself, heart laid bare; oceans of emotions no longer can I hide. Find your eyes locking with mine; my torso parallels yours, my body pressed to you; equal in ferocity and tenderness Mesmerize by your burning eyes in our melting flesh, so strong your hold; yet so tender your caress Utter our names in fiery moans both whispered and screamed in heated breaths on our solitary night Vile obscenities float out on heated breath, as cool air kiss our molded skin on the evening our time takes flight Take me to your heart & cast away the flesh; allow our souls to weave in the throes of passion as our bodies mix into one; slow-motion ecstasy A longing deep inside, the locked chambers of my soul to exotic places beyond our imaginationsyou sneak into my heart to fulfill my every fantasy  Feed me the lullabies you paint on your canvas; orgiastic symphony we conduct in cascading tides; trembles throughout our bodies when our fluids mix Let me paint upon your heart a ballet of our duet; the crescendo palette of my tide drown you in the spirit of our lyrics Your ripe fruit quivers tenderly while our union completes; take my hands and let me be yours Hold my sated body that tremors from the wake; a union of our souls ensnare a bond secure ~
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Sep 18, 2017
Sep 18, 2017 at 7:34 AM UTC
Tonight is Ours
Let me mold my body along your curves; trickle yourself into my entire being *Vulnerable, **** my heart exposed*, palpably we connect across the starry sky; you ... within me I want your intimacy to linger along the edges of my lips hours after you've gone I ache to be consumed by your eyes, intense with emotions, long after the dawn Take me to your intimate chambers where hearts race; the rhythm of our silhouettes melded on satin sheets Leisurely feel your way; a slow descend along the avenue of my rhythmic swell; forgive me of my quivering wanton needs Allow me to graze at the gates of your femininity, drinking the honey from your pink walls; to feel your crowning point between my lips How can I resist those wandering lips that stirs the curtains of my garden alcove; perfectly painted in honey dew, I throb for the touch of your kiss Drape your thighs upon my shoulders; let the waves of satisfaction cascade up your spine I beg to be released, dear God, of this intoxicating spell; I submit myself, heart laid bare; oceans of emotions no longer can I hide. Find your eyes locking with mine; my torso parallels yours, my body pressed to you; equal in ferocity and tenderness Mesmerize by your burning eyes in our melting flesh, so strong your hold; yet so tender your caress Utter our names in fiery moans both whispered and screamed in heated breaths on our solitary night Vile obscenities float out on heated breath, as cool air kiss our molded skin on the evening our time takes flight Take me to your heart & cast away the flesh; allow our souls to weave in the throes of passion as our bodies mix into one; slow-motion ecstasy A longing deep inside, the locked chambers of my soul to exotic places beyond our imaginationsyou sneak into my heart to fulfill my every fantasy  Feed me the lullabies you paint on your canvas; orgiastic symphony we conduct in cascading tides; trembles throughout our bodies when our fluids mix Let me paint upon your heart a ballet of our duet; the crescendo palette of my tide drown you in the spirit of our lyrics Your ripe fruit quivers tenderly while our union completes; take my hands and let me be yours Hold my sated body that tremors from the wake; a union of our souls ensnare a bond secure ~
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21
At last you have departed and gone to the Unseen. What marvelous route did you take from this world? Beating your wings and feathers, you broke free from this cage. Rising up to the sky you attained the world of the soul. You were a prized falcon trapped by an Old Woman. Then you heard the drummer's call and flew beyond space and time. As a lovesick nightingale, you flew among the owls. Then came the scent of the rosegarden and you flew off to meet the Rose. The wine of this fleeting world caused your head to ache. Finally you joined the tavern of Eternity. Like an arrow, you sped from the bow and went straight for the bull's eye of bliss. This phantom world gave you false signs But you turned from the illusion and journeyed to the land of truth. You are now the Sun - what need have you for a crown? You have vanished from this world - what need have you to tie your robe? I've heard that you can barely see your soul. But why look at all? - yours is now the Soul of Souls! O heart, what a wonderful bird you are. Seeking divine heights, Flapping your wings, you smashed the pointed spears of your enemy. The flowers flee from Autumn, but not you - You are the fearless rose that grows amidst the freezing wind. Pouring down like the rain of heaven you fell upon the rooftop of this world. Then you ran in every direction and escaped through the drain spout . . . Now the words are over and the pain they bring is gone. Now you have gone to rest in the arms of the Beloved.
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36.7k
Gone to the Unseen
At last you have departed and gone to the Unseen. What marvelous route did you take from this world? Beating your wings and feathers, you broke free from this cage. Rising up to the sky you attained the world of the soul. You were a prized falcon trapped by an Old Woman. Then you heard the drummer's call and flew beyond space and time. As a lovesick nightingale, you flew among the owls. Then came the scent of the rosegarden and you flew off to meet the Rose. The wine of this fleeting world caused your head to ache. Finally you joined the tavern of Eternity. Like an arrow, you sped from the bow and went straight for the bull's eye of bliss. This phantom world gave you false signs But you turned from the illusion and journeyed to the land of truth. You are now the Sun - what need have you for a crown? You have vanished from this world - what need have you to tie your robe? I've heard that you can barely see your soul. But why look at all? - yours is now the Soul of Souls! O heart, what a wonderful bird you are. Seeking divine heights, Flapping your wings, you smashed the pointed spears of your enemy. The flowers flee from Autumn, but not you - You are the fearless rose that grows amidst the freezing wind. Pouring down like the rain of heaven you fell upon the rooftop of this world. Then you ran in every direction and escaped through the drain spout . . . Now the words are over and the pain they bring is gone. Now you have gone to rest in the arms of the Beloved.
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42
Grace. Let it fall like an ocean Let it rip through the skies Let it fill up my heart and pour out my eyes Let it gravitate my soul Let it make me feel whole Let it remind me of why I live Let it remind me of all that you give! Grace Let my heart be made still and let mine eyes be opened! Let me remember that my ears were made to listen And my lips exist for a lot more than just kissin' Let me remember that these hands simply cannot do it all Cuz see I wasn't made for that I wasn't made for that at all Grace I was made to live and when I say live I think I mean give But then I quickly realize I can only give so much! And there's only so many lives I can touch! Well how can I love if I can't constantly give And how can I live if I can't constantly love but Where's the hope in the God above if I'm the one doin' all the work? And that's when I remember I accomplish the most when I just let go And let You grab hold Grace Well what were these hands made for if not feeding the poor? And what are these heart-wrenching feelings of constantly wanting more? Why do my bones ache and my soul quake at the thought Of living for myself? Why do I worry so much about putting the marginalized on the shelf? Why do I worry about a life that loves hell? Well maybe all this is an unidentified desire to glorify God personified in Jesus Christ crucified Grace And maybe my soul's been singin' songs to my saviour since the day I was born And maybe my saviour's been singin' sweet lullabies to quench the fear in my eyes Maybe not all is lost Maybe hope and salvation really come without cost WELL TRY AND TELL THAT TO THE MAN LIVIN' ON THE STREET WITH NOTHIN' TO EAT an' TELL THAT TO THE CHILD WHOSE FATHER GIVES HIM A DAILY BEATING TELL THE MURDERER'S AND RAPISTS THAT THEY CAN GO FREE TELL THEIR VICTIMS... Tell them what? Grace Maybe it's time I remembered I don't have all the answers Maybe it's time I remembered I am a speck of dust in a rolling beach of existence Maybe it's time I look at what's right in front of me And not strain my neck as far as the eye can see Maybe it's time to focus on living and not just surviving Maybe thriving looks more like trusting than trying Maybe all the answers to my questions aren't really answers at all Maybe it's alright that my walk sometimes feels like a crawl Maybe 100% of the wrongs I do are all my fault Grace Maybe God's lookin' at me like a child set free Maybe God's not lookin' at who I used to be Maybe God's lookin' right past all the bitterness and apathy Maybe God really does look at the heart And maybe He's been holding mine from the very start Maybe this is all going according to plan and if it's not well then maybe God's still using it to help me become a better man Maybe it's time I stopped trying to figure all this out! Grace Let it be felt Tangibly
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Sep 22, 2012
Sep 22, 2012 at 8:56 PM UTC
Grace (Spoken Word)
Grace. Let it fall like an ocean Let it rip through the skies Let it fill up my heart and pour out my eyes Let it gravitate my soul Let it make me feel whole Let it remind me of why I live Let it remind me of all that you give! Grace Let my heart be made still and let mine eyes be opened! Let me remember that my ears were made to listen And my lips exist for a lot more than just kissin' Let me remember that these hands simply cannot do it all Cuz see I wasn't made for that I wasn't made for that at all Grace I was made to live and when I say live I think I mean give But then I quickly realize I can only give so much! And there's only so many lives I can touch! Well how can I love if I can't constantly give And how can I live if I can't constantly love but Where's the hope in the God above if I'm the one doin' all the work? And that's when I remember I accomplish the most when I just let go And let You grab hold Grace Well what were these hands made for if not feeding the poor? And what are these heart-wrenching feelings of constantly wanting more? Why do my bones ache and my soul quake at the thought Of living for myself? Why do I worry so much about putting the marginalized on the shelf? Why do I worry about a life that loves hell? Well maybe all this is an unidentified desire to glorify God personified in Jesus Christ crucified Grace And maybe my soul's been singin' songs to my saviour since the day I was born And maybe my saviour's been singin' sweet lullabies to quench the fear in my eyes Maybe not all is lost Maybe hope and salvation really come without cost WELL TRY AND TELL THAT TO THE MAN LIVIN' ON THE STREET WITH NOTHIN' TO EAT an' TELL THAT TO THE CHILD WHOSE FATHER GIVES HIM A DAILY BEATING TELL THE MURDERER'S AND RAPISTS THAT THEY CAN GO FREE TELL THEIR VICTIMS... Tell them what? Grace Maybe it's time I remembered I don't have all the answers Maybe it's time I remembered I am a speck of dust in a rolling beach of existence Maybe it's time I look at what's right in front of me And not strain my neck as far as the eye can see Maybe it's time to focus on living and not just surviving Maybe thriving looks more like trusting than trying Maybe all the answers to my questions aren't really answers at all Maybe it's alright that my walk sometimes feels like a crawl Maybe 100% of the wrongs I do are all my fault Grace Maybe God's lookin' at me like a child set free Maybe God's not lookin' at who I used to be Maybe God's lookin' right past all the bitterness and apathy Maybe God really does look at the heart And maybe He's been holding mine from the very start Maybe this is all going according to plan and if it's not well then maybe God's still using it to help me become a better man Maybe it's time I stopped trying to figure all this out! Grace Let it be felt Tangibly
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67
oh, rose addicted lips, cruel and beautiful, whisper your gentle lies and ponder; what do you despise more, the ache or the release?
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Aug 20, 2018
Aug 20, 2018 at 10:55 PM UTC
the voice of a tender insomniac
The distant hollow of the high mountain pass swallows the setting sun as it steals away southbound behind the coastal mountain's tangerine sunset hued silhouettes Mulberry plashed shadows pointing northward across the evergreens outstretched dimming, beneath the waning fade of each fleeting eventide Sundown ebbing asunder the wafting daylight, each gloaming of the day, helplessly a moment sooner past, transfixed further south beyond yesterday's passing azure The lazy days of summer escape unbounded, nomadic as the sea I've seen sail away before; evanescent as the beauty of the bloom summer days beheld and the memory of the fragrance they exhale The nebulous weight of the gravity is consciously denied by the truths a human heart beholds A moment’s epiphany afflicts like a rogue wave in a calm sea; the only thing my heart ever wanted remains out of reach Everything my heart needs consciously surrendering to the poignant passing moment's beauty, the falling sun at distance sets more suddenly now Lost in the undeniable certainty life's imminent season's change Eyes drawn stubbornly from presence to a sky so far away, knowing there'll be no restitution for the welling sense of loss... A bitter sweet song mummers in the silence of the absorbing spell, summer's sun stained pages of watermarked soul scribbles, time tattooed reparation for the indelible ache of a harsh grey winter loneliness Perhaps too familiar, this whelming Déjà vu that tears my soul;     that tugs at these roots but cannot sever their sacred grasp But for now, eyes fixed to the sun's inevitable tightening tether hence — to wear weary each fraying thread's  impending break Each sunset leans a deeper angle southward as it slips down through the firwood shadows; illuminating other faraway latitudes far beyond the distant horizon skies The preordained continuum unfolding what will be ... someone you used to know ... September 11, 2017 ... 7:30 PM
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Sep 14, 2017
Sep 14, 2017 at 11:41 AM UTC
Each Sunset Leans Farther Southward
The distant hollow of the high mountain pass swallows the setting sun as it steals away southbound behind the coastal mountain's tangerine sunset hued silhouettes Mulberry plashed shadows pointing northward across the evergreens outstretched dimming, beneath the waning fade of each fleeting eventide Sundown ebbing asunder the wafting daylight, each gloaming of the day, helplessly a moment sooner past, transfixed further south beyond yesterday's passing azure The lazy days of summer escape unbounded, nomadic as the sea I've seen sail away before; evanescent as the beauty of the bloom summer days beheld and the memory of the fragrance they exhale The nebulous weight of the gravity is consciously denied by the truths a human heart beholds A moment’s epiphany afflicts like a rogue wave in a calm sea; the only thing my heart ever wanted remains out of reach Everything my heart needs consciously surrendering to the poignant passing moment's beauty, the falling sun at distance sets more suddenly now Lost in the undeniable certainty life's imminent season's change Eyes drawn stubbornly from presence to a sky so far away, knowing there'll be no restitution for the welling sense of loss... A bitter sweet song mummers in the silence of the absorbing spell, summer's sun stained pages of watermarked soul scribbles, time tattooed reparation for the indelible ache of a harsh grey winter loneliness Perhaps too familiar, this whelming Déjà vu that tears my soul;     that tugs at these roots but cannot sever their sacred grasp But for now, eyes fixed to the sun's inevitable tightening tether hence — to wear weary each fraying thread's  impending break Each sunset leans a deeper angle southward as it slips down through the firwood shadows; illuminating other faraway latitudes far beyond the distant horizon skies The preordained continuum unfolding what will be ... someone you used to know ... September 11, 2017 ... 7:30 PM
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40
Goodnight green eyes, Your dreams await you in Silver-Lined skies, Dreams of dragons, and fairies, and me, and hopefully just a touch of mystery. The sliding colors slipping silently through silky seas, gliding gracefully over gallant gull wings, whisking you away with a gentle breeze. You see dragons and pirates, fairies and gypsies, tricksy little gnomes, and flamboyant pixies, you see them all tucking away, hiding in there homes as their thoughts start to stray. and as you glide gracefully over the sea, your thoughts start to wonder what tomorrow will be, will there be adventures or heart ache and loss, or maybe even a romp through the moss, you might not know now, but theres something you do, that someone you love, is waiting for you.
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May 29, 2014
May 29, 2014 at 8:29 PM UTC
Goodnight
To **** or not to **** that’s the ******* question: Whether 'tis nobler in the bowels to suffer The twists and turns of outrageous rumblings Or to take action against a bellyful of gas, And by farting pump one out? To strain, to bloat No more; and by a mighty outburst we’ll end The gut’s ache, and the thousand natural stenches That the **** is heir to, 'tis a resolution Right devoutly to be wish'd. To **** to **** But perchance to **** there's the ******* problem; For in that mighty **** of doom what turds may come, When we have let the little beauty out from mortal tail, Must give us pause; there's the danger That makes calamity of the farter’s life; For who would bear the sneers and mocks of men, The neighbour’s shock, the lover’s curling lip, The pangs of horrid stench, the ******* o’erflowing, The leaking **** orifice, and the drips, Impatient strainings that the tragic farter makes, When he himself might sweet easance make With a careful prodding finger? Who would a ******** wear, Grunting and sweating with noisome convulsions, But that the dread of solids after air-release, The undiscover'd oozings, from whose delivery No toilet visitor recovers, puzzles the will, And makes us bear the bellyache we have Than fly to others we know not of? Thus indigestion does make cowards of us all; And then the native heave of constipation Is sicklied o'er with the pale fear of defecation; And enterprises of both ******* and crapping With this regard, their currents turn awry, And lose the name of exciting toilet action.
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Mar 23, 2015
Mar 23, 2015 at 2:25 PM UTC
Hamlet's Toilet Problems
To **** or not to **** that’s the ******* question: Whether 'tis nobler in the bowels to suffer The twists and turns of outrageous rumblings Or to take action against a bellyful of gas, And by farting pump one out? To strain, to bloat No more; and by a mighty outburst we’ll end The gut’s ache, and the thousand natural stenches That the **** is heir to, 'tis a resolution Right devoutly to be wish'd. To **** to **** But perchance to **** there's the ******* problem; For in that mighty **** of doom what turds may come, When we have let the little beauty out from mortal tail, Must give us pause; there's the danger That makes calamity of the farter’s life; For who would bear the sneers and mocks of men, The neighbour’s shock, the lover’s curling lip, The pangs of horrid stench, the ******* o’erflowing, The leaking **** orifice, and the drips, Impatient strainings that the tragic farter makes, When he himself might sweet easance make With a careful prodding finger? Who would a ******** wear, Grunting and sweating with noisome convulsions, But that the dread of solids after air-release, The undiscover'd oozings, from whose delivery No toilet visitor recovers, puzzles the will, And makes us bear the bellyache we have Than fly to others we know not of? Thus indigestion does make cowards of us all; And then the native heave of constipation Is sicklied o'er with the pale fear of defecation; And enterprises of both ******* and crapping With this regard, their currents turn awry, And lose the name of exciting toilet action.
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33
I want to hit it hard, not romanticize about the blood ya feel me? As you read that first line, when you cross over to the second, your nose will start to bleed just before my fist connects with your face. I often dream about it, being feared. The only reason that you're on the ground is because I put you there. Quite frankly I'm fearful of myself. My throat still holds the ache of the alcohol going down. I swear to you I'm doing better. I swear. I can't swear in this house hold so I will talk so quickly creating run on sentences without punctuation or breath because I'm panicking over nothing in particular. ****** Add some shakes to your vocabulary and you've got it right. My medication puts stray dogs under my finger nails, that's ok because dogs are happiness. That's supposed to mean I'm happy. I made myself write this, its horrifyingly scattered just like my head. That's not right. That's wrong. Something is terribly wrong so I must fix it. That's what I do, I fix. I'll just look at this as art. Some persons trash is another ones treasure. I'm too scared to write anymore. This is garbage.
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Jul 22, 2014
Jul 22, 2014 at 12:58 AM UTC
Garbage.
I hope that you will smile today and give yourself a break. A smile can be great medicine. It helps when hearts might ache. Perhaps, if you try hard enough, the smile becomes a grin. And when you've worn it long enough, you'll feel it grow and then... The grin becomes a chuckle and it then becomes a laugh. And everyone will wonder if you've made a social gaffe. For laughter is contagious and it helps to get us through. Here's hoping that today will bring some happiness to you.
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Aug 22, 2017
Aug 22, 2017 at 10:24 AM UTC
Smile
I can feel them on my skin. I feel their electricity, so powerfully pleasing, pulling me in. Every glance, makes my stomach dance. The longer it lingers, I ache for her fingers laced between mine. Because, it's only in those moments that things seem fine.
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Apr 3, 2014
Apr 3, 2014 at 6:14 PM UTC
Her Eyes
Zikr jab zindagi ka hota hai toh hum aksar apni zindagi ke guzre waqt ke flashbacks mein chale jaate hai, aur kehte hai zindagi toh bohot buri guzar rahi hai.. yeh maana ki jo beet gaya hai usse bhulaya toh jaa sakta hai magar apne zehan se mitaya nahi jaa sakta.. bas unn tamaam ache-bure daur ko muqaddar samjhkar aage badha jaa sakta hai. Aur life mein ek phase aata jab humein lagta hai ab aur kya dekhne ko baaqi reh gaya hai zindagi mein saare tajurbe aur sabaq mil chuke hai ab toot jaane mein hi bhalayi hai haar jaana hi ek aakhri sahi rasta hai. Aur phir apni khushiyon ka shok aur barbaadiyon ka jashn manane lag jaate hai. Magar khushiyan bhi itni aasani haar nahi maanti. Zindagi humein har ache-bure daur ke baad ek khoobsurat tohfa deti hai jisse hum mauka kehte hai. Humein zindagi se mile wo saare tajurbe aur sabaq phir se jeene ka hausla dete hai. Ek nayi umeed dete hai. Aur shayad isliye hum zindagi ka saath nahi chhorte. Beete kal mein pareshan rehte hai, aane kal ki fizool mein fikar rehti hai aur jo aaj hai usse jeete toh hai magar thodi bechaini ke saath. Jo guzar gaya usse accept karke aage badh jao, jo kal hoga wo tumhare aaj ki mehnat se pata chalega na ki fikar se, aur apne aaj se mohabbat karo. Ek badi ajeeb si cheez hai jo hum sabhi ke saath hoti hai jab hum 5-6 saal purani tasveer mein khudko dekhte hai toh hasi aajati hai ki kaise the hum ab waqai behtar badlaav aaya hai hum mein wo badlaav tum laaye ** khud ke andar. Waqt ke saath mature hokar, mushkil se mushkil maqaam haasil karke, apna vision aur mindset positive rakhkar, apni zindagi ko sahi raaste mein le jaakar. Isliye tum haare nahi ** zindagi mauke deti hai magar tumhe ehsaas tak nahi hone degi kab tumne uss mauke ka fayda utha liya. Aur agar kabhi bura phase aaye toh uss mein bekhauf hokar jeena magar sahi waqt par nikalkar apni zindagi ko behtar bana dena. Kyunki abhi tumhara qissa khatam nahi huwa, abhi tumhe nikhar ke wapas aana hai kahani badalne.. .
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Mar 1, 2020
Mar 1, 2020 at 12:25 PM UTC
Shayad isliye bhi hum Jindagi ka saath Nhi chorte
Zikr jab zindagi ka hota hai toh hum aksar apni zindagi ke guzre waqt ke flashbacks mein chale jaate hai, aur kehte hai zindagi toh bohot buri guzar rahi hai.. yeh maana ki jo beet gaya hai usse bhulaya toh jaa sakta hai magar apne zehan se mitaya nahi jaa sakta.. bas unn tamaam ache-bure daur ko muqaddar samjhkar aage badha jaa sakta hai. Aur life mein ek phase aata jab humein lagta hai ab aur kya dekhne ko baaqi reh gaya hai zindagi mein saare tajurbe aur sabaq mil chuke hai ab toot jaane mein hi bhalayi hai haar jaana hi ek aakhri sahi rasta hai. Aur phir apni khushiyon ka shok aur barbaadiyon ka jashn manane lag jaate hai. Magar khushiyan bhi itni aasani haar nahi maanti. Zindagi humein har ache-bure daur ke baad ek khoobsurat tohfa deti hai jisse hum mauka kehte hai. Humein zindagi se mile wo saare tajurbe aur sabaq phir se jeene ka hausla dete hai. Ek nayi umeed dete hai. Aur shayad isliye hum zindagi ka saath nahi chhorte. Beete kal mein pareshan rehte hai, aane kal ki fizool mein fikar rehti hai aur jo aaj hai usse jeete toh hai magar thodi bechaini ke saath. Jo guzar gaya usse accept karke aage badh jao, jo kal hoga wo tumhare aaj ki mehnat se pata chalega na ki fikar se, aur apne aaj se mohabbat karo. Ek badi ajeeb si cheez hai jo hum sabhi ke saath hoti hai jab hum 5-6 saal purani tasveer mein khudko dekhte hai toh hasi aajati hai ki kaise the hum ab waqai behtar badlaav aaya hai hum mein wo badlaav tum laaye ** khud ke andar. Waqt ke saath mature hokar, mushkil se mushkil maqaam haasil karke, apna vision aur mindset positive rakhkar, apni zindagi ko sahi raaste mein le jaakar. Isliye tum haare nahi ** zindagi mauke deti hai magar tumhe ehsaas tak nahi hone degi kab tumne uss mauke ka fayda utha liya. Aur agar kabhi bura phase aaye toh uss mein bekhauf hokar jeena magar sahi waqt par nikalkar apni zindagi ko behtar bana dena. Kyunki abhi tumhara qissa khatam nahi huwa, abhi tumhe nikhar ke wapas aana hai kahani badalne.. .
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3
Did you see the bliss Shoot across the night sky? Here then there so quickly Like a blink could project its moment Yet when crumbling Into the quake of memory It is the window's remaining rain Trickling down so slowly after the storm Until all that is left is its drying trail Clear to see the tired clouds sink behind A heart so weathered Never truly sleeps. Never rests The hallow beats manifest Into the crippling visions of the night Blanketed by such distress Until the rising light does nothing But awaken the regrets that were left on the nightstand Like a book with one chapter No where left to turn Do you see the ache Shining dim in the night sky? Like a footprint in the moon's dust As alone as one could ever walk Do you see the shame? Like forty dying stars Their fiery, blazing eyes Watching every paranoid jitter
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Dec 11, 2014
Dec 11, 2014 at 5:54 PM UTC
Like Forty Dying Stars
Each day as evening starts to set The ache builds in her chest She knows she must go to bed And try to get some rest. She hugs her tear stained pillow close When no one is around And cries for one she loved and lost And screams without a sound Others see her in the day And think she's doing well But everyday as evening sets She enter her own hell Time hasn't healed her pain at all Or quieted her fears So every night, alone in bed She sheds those silent tears. -kp
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Jul 16, 2015
Jul 16, 2015 at 9:03 AM UTC
Silent Tears
Hiding the hurt, hiding the pain Hiding the tears that fall like rain. Saying I'm fine , when I'm anything but, This ache In my soul rips at my gut. My skin is on fire, I burn from within The calm on my face is an ongoing sin. The world must stay out, I've built up a wall My fragile lie will collapse should it ever fall. Loneliness consumes me, it eats away the years Until my life is swallowed by unending fears. Waiting for someone to see I wear a mask And care enough to remove it, is that too much to ask?
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Feb 17, 2017
Feb 17, 2017 at 5:31 PM UTC
Behind The Mask