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"admires" poems
A Year ago, in the same date As A Stranger I entered this beautiful Garden Hp A Beautiful flower (Elsa) drags me with her pure heart Wise words (from wolf, Sir Poet,Jack, etc.) kept me to know the life’s secret Sweet buds (Smiriti, Aarvie,) enjoys me with their great writes Love Birds (Brandon &jane;) echoes me their beautiful rhythms My Beautiful Bros (ryn, Joe, pradip,spt, Mufiq) supports me and admires with their strong writes My Sweet sisters (Donna, pax, nimah, Vicki) fills my heart with their pure poems All my new friends (Eddie, patty, gray l, tropica, wepping willow, Mysterious , Jimmy, its gona make sense, packin heat ,Poetry journal,Dark n beautiful, Wilson, Rose, James, Margaux, Asim, etc) gave me beautiful space and spirits..
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Oct 31, 2015
Oct 31, 2015 at 1:31 AM UTC
GRATITUDE !!
He that loves a rosy cheek, Or a coral lip admires, Or from star-like eyes doth seek Fuel to maintain his fires: As old Time makes these decay, So his flames must waste away. But a smooth and steadfast mind, Gentle thoughts and calm desires, Hearts with equal love combined, Kindle never-dying fires. Where these are not, I despise Lovely cheeks or lips or eyes.
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13k
The Unfading Beauty
This mother of mine is a brilliant ray of light, Who illuminates even the darkest night, Who brightens every lonely face, With a silent, sincere, and sweet embrace This mother of mine can take the heat, When she's faced with a problem, she doesn't skip a beat, We may talk back and make a fuss, But she still shows her love towards us This mother of mine admires the trees that grow tall, She likes how they waver, but never fall, They wave back and forth and emanate peace, And show her that God's love for us will never cease This mother of mine is the strongest woman of all, For my life without her would surely crumble and fall, She has taught me how to pick myself off the ground, I am truly grateful to have my mother around.
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May 8, 2016
May 8, 2016 at 12:48 AM UTC
This Mother of Mine
She is a warm gentle sunflower, whose roots have dug deep, whose stem never wavers. She looks up to the sun, admiring the bright glorious rays shining down upon her She feels freedom blowing through her like the wind and feels life pour into her like the rain. She marvels at the brilliance of the sunset and admires the warm glow it brings to the world. But silently she cries in the night, for what would she have without the sunlight? Then she simply looks up to the gleaming luminousness of the stars, and knows she's not alone.
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Jan 4, 2016
Jan 4, 2016 at 9:46 PM UTC
Freedom in the Stars
You think you're a piece of grass A grain of sand on a beach Maybe you are But to me you aren't You are as beautiful as the stars All of space admires you You are the rising sun We orbit around you You are the whole **** ocean And the whole ******* sky With your stupid cute dimples Eyes that change color Red hair that isn't really red You are my sky and my stars Don't you ever forget it
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Jul 31, 2014
Jul 31, 2014 at 2:01 AM UTC
My sky
Your eyes shine intensely So intense The midday sun seems so dark They possess This intense luminescence They tease me like a planet That longs to be explored I would telescope them As an astronomer admires the night sky Peering into them Looking to traverse through your mind Get lost within Reveling in the beauty that is such Stumble across the kind magnificence That is your gentle soul
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Jan 19, 2015
Jan 19, 2015 at 3:27 AM UTC
Your Eyes. My Wonderland
The garden admires you. For your sake it smears itself with green pigment, The ecstatic reds of the roses, So that you will come to it with your lovers. And the willows-- See how it has shaped these green Tents of silence. Yet There is still something you need, Your body so soft, so alive, among the stone animals. Admit that it is terrible to be like them, Beyond harm.
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8k
The Garden
In a field of red roses by the lake, A white rose calls up to the sun With her beautiful petal scarf And her cheerful smile Over another field, a tulip stands sad He is one in the crowd, no one special “Smart,” some say, “too shy” others may But he struggles, moving his cheek The tulip looks at the ethereal rose every day Wondering how such a flower grew from the floor An angel’s tears of joy, he might think A kiss from Gaia, he would have hoped Tulip doesn’t know much of the rose And fears never being able to embrace her He feels that both have too much in common But his inner parasites would hurt her For a majestic rose that dances with the moon in the water Such normal tulip will never have a chance Her perfect stem is made of silk His is damaged and made of paper Still, the tulip dreams Wishing one day to fly, as his roots would rip Detaching from the floor, from his forlorn life Flying towards the star reflected in the lake, where his solitude would end The white rose doesn’t realize, still How much he admires her strength, cleverness, and beauty Until the tulip sends his seeds of love In the form of this poem and painting For a more radiant future he fights Forever aligned with the Astraea of his heart Because she glows in the night Inspiring him to be better And even if the rose doesn’t recognize the tulip She should know that he is right there In an everyday battle to talk to her He is smart and shy, but eager to give all his petals to see her smiling for him
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Jan 14, 2021
Jan 14, 2021 at 8:14 AM UTC
Tulip and Rose
In a field of red roses by the lake, A white rose calls up to the sun With her beautiful petal scarf And her cheerful smile Over another field, a tulip stands sad He is one in the crowd, no one special “Smart,” some say, “too shy” others may But he struggles, moving his cheek The tulip looks at the ethereal rose every day Wondering how such a flower grew from the floor An angel’s tears of joy, he might think A kiss from Gaia, he would have hoped Tulip doesn’t know much of the rose And fears never being able to embrace her He feels that both have too much in common But his inner parasites would hurt her For a majestic rose that dances with the moon in the water Such normal tulip will never have a chance Her perfect stem is made of silk His is damaged and made of paper Still, the tulip dreams Wishing one day to fly, as his roots would rip Detaching from the floor, from his forlorn life Flying towards the star reflected in the lake, where his solitude would end The white rose doesn’t realize, still How much he admires her strength, cleverness, and beauty Until the tulip sends his seeds of love In the form of this poem and painting For a more radiant future he fights Forever aligned with the Astraea of his heart Because she glows in the night Inspiring him to be better And even if the rose doesn’t recognize the tulip She should know that he is right there In an everyday battle to talk to her He is smart and shy, but eager to give all his petals to see her smiling for him
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Candle candle, in the air, Where is your flicker, Where is your flare? Candle candle, in the dark, Do you believe with all your heart, That you and your light will never part? Candle candle, in the night, Do you not scoff at the sight, Of the darkness that surrounds you? Candle candle, light so small, Do you not have one single flaw? Nothing to hide, it only reflects off the nearby wall. Candle candle, why do you flicker? Do you barely hold on and hinder, While bearing the cold harsh winter? Candle candle, of golden warmth, Why is it so easy to love, to adore, All you are that shines brightly on the floor? Candle candle, flame of bright, Why so humble and yet reach for heights, No one admires or sees, for we all are blind? Candle candle, why so faint? You have endless beauty of flame, And no match to light it, only pain. Candle candle, in my dream, Tell me, are the things I see, Things of old or present reality? Candle candle, in my head, Is the flame of my heart, The one fire I haven’t lit yet? Candle candle, tell me now, Where to give up, when, and how, So I can leave the dark and shine bright. Candle candle, show me how, To light my spark and take a bow, For the candle’s voice is a small sound. Candle candle, on the wall, Let me glide and let me fall, This is my choice, it’s not your call. Candle candle, why so hot? Draw me close just for a shot, To see what it would’ve brought? Candle candle, pull me close, Tell me all, I want to know, So that you will never hit a low. Candle candle, listen dear, Life is too short for sadness or fear, Regrets, pain, or makeup-filled tears. Candle candle, I know it’s hard, You were never warned you would get this scarred, And put up with the things of the dark. Candle candle, cherish what you have, And never even try to look back, There are only lost memories that take what you had. Candle candle, you were thrown out, Rejected with force and left with doubt, Of your flame that still yearns to shout, Candle candle, here I stand, Take all of me, take all that I am. It’s my turn to play in love’s final band.
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Nov 29, 2017
Nov 29, 2017 at 10:07 PM UTC
Candle Candle
Candle candle, in the air, Where is your flicker, Where is your flare? Candle candle, in the dark, Do you believe with all your heart, That you and your light will never part? Candle candle, in the night, Do you not scoff at the sight, Of the darkness that surrounds you? Candle candle, light so small, Do you not have one single flaw? Nothing to hide, it only reflects off the nearby wall. Candle candle, why do you flicker? Do you barely hold on and hinder, While bearing the cold harsh winter? Candle candle, of golden warmth, Why is it so easy to love, to adore, All you are that shines brightly on the floor? Candle candle, flame of bright, Why so humble and yet reach for heights, No one admires or sees, for we all are blind? Candle candle, why so faint? You have endless beauty of flame, And no match to light it, only pain. Candle candle, in my dream, Tell me, are the things I see, Things of old or present reality? Candle candle, in my head, Is the flame of my heart, The one fire I haven’t lit yet? Candle candle, tell me now, Where to give up, when, and how, So I can leave the dark and shine bright. Candle candle, show me how, To light my spark and take a bow, For the candle’s voice is a small sound. Candle candle, on the wall, Let me glide and let me fall, This is my choice, it’s not your call. Candle candle, why so hot? Draw me close just for a shot, To see what it would’ve brought? Candle candle, pull me close, Tell me all, I want to know, So that you will never hit a low. Candle candle, listen dear, Life is too short for sadness or fear, Regrets, pain, or makeup-filled tears. Candle candle, I know it’s hard, You were never warned you would get this scarred, And put up with the things of the dark. Candle candle, cherish what you have, And never even try to look back, There are only lost memories that take what you had. Candle candle, you were thrown out, Rejected with force and left with doubt, Of your flame that still yearns to shout, Candle candle, here I stand, Take all of me, take all that I am. It’s my turn to play in love’s final band.
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Venti, I admire, I wish I was like you who soars through the sky. Free like the bird you are, Unburdened by worries, just like stars dancing at night. venti sits. Up in his statue, He admires the city, that he built. Venti, my sweet, How lovely is it for us to meet, Your green hair, your glowing locks, Please comfort my soul, so my heart will be unlocked. Your voice, your longing stare, I love that you're always waiting there. Your dreams, your goals, I love that you'd rather be free, like the god of wind! You fly happily. Venti, my sweet, stop drinking wine, you're higher than a grape vine. Venti, my sweet, You prevent me from getting enough sleep. my thoughts wander, to your fantasy world I wish to discover. Your calming presence speaks, volumes of comfort, You never fail to bring me relief. May you sleep well. I'll be back for tomorrow before you say farewell. I love your antics, I love your voice. I love that you play with me, I love that you bring me joy. Venti, my sweet, Come have a picnic with me! At Windrise, for an afternoon tea. There's cake, there's biscuits, a lovely day, for you and me. A picnic, with me! I'm sorry, I didn't get you alcohol, I worry about your alcohol capacity. It rains. You once asked me to come out and play, over puddles, in patches of green grass, mist and hay, What a lovely way to spend the day. venti, your beauty is like no other, as pretty as the stars under glistening skies, its no wonder. I fell for your grace, I fell for your personality, how your smile brightens up my day entirely. slander your name, they do, but I shall savor my time spent with you. right or wrong, they dictate, but I shall pay them no mind, as always, my playmate. you live in my mind, however you like. as long as you're happy, I feel peace, basking in the moonlight.
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Dec 15, 2020
Dec 15, 2020 at 2:07 AM UTC
Beauty
Venti, I admire, I wish I was like you who soars through the sky. Free like the bird you are, Unburdened by worries, just like stars dancing at night. venti sits. Up in his statue, He admires the city, that he built. Venti, my sweet, How lovely is it for us to meet, Your green hair, your glowing locks, Please comfort my soul, so my heart will be unlocked. Your voice, your longing stare, I love that you're always waiting there. Your dreams, your goals, I love that you'd rather be free, like the god of wind! You fly happily. Venti, my sweet, stop drinking wine, you're higher than a grape vine. Venti, my sweet, You prevent me from getting enough sleep. my thoughts wander, to your fantasy world I wish to discover. Your calming presence speaks, volumes of comfort, You never fail to bring me relief. May you sleep well. I'll be back for tomorrow before you say farewell. I love your antics, I love your voice. I love that you play with me, I love that you bring me joy. Venti, my sweet, Come have a picnic with me! At Windrise, for an afternoon tea. There's cake, there's biscuits, a lovely day, for you and me. A picnic, with me! I'm sorry, I didn't get you alcohol, I worry about your alcohol capacity. It rains. You once asked me to come out and play, over puddles, in patches of green grass, mist and hay, What a lovely way to spend the day. venti, your beauty is like no other, as pretty as the stars under glistening skies, its no wonder. I fell for your grace, I fell for your personality, how your smile brightens up my day entirely. slander your name, they do, but I shall savor my time spent with you. right or wrong, they dictate, but I shall pay them no mind, as always, my playmate. you live in my mind, however you like. as long as you're happy, I feel peace, basking in the moonlight.
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You can tell a lot about A person by the ones he admires. Another telling factor is The people whom he inspires. Donald Trump, for example, Praises Putin, a leader who Has jailed dissenters, squashed human rights, And done away with opponents, too. After a questionable referendum, Which restricts in many ways Civil rights, the leader of Turkey, Erdoğan, received Trump's praise. Duterte of the Philippines-- Authoritarian and leading official-- Has had thousands of people killed In a manner blatantly extrajudicial. So that's his way of solving the problem Of drugs in the Philippines is it? And guess who wants the blood-thirsty, Despotic leader to come for a visit? And then there's the leader of North Korea, Kim Jong Un. Only a rookie Would say that the mad, unhinged and murderous Leader was a "pretty smart cookie." Trump's had business ties with three Of the above countries. There's no mistaking. But does this mean that a Trump Tower In Pyongyang is in the making? -by Bob B (5-3-17)
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May 3, 2017
May 3, 2017 at 9:57 AM UTC
Praising the Unpraiseworthy
every night before i sleep, without fail, romance fills my mind how hopeless, how naive, however you wish to call me but i think it's time to finally pick the red glass shards off the dark wooden shelf that is so full of dust, i hardly recognize it i cradle the glass in my hands withstanding the sharp red melting her into sweet honey and knowing the broken glass, is nothing but temporary i am not left without impurities with sharp edges and deformities but i am whole again and i will not let anyone drop it again because i will wait for an eternity to find someone who puts the glass up against the sunlight and admires its beauty i will find a love like mine someone who indulges in flowers and dream like christmas dates and holding my small hands there is no doubt about it i am a realistic romantic and i like you deserve to be loved, endlessly so
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Oct 6, 2023
Oct 6, 2023 at 5:40 PM UTC
i deserve to be loved
I cannot even look at you. You disgust me, and it's not even your fault. You're perfect in every way possible, you're everything I wish I could be. But I'm not. He looks at you like you're a shiny new toy, like a homeless man admires a dollar bill. He looks at me like I'm nothing but a disappointment. But it's not your fault. You didn't ask for it. You didn't ask to be perfect In his eyes. But still I hate you for it, yet all you want is to be like me. Which he won't ever let happen. You are and always will be everything I will never be.
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Aug 21, 2014
Aug 21, 2014 at 3:36 AM UTC
My brother
When I get too blue I laugh at myself pick up the leash and take Mr. Brown to the dog park. He shows me how to be carefree will jump and bark drink a gallon of water and lick whomever he chooses without a worry in the world. Everybody admires his ***** What kind of dog is that? He’s a Rhodesian Ridgeback. an African lion hound, but he’s scared shitless of my cat. what’s yours? A Visla. Looks like yours, only smaller. Did you see that American Foxhound? That s.o.b. can jump! Yeah, too bad he can’t pay my mortgage. The young photographer shows off his brilliant Doberman’s latest trick – a double backflip catching the Frisbee ten feet high landing on all fours. The old lady with the blind daschund says, “Oh, oh, isn’t he wonderful?” She claps her hands in delight. The canine Noah's arc show runs all day with the entry of pugnacious Sharpeis the arrogance of Poodles the inscrutability of giant Malamutes. the pride of leash-holders. Gradually tree shadows darken the sawdust and people start parading home, the **** athletic girls with their boyfriends’ Shepherds the slow old men with their greying Labradors the lady real estate agents with their tiny Shih Tzus. And then it’s silent I’m the last one there alone in the gathering dusk still hearing echoes of joyful barks realizing how funny it is that so many people look just like their dogs but I don’t think about it, I just marvel at all this joy.
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Feb 17, 2013
Feb 17, 2013 at 6:16 PM UTC
Dog Park
You see Diogenes living in the slums. He lives in a barrel. This is the man even Alexander the Great admires. So it makes you wonder about Diogenes. So you pretend to be there quite by accident and you ask: “Diogenes…Who was your teacher?” “A mouse was my teacher,” says Diogenes. You are quite confused. And you say: "A mouse is your teacher? And how is that, Diogenes? " “Well, most exquisite Sir,” says Diogenes to you. “Most cultured Sir,” he says. “I had no home and I was in the streets. I almost killed myself. Then I saw mouse. Mouse ran around and looked for food and it found some and I observed mouse for over two days. And I realized how resourceful mouse was. And then I said to myself: ‘Learn of the mouse, Diogenes- and all will be well.’ And so I learned of mouse. And every time I have a problem, I simply ask myself: ‘How will mouse solve this?’ And so mouse became my teacher. And now, most Exquisite Sir, I have a problem. You. I want to get rid of you and I ask myself: ‘How would mouse solve this problem?’ He would bite…” You listen to this and you are afraid – and you run. And Diogenes has done well; he has learned well from his teacher. And you can hear him shouting to you: “By the way, who was your teacher?”
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Oct 7, 2010
Oct 7, 2010 at 7:05 PM UTC
a mouse teaches Diogenes
To a male child his mother will always be his Queen. Which in some cases many spouses/lovers refuses to see. The whys are many and true? She's the first lady he will ever know. The first woman to watch him grow. She's his first defense protector. Mess with a mother's child. You're asking for confrontation. A boy needs his mom. And these feeling doesn't change when he's grown. The way you approach him as an adult. Can be measure in ways he admires his mom. If you disrespect her. Then to him you're disrespecting them. The tag "mama boy" doesn't offend many. To some it a earned honor. just know, a boy needs his mom. Even when he's grown. She's the first "be quiet" or "shut your mouth" person. Who has the ability to get it done? Hurt his mom in anyway. You'll face her protector. Who is his mom? And in this case you might get hurt by the daughter. There's this defense system built within. A force field in children's to watch over her. But more so for a boy. Even when he's a man. If she should die. Then he lost his world. All because she was the first woman to ever love him. Accepted him for his stupidty. Accepted him for his ways. The one truth lady to stand by him to her dying days.
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Dec 27, 2012
Dec 27, 2012 at 8:51 AM UTC
A Boy Needs His Mom
Rose: "Dandelion, how dare you grow in my bed! Only I have the privilege of feeding on this nutrient rich soil, created for me, me alone! You have no right to make your home here! My keeper will pull you out of the ground and dispose of you like the **** you are." Dandelion: "Rose, I've just as much right to grow as you do! Why do you insult me? Am I not a flower just like you?" "Dandelion, you're a common garden **** I'm beautiful, admired by all who set eyes upon me. My keeper feeds and carefully prunes my body. She admires my soft velvety petals which are the deepest red. My stem, so slender, my prickles tempting, dangerous. I'm beauty and pain in perfect harmony. You can admire, but do not touch!" "Rose, I'm beautiful in my own way, don't you see? My yellow petals, the colour of golden sunshine. I symbolise the sun, moon and stars; I'm also resilient. I've no carer to look after me, yet I still manage to flourish, even in the toughest of places." "Dandelion, your time will be short in this place! There's no room for your commonness here. I'm a special breed, you're ****** "Rose, I know my fates sealed, I accept the situation for what it is; Beauty's in the eye of the beholder. What you don't realise, we'll suffer the same fate! You'll end your days standing in a vase filled with water. My death will be quick; Yours prolonged! In the end, your beauty will be your downfall!"
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Sep 20, 2016
Sep 20, 2016 at 5:13 AM UTC
The Rose and Dandelion
Main and master goal I stand in gaze In a gaze that admires you I stand in amaze And wonder And wonder why all these thoughts ponder Why these thoughts take priority above all other These thoughts of you That has lit a liquid-oxygen combusted fire And now I stand trapped Trapped in this legitimate feeling of attraction My concentration depleted My heart weeps Weeps for the dungeon I've fallen in My heart weeps It weeps like a waterfall Tears that keep running down the face of my heart Your voice that resonates in my soul Like a viral infection that has pierced my heart Your beauty has undressed these naked eyes Now The only thought I have is you My heart has changed its pattern into... Into a pattern that spells your Name I close my eyes and echoed images live in the darkness of these shut eyes Your voice has broken the silence in me For I have savored it You relentlessly entered my heart Engraved your name on it Slowly I'm tearing in the inside I'm going insane Pain, no! Affectionate attraction, Yes! A weeping heart I have A weeping heart that is manifesting it all As in my manifestation I ought to be the leader of the nation inside me The creator of my inner creation Forgotten about the future I live in the past of your creation For all that entirely matters in the near future is: My main and master mission In vision with my main and master goal Past the sleepless nights' tension Past the deception of animations artificiality and into all reality Past my minds permission; it's approval Exceeding my potential but placing me in that position Disregarding all competition I stand and watch in 3rd person perspective My heart has risen like dust Even though it's dark my shadow has betrayed me; your smile shines through like lights rays The visible weeping heart is translucent My thoughts have become wishes Wishes exceeding my boundaries of limits Because my mission and master goal is for you to be mine...                                        By: Magnus Master Robinson
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Jan 23, 2014
Jan 23, 2014 at 10:08 AM UTC
The weeping heart
Main and master goal I stand in gaze In a gaze that admires you I stand in amaze And wonder And wonder why all these thoughts ponder Why these thoughts take priority above all other These thoughts of you That has lit a liquid-oxygen combusted fire And now I stand trapped Trapped in this legitimate feeling of attraction My concentration depleted My heart weeps Weeps for the dungeon I've fallen in My heart weeps It weeps like a waterfall Tears that keep running down the face of my heart Your voice that resonates in my soul Like a viral infection that has pierced my heart Your beauty has undressed these naked eyes Now The only thought I have is you My heart has changed its pattern into... Into a pattern that spells your Name I close my eyes and echoed images live in the darkness of these shut eyes Your voice has broken the silence in me For I have savored it You relentlessly entered my heart Engraved your name on it Slowly I'm tearing in the inside I'm going insane Pain, no! Affectionate attraction, Yes! A weeping heart I have A weeping heart that is manifesting it all As in my manifestation I ought to be the leader of the nation inside me The creator of my inner creation Forgotten about the future I live in the past of your creation For all that entirely matters in the near future is: My main and master mission In vision with my main and master goal Past the sleepless nights' tension Past the deception of animations artificiality and into all reality Past my minds permission; it's approval Exceeding my potential but placing me in that position Disregarding all competition I stand and watch in 3rd person perspective My heart has risen like dust Even though it's dark my shadow has betrayed me; your smile shines through like lights rays The visible weeping heart is translucent My thoughts have become wishes Wishes exceeding my boundaries of limits Because my mission and master goal is for you to be mine...                                        By: Magnus Master Robinson
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#1. What in the world          possessed you to do that!?@#$%^ My god . . . that was so stupid and careless! #2. Why? . . . I trusted my intuition. My heart believed, emotional logic compelled me. Fluid, spontaneous from the gut. #1. You’re crazy. I would never put myself at risk like that. #2. What risk? Getting harrassed by the mind police? They don't own me. #1. But they punished you. #2. No, just a little         desperate flaggelation. #2. But look at yourself all boxed up, stigmatized and branded. #1. You mean the labels? Those words they use to define me? #2. Yes, you’re a bad person. #1. No, I’m not. #2. Yes, you are. ... and they argued til dawn neither knowing nature does not declare winners but admires innovation.... like when Magellan sailed off no edges when Einstein confounded everyone by sailing in his head when the Wright Brothers lifted off when Tesla moved electrons when Christ embraced the centurions when Gautama just sat down when the librarian refused to take Catcher in the Rye off the shelf when Lenny Bruce swore on stage when Leary and Alpert left Harvard when Joan of Arc refused to recant when Gandhi and friends burned their English wool when Jung declared a spiritual psyche when the UFC earned a huge Neilsen so be your own guru take kava kava instead of Prozac barter with your hair stylist and when someone says you are wrong ask them why there are no dinosaurs in the Bible.
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Dec 5, 2012
Dec 5, 2012 at 9:18 AM UTC
THE FIGHT
He that loves a rosy cheek, Or a coral lip admires, Or from star-like eyes doth seek Fuel to maintain his fires; As old Time makes these decay, So his flames must waste away. But a smooth and steadfast mind, Gentle thoughts and calm desires, Hearts with equal love combin’d, Kindle never-dying fires. Where these are not, I despise Lovely cheeks, or lips, or eyes. No tears, Celia, now shall win My resolv’d heart to return; I have search’d thy soul within, And find nought, but pride, and scorn; I have learn’d thy arts, and now Can disdain as much as thou. Some power, in my revenge, convey That love to her I cast away.
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2.3k
Disdain Returned
The smashed ribs, the swollen legs The state of heart every time the ground shakes The endless tears, the unflattering fears The subdued feelings, the impotent states and I realize how helpless I am As everything vanished within seconds The cracked hopes, the buried dreams The unbearable truths, the painful screams The broken fantasies, the shattered desires The situation where no one admires Tried to stop, I tired to evade Then I realize how helpless I am as everything vanished within seconds
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May 10, 2015
May 10, 2015 at 8:51 AM UTC
Seconds
how great is Your love for rock solid relations yet in time rocks part through deep canyons Your waters remain stilled; Your mystery lies deep Your raptors fulfilled Your mountains so steep how could man survive Your greatness? even the eagle admires Your vastness! Your tangerine gaze stares back at the sun reflecting Your majesty where erosion has spun its webs of beauty cold veins are rare the desert's peace treaty with the hot bright glare
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Jul 1, 2016
Jul 1, 2016 at 3:27 PM UTC
Grand Canyon
????????? Time is not flying the evening hours are so slow, inching by and spent tossing and turning my restless mind roams dark avenues my restless feet roam the bed, left...right...then back, over and over. the bed, that was my hammock....no longer sways a promise of peaceful slumber, flies away, ??????? new and strange images start to trail me...they're heavy tassels, tagging on the hemlines of my mind, seeking to connect...to be known ??????? this late hour, i recall a forked road, not far from a winding road, from afar, a child admires a white castle high as the clouds, its windows, foggy, its high fence, mossy...on its front lawn is a treehouse, perched...resting like a bird inside a very old tree, leaning to its left side, with a long set of steps...all painted white. just below the white steps are gathered, doyens of poetry...seated in their own chosen corners...tacit, yet, empowered by their brilliant minds the tips of their feathered pens, smoothly sliding on paper......strange, that they're waving at me, why, they could be dead! ??????? i must be dreaming...my muse is showing me paths, i would think twice of treading ??????? a quartered moon selfishly glows unsettles even more, my murky thoughts... yet....my pressing thumb is on my journals i must heed.........the need. ??????? "o' my elusive unknown poem, kindly show me...lead me to your home let my pen give light to your dim path give second wind to my weary mind and heart, deny, even a bit of a space......for wrath, help me, push me...my efforts musn't cease show me your face...we'll both have peace." ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Sally © Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan April 21, 2018
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Apr 21, 2018
Apr 21, 2018 at 2:32 AM UTC
Unknown
????????? Time is not flying the evening hours are so slow, inching by and spent tossing and turning my restless mind roams dark avenues my restless feet roam the bed, left...right...then back, over and over. the bed, that was my hammock....no longer sways a promise of peaceful slumber, flies away, ??????? new and strange images start to trail me...they're heavy tassels, tagging on the hemlines of my mind, seeking to connect...to be known ??????? this late hour, i recall a forked road, not far from a winding road, from afar, a child admires a white castle high as the clouds, its windows, foggy, its high fence, mossy...on its front lawn is a treehouse, perched...resting like a bird inside a very old tree, leaning to its left side, with a long set of steps...all painted white. just below the white steps are gathered, doyens of poetry...seated in their own chosen corners...tacit, yet, empowered by their brilliant minds the tips of their feathered pens, smoothly sliding on paper......strange, that they're waving at me, why, they could be dead! ??????? i must be dreaming...my muse is showing me paths, i would think twice of treading ??????? a quartered moon selfishly glows unsettles even more, my murky thoughts... yet....my pressing thumb is on my journals i must heed.........the need. ??????? "o' my elusive unknown poem, kindly show me...lead me to your home let my pen give light to your dim path give second wind to my weary mind and heart, deny, even a bit of a space......for wrath, help me, push me...my efforts musn't cease show me your face...we'll both have peace." ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Sally © Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan April 21, 2018
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You're never lonely, during the day You always forget the being The one being behind you The being that will be their from your birth to your death The being the admires you so much that it stays connected to you It walks It dresses It talks Like you It accepts your flaws and doesn't judge you It'll never hurt you or stab your back and when you die it will die Because with out you Their is no reason for it to live anymore So you're never alone, because you have you.
0
Nov 28, 2014
Nov 28, 2014 at 12:24 AM UTC
Shadow
Like a shooting star Beautiful, yet so very far Made of my wishes, hopes and dreams Everything inside my heart For a fleeting second Seems you're just close enough to touch Then there you go again And I'm left wishing and missing you so much Waiting until you're back in my sights Covered by the darkness of night The only thing that could make me happier Would be flying by your side Shining brightly together As the rest of the world admires our beauty From a distance, forever
0
Aug 19, 2015
Aug 19, 2015 at 7:11 PM UTC
From A Distance