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"adoring" poems
talkshows and the yellow press get excited in excess over his shenanigans that delight his faithful fans rumors of these *** affairs strong words for all macho players      in the game of social thrones texts with threatening undertones      for minorities and women      treating immigrants like demons neither fans nor his opponents  seem to notice the components of the white house strategy      throw them bones      fodder for the yellow press and while  they fight clandestinely out of sight works the Trumpian policy   money laundering   blatant lies scolding allies   breaking ties adoring foes   praising those      usurpers of democracies      experts in atrocities slowly yet persistently      undermine  civility        with foul language  fill all courts with servile judges court the aristocracies           of oil sheikdoms in the East praising communist dictators who have helped him build his towers step by step he‘s leading US from the groups of international powers to an isolation desert at the margins of the world slogans we have rarely heard over decades         now re-nourished twittered with presidential flourish make America small again warning voices call in vain no wonder the statue of liberty is hiding her face in misery (*)
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Jul 26, 2018
Jul 26, 2018 at 5:24 PM UTC
fake president
I am in a crate, the crate that was ours, full of white shirts and salad greens, the icebox knocking at our delectable knocks, and I wore movies in my eyes, and you wore eggs in your tunnel, and we played sheets, sheets, sheets all day, even in the bathtub like lunatics. But today I set the bed afire and smoke is filling the room, it is getting hot enough for the walls to melt, and the icebox, a gluey white tooth. I have on a mask in order to write my last words, and they are just for you, and I will place them in the icebox saved for ***** and tomatoes, and perhaps they will last. The dog will not. Her spots will fall off. The old letters will melt into a black bee. The night gowns are already shredding into paper, the yellow, the red, the purple. The bed -- well, the sheets have turned to gold -- hard, hard gold, and the mattress is being kissed into a stone. As for me, my dearest Foxxy, my poems to you may or may not reach the icebox and its hopeful eternity, for isn't yours enough? The one where you name my name right out in P.R.? If my toes weren't yielding to pitch I'd tell the whole story -- not just the sheet story but the belly-button story, the pried-eyelid story, the whiskey-sour-of-the-nipple story -- and shovel back our love where it belonged. Despite my asbestos gloves, the cough is filling me with black and a red powder seeps through my veins, our little crate goes down so publicly and without meaning it, you see, meaning a solo act, a cremation of the love, but instead we seem to be going down right in the middle of a Russian street, the flames making the sound of the horse being beaten and beaten, the whip is adoring its human triumph while the flies wait, blow by blow, straight from United Fruit, Inc.
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19.6k
Love Letter Written In A Burning Building
I am in a crate, the crate that was ours, full of white shirts and salad greens, the icebox knocking at our delectable knocks, and I wore movies in my eyes, and you wore eggs in your tunnel, and we played sheets, sheets, sheets all day, even in the bathtub like lunatics. But today I set the bed afire and smoke is filling the room, it is getting hot enough for the walls to melt, and the icebox, a gluey white tooth. I have on a mask in order to write my last words, and they are just for you, and I will place them in the icebox saved for ***** and tomatoes, and perhaps they will last. The dog will not. Her spots will fall off. The old letters will melt into a black bee. The night gowns are already shredding into paper, the yellow, the red, the purple. The bed -- well, the sheets have turned to gold -- hard, hard gold, and the mattress is being kissed into a stone. As for me, my dearest Foxxy, my poems to you may or may not reach the icebox and its hopeful eternity, for isn't yours enough? The one where you name my name right out in P.R.? If my toes weren't yielding to pitch I'd tell the whole story -- not just the sheet story but the belly-button story, the pried-eyelid story, the whiskey-sour-of-the-nipple story -- and shovel back our love where it belonged. Despite my asbestos gloves, the cough is filling me with black and a red powder seeps through my veins, our little crate goes down so publicly and without meaning it, you see, meaning a solo act, a cremation of the love, but instead we seem to be going down right in the middle of a Russian street, the flames making the sound of the horse being beaten and beaten, the whip is adoring its human triumph while the flies wait, blow by blow, straight from United Fruit, Inc.
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48
Given to you unselfishly. Given to you so kindly. Not to be hurt. Not to be used incorrectly. Cherish the love someone gives you. Adore the feelings offered you. Admire the one loving you. Life goes through various bumps in the road. Except happiness holds more than we ever know. Cherish the love that cherish you. Adore the one that's adoring you. Admire the one admiring you. And you find love that truly enlighten you.
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Nov 7, 2015
Nov 7, 2015 at 12:12 PM UTC
Cherish, Adore, Admire
Situations find themselves unraveling uncontrollably, picking at scabs of superiority, delving into wide expanded pits of insecurity. The master of masking change would be the ever drifting reputation, it leaves bitter, it brings hate. May I express how much I hate? Nothing squirms and squiggles uncontrollably more, than watching reputations crumble, due to fake superiority. What do I want, change! What does she want? Change, but she gets insecurity. To understand the confliction, insecurity must paint walls of peeling purple hate. Well, something in you will change. You may remain stubborn, uncontrollably defending your sudden superiority, you’re just choosing a rotten reputation. I wish to fly you to a new nation, I mean shes breaking your reputation. I’d like to find the spot in your mind resided by insecurity, I know you’re not studded with superiority. She’s finding a reason for everyone else to hate the way you attract uncontrollably. Nothing about you, in you, should change, because this digs deeper than the change her and my relationship took, than are used to be reputation of adoring each other uncontrollably. of ignoring that insecurity. of the day she learned to hate, spindling a slippery net of superiority. Her comfort zone of a home lays in superiority, I’d rather cry endlessly than change by cultivating my hate for her, for her debilitating take on your reputation. Transperency touches insecurity and you are broken, falling uncontrollably. I will continue to hate her superiority, but that won’t reflect on her reputation. You mustn’t change your disposition, but lose the grip on insecurity Don’t you dare hate these words, they care, they love uncontrollably.
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Jun 21, 2012
Jun 21, 2012 at 10:45 PM UTC
My Words for Her
Situations find themselves unraveling uncontrollably, picking at scabs of superiority, delving into wide expanded pits of insecurity. The master of masking change would be the ever drifting reputation, it leaves bitter, it brings hate. May I express how much I hate? Nothing squirms and squiggles uncontrollably more, than watching reputations crumble, due to fake superiority. What do I want, change! What does she want? Change, but she gets insecurity. To understand the confliction, insecurity must paint walls of peeling purple hate. Well, something in you will change. You may remain stubborn, uncontrollably defending your sudden superiority, you’re just choosing a rotten reputation. I wish to fly you to a new nation, I mean shes breaking your reputation. I’d like to find the spot in your mind resided by insecurity, I know you’re not studded with superiority. She’s finding a reason for everyone else to hate the way you attract uncontrollably. Nothing about you, in you, should change, because this digs deeper than the change her and my relationship took, than are used to be reputation of adoring each other uncontrollably. of ignoring that insecurity. of the day she learned to hate, spindling a slippery net of superiority. Her comfort zone of a home lays in superiority, I’d rather cry endlessly than change by cultivating my hate for her, for her debilitating take on your reputation. Transperency touches insecurity and you are broken, falling uncontrollably. I will continue to hate her superiority, but that won’t reflect on her reputation. You mustn’t change your disposition, but lose the grip on insecurity Don’t you dare hate these words, they care, they love uncontrollably.
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39
You just don't have the want, and I seem to be boring you. I just can't understand, why I can't stop adoring you. I miss you while you're still around. I can't get anywhere without hearing your sounds. I want nothing else, all other feelings have ceased. I won't let myself stop, til I feel a release. You are the only thing, I can love anymore. Though I should have listened, What would have changed? and what for? I don't want anything, or anyone else. This way I feel for you, is like nothing I've ever felt. I would give up all i have and more. Just to have you for one moment, I'd claw out my core. I would do anything, for the girl I adore.
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May 31, 2015
May 31, 2015 at 5:41 PM UTC
The Girl I Adore
in a taut black dress you brush by me   you are dark summer fruit simmering hot a sopping estuary   i gather you into me   you cascade like an undulating cat giggles like trembling gelatin cherry kiss lips   agile muscle shifting   pleating like soft furs against my thunderous chest your tremulous tongue rupturing like spiced chrysanthemums from heaven   i inhale your lavender breath   your saliva melts stormy mouth up-leaping i eat your soul and paradise ******** licking honey rainbows filling my mouth a thousand times   and a thousand more its never enough when some one has your heart suffocate me in your drooling mouth your body is my aviary and hot house of man eating plants i run to your teeth beautiful cleavers gleaming shivering with excitement   from your dragging bites my blood languishing at your feet have no regard for me eat my love   i live to be swallowed by you   i hold you through the night all dire raptures dark in mystic paradise   tangled in your hair may mourning never find us torrid scorched from flames infernal black candles uncrossing pasts devils **** your adoring toy   kisses never ceasing hot weather nostrils steaming your flexed body writhes a royal contortion   your heart cleaving so that i may like a sun   consume your darkest edges bitter chocolate so sweet   to fill griefs mouth with ecstasy my heart aches like a siren of echoes   calling to you   shaking your gates down   you are a titanic gravity   and i'm forever tumbling   like eternal burning ashes through cobalt night it is a steep decent into heavens arms as i crumble all smashing diamonds and hissing flames into open wounds weeping glitter your chin jutting throat stretched while pulling the roots of your hair exposing arteries pulsing stuffing myself on your marrow you plume like a volcanic moon showering me with spooling stars and butter **** kisses ill turn you into my glistening little ***** all swollen tears for more   rituals of adoration kisses like monsoon rains i look up at your supple form your haunches my temple   worshiping you smothered in heavens jaws you cascading pantie-less   in a taut black dress
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Aug 22, 2017
Aug 22, 2017 at 1:36 PM UTC
IN A TAUT BLACK DRESS
in a taut black dress you brush by me   you are dark summer fruit simmering hot a sopping estuary   i gather you into me   you cascade like an undulating cat giggles like trembling gelatin cherry kiss lips   agile muscle shifting   pleating like soft furs against my thunderous chest your tremulous tongue rupturing like spiced chrysanthemums from heaven   i inhale your lavender breath   your saliva melts stormy mouth up-leaping i eat your soul and paradise ******** licking honey rainbows filling my mouth a thousand times   and a thousand more its never enough when some one has your heart suffocate me in your drooling mouth your body is my aviary and hot house of man eating plants i run to your teeth beautiful cleavers gleaming shivering with excitement   from your dragging bites my blood languishing at your feet have no regard for me eat my love   i live to be swallowed by you   i hold you through the night all dire raptures dark in mystic paradise   tangled in your hair may mourning never find us torrid scorched from flames infernal black candles uncrossing pasts devils **** your adoring toy   kisses never ceasing hot weather nostrils steaming your flexed body writhes a royal contortion   your heart cleaving so that i may like a sun   consume your darkest edges bitter chocolate so sweet   to fill griefs mouth with ecstasy my heart aches like a siren of echoes   calling to you   shaking your gates down   you are a titanic gravity   and i'm forever tumbling   like eternal burning ashes through cobalt night it is a steep decent into heavens arms as i crumble all smashing diamonds and hissing flames into open wounds weeping glitter your chin jutting throat stretched while pulling the roots of your hair exposing arteries pulsing stuffing myself on your marrow you plume like a volcanic moon showering me with spooling stars and butter **** kisses ill turn you into my glistening little ***** all swollen tears for more   rituals of adoration kisses like monsoon rains i look up at your supple form your haunches my temple   worshiping you smothered in heavens jaws you cascading pantie-less   in a taut black dress
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79
Combining each thought and sharing a single mind, while all living things rot, there's a darkness that can blind. We believe ourselves are invisible, never worthy of a second glance, and even when miserable, we all can receive a second chance. Darling have you heard the story of the sun and the moon, a love that was eternal, yet ended far too soon. And even though opposite, they made the other complete, as at night the Earth was moonlit and in day the sun brought heat. And they were outlined by the stars, forever lighting up their connection, and in between came Mercury and Mars, barely sliding by detection. Yes it's truly a sorry and sad tune, that old love story of the sun and the moon. Shining for eachother and lighting up the world, with a love that could smother and emotional tides always swirled. Passing by and on the go, barely glimpsing a sight, but the moon will always glow and the sun will always shine bright. Darling have you heard the story of the sun and the moon, with disaster so contagious, they were always truly immune, and even though apart, they shared a soul together, and they shared a heart, and they shared the skies forever. And they were outlined by the stars, forever lighting up their connection. In the history books and memoirs, there's some things they fail to mention: they were both adoring and made the other swoon, that old love story of the sun and the moon. It wasn't well hidden; they danced a dance of pure seduction, and they felt it was forbidden, as it would lead to their destruction. So they kept their space, to give us both the dark and the light, and now they rise and set as a race, it's competition and a fight. And they were outlined by the stars, forever lighting up their connection. The constellations near and far, tell the tale of their affection. It may not be of glory, and it may just tell of ruin, but we all should remember the love story of the sun and the moon.
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Sep 22, 2017
Sep 22, 2017 at 10:28 PM UTC
The Story of The Sun & The Moon
Combining each thought and sharing a single mind, while all living things rot, there's a darkness that can blind. We believe ourselves are invisible, never worthy of a second glance, and even when miserable, we all can receive a second chance. Darling have you heard the story of the sun and the moon, a love that was eternal, yet ended far too soon. And even though opposite, they made the other complete, as at night the Earth was moonlit and in day the sun brought heat. And they were outlined by the stars, forever lighting up their connection, and in between came Mercury and Mars, barely sliding by detection. Yes it's truly a sorry and sad tune, that old love story of the sun and the moon. Shining for eachother and lighting up the world, with a love that could smother and emotional tides always swirled. Passing by and on the go, barely glimpsing a sight, but the moon will always glow and the sun will always shine bright. Darling have you heard the story of the sun and the moon, with disaster so contagious, they were always truly immune, and even though apart, they shared a soul together, and they shared a heart, and they shared the skies forever. And they were outlined by the stars, forever lighting up their connection. In the history books and memoirs, there's some things they fail to mention: they were both adoring and made the other swoon, that old love story of the sun and the moon. It wasn't well hidden; they danced a dance of pure seduction, and they felt it was forbidden, as it would lead to their destruction. So they kept their space, to give us both the dark and the light, and now they rise and set as a race, it's competition and a fight. And they were outlined by the stars, forever lighting up their connection. The constellations near and far, tell the tale of their affection. It may not be of glory, and it may just tell of ruin, but we all should remember the love story of the sun and the moon.
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38
Clusters of stars burst to life in your eyes. Your heart is like Nebulus; Orion  - your mind. You are a Constellation Of magical sensations, No natural explanation Can anyone find. Glorious spectacle. Worthy and respectable. Very unpredictable; A Constellation sublime. Fireworks are boring. I'd rather be adoring The beauty of your glory. A vision in the sky. Suspended over mortals. No entry through your portals. No duplicated models. You're one of a kind. You are a Constellation. A memorable elation. You'll have my admiration Until the day I die.
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Jan 26, 2011
Jan 26, 2011 at 9:19 AM UTC
A Constellation
Gaunt in gloom, The pale stars their torches, Enshrouded, wave. Ghostfires from heaven's far verges faint illume, Arches on soaring arches, Night's sindark nave. Seraphim, The lost hosts awaken To service till In moonless gloom each lapses muted, dim, Raised when she has and shaken Her thurible. And long and loud, To night's nave upsoaring, A starknell tolls As the bleak incense surges, cloud on cloud, Voidward from the adoring Waste of souls.
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7.2k
Nightpiece
if dandelions sprouted from my chest and cherry blossoms sprouted from yours I think the reason we cannot be one would become evident immediately I am unwanted, plucked away and hidden at first sight left to die, hoping my return never comes as though I was never there to begin with you, the weary blossom showing your face in the smallest intervals your sighting a blessing, to all that see leave your adoring fans, wanting more I wish for more of you too, you know I yearn deeply, each waking hour that you would attempt to cover your beauty only temporarily and I could cover my unsightly anatomy maybe permanently and we could love one another for just a day my heart in your hands and your hands in my hair our lips pressed together your blossoming chest and my unwanted greenery no longer in the way just tickling a little when our bodies merge as one
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Dec 23, 2013
Dec 23, 2013 at 3:19 PM UTC
dandelions & cherry blossom
"come on, Forget-Me-Not!" flirted emerald Snapdragon, "tell me, what’s it like to have control over me, for once?" like fire, the cerulean bloom did crackle and hiss and walked away in a heated, dreadful silence. "why do you call me that?" asked uncertain Snapdragon, "tell me, why don’t you speak with me like you used to?" like salt, the windowed flame did flicker thrice - and was swept away by the threatening, stormy sea breeze. "please, my sun-kissed Fox," begged hesitant Snapdragon, "shower me in loving words like you did before." like rain in drought, the elusive creature did rarely show his face, if so, only for laughter’s sake, to break the horrid silence. "tell me, darling Forget-Me-Not," pleaded melancholy Snapdragon, "why don’t you love me anymore?" oh how she sobbed as, like childhood, her Snapdragon self become part of his past - he shrugged his pale, fragile shoulders, swaying in the salty breeze. "dear seaside Sunset," wrote tragic Snapdragon, "I am truly sorry, I miss our days in love. your presence filled a hole in me, now empty." but far too long in blinded oversight, Forget-Me-Not had stood, and much too late did adoring Snapdragon realise her mistake.
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Nov 5, 2014
Nov 5, 2014 at 8:01 AM UTC
overheard: loveflowers from the bottom of the garden
Pencil - ****** - ***** - Penalize -Pentagram - Pentagon - Pentagonal - Penitentiary -Pensive - Peninsula - P....... ....Plagued. What is it to be plagued? Haunted? Seiged by an inescapable force? Haulted? IMMOVABLE. ability to move, yet achieving no valuable distance. A struggle writhing within ones self. Pen -Pent- Pent up- P... ....Please, no more.... ....more miles high..... Stakes, In the ground..... Great stakes..... High, So very high. Unreachable. Unattainable. Pen-Pensive-Pacing- to pace back and forth down a narrow stretch of newly carpeted hallway. A door. Adoring..... Adorable.... Sweet. Innocence left? May be none left.
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Sep 30, 2014
Sep 30, 2014 at 10:30 AM UTC
"P"
Meaningful is the wayward child that is found, For he or she finds favor in thus adoring praise. Replenishing spiritual vines that spread messages of hope above and beyond. Therefore, the third eye knoweth all. Whose breath gives life to the faint hearted. As barriers are tore down, crossing over... Anointed one, where, the precious angel entered. You are the brothers and sisters in faith building. They do preserver as the battle of Jericho. In a molding guidance of clay made hands... For their is hope of feeding the milk as well as the flesh. Kisses of glory befall unto your good graces. Thou wisdom quench the hell like rain pour puddles. His world! His judgment! His wrath! Bestow thou honor, in hills of perfect talk. Fatherless child! Fatherless child! Beware of the dragon den. Slay your enemies with delicate wings:the cup of kindness. As you are humbled in purple linens, fading all unseemly. The soldier of bravery, when thou hour come, there is a home. Cross over into the well enlightened pathways. Make the rough roads a gateway to the everlasting promise. Sing in jubilation, for tribulation is done and your vision seen.
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May 21, 2011
May 21, 2011 at 10:21 AM UTC
Cross Over
* Black and Dark are not necessary bad things Many people associate negativity to it All our African people are dark and black Night is dark - and that is not bad too Thinking, speaking, writing of Black, Dark, & Night As negative, pessimistic and bad Only shows our ignorance in how we all are Brain-washed by those who think & believe White and light is superior to every thing Please remove this ignorance While reading this poem Where LOVE is hopefully represented As a Black Dark spot on white light life Black and Dark are as good as Or even better than white and light Here Black and Dark is used positively Read it so that way XXXXXXX *How can I remove The Black spot of LOVE From my life? How can I hide The Dark spot of LOVE From my being? How can I not find A job that will give me work A place to go and stay A friend who would understand me A family who would accept me A BELOVEDz who will hold my hand My life is considered useless By everyone in this city Because of this Black Dark spot of LOVE I carry around my heart's kitty With such accusations Falling on me from everywhere How can I go in front Of my BELOVEDz to Show how much I LOVE her I've forgotten everything in life I'm lost everything in the process of Adoring this... Black and Dark spot of LOVE People say I've gone mad & crazy In seeking positivist within Black and Dark How am I suppose to find The ways of life again for The journey to my BELOVEDz heart On the dark night path  of fate? This life without A  Black Dark spot of LOVE Was nothing but waste Life was just a maze of chase For greed, success, wealth & fame Till my BELOVEDz painted my soul Black Dark with her LOVE SOUL illuminate Now how am I suppose to Remove the Black Dark liquid of LOVE That runs within my veins And why should I? When my Black Truth is Much better than world's white lies When my Dark LOVE is Much better than world's light life Black Dark Spot of LOVE Is the only positive I carry So why should I even try to Remove the Black Dark spot of LOVE* *
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Aug 22, 2019
Aug 22, 2019 at 9:50 AM UTC
Black Dark Spot
* Black and Dark are not necessary bad things Many people associate negativity to it All our African people are dark and black Night is dark - and that is not bad too Thinking, speaking, writing of Black, Dark, & Night As negative, pessimistic and bad Only shows our ignorance in how we all are Brain-washed by those who think & believe White and light is superior to every thing Please remove this ignorance While reading this poem Where LOVE is hopefully represented As a Black Dark spot on white light life Black and Dark are as good as Or even better than white and light Here Black and Dark is used positively Read it so that way XXXXXXX *How can I remove The Black spot of LOVE From my life? How can I hide The Dark spot of LOVE From my being? How can I not find A job that will give me work A place to go and stay A friend who would understand me A family who would accept me A BELOVEDz who will hold my hand My life is considered useless By everyone in this city Because of this Black Dark spot of LOVE I carry around my heart's kitty With such accusations Falling on me from everywhere How can I go in front Of my BELOVEDz to Show how much I LOVE her I've forgotten everything in life I'm lost everything in the process of Adoring this... Black and Dark spot of LOVE People say I've gone mad & crazy In seeking positivist within Black and Dark How am I suppose to find The ways of life again for The journey to my BELOVEDz heart On the dark night path  of fate? This life without A  Black Dark spot of LOVE Was nothing but waste Life was just a maze of chase For greed, success, wealth & fame Till my BELOVEDz painted my soul Black Dark with her LOVE SOUL illuminate Now how am I suppose to Remove the Black Dark liquid of LOVE That runs within my veins And why should I? When my Black Truth is Much better than world's white lies When my Dark LOVE is Much better than world's light life Black Dark Spot of LOVE Is the only positive I carry So why should I even try to Remove the Black Dark spot of LOVE* *
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71
*The blue song bird mellifluous singer admired for her songs that melt even hearts of rock, riding the crust of the adoring wind, swoop,             down,                     down,                               down without a thought suddenly alights, heroically tries to sit, on a high tension power line; yet another of her impromptu acts like before, she labors to convince everyone in a shrill chirping sound that dangerously she lives taking life in her own hands. East wind, her companion tells she is mistaken; he tries to push her away from the lethal wire on which death awaits with its dark hum "young and wayward bird you tell me you learn so quickly from your mistakes, alright from now and the moment next lies an unknown chasm in a jiffy if you decide to fathom it no time is left for unlearning what it teaches and reverse your journey to the winter land  of darkness from where no migratory bird has ever come back" The bird so deaf to wind's words, still hovers above the wire the wind in warning hums a sad tune aloud.*
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Jan 9, 2014
Jan 9, 2014 at 11:18 AM UTC
The blind bird moment on the verge of the chasm
Virtue runs before the muse And defies her skill, She is rapt, and doth refuse To wait a painter's will. Star-adoring, occupied, Virtue cannot bend her, Just to please a poet's pride, To parade her splendor. The bard must be with good intent No more his, but hers, Throw away his pen and paint, Kneel with worshippers. Then, perchance, a sunny ray From the heaven of fire, His lost tools may over-pay, And better his desire.
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4.6k
Loss And Gain
I This is the night mail crossing the Border, Bringing the cheque and the postal order, Letters for the rich, letters for the poor, The shop at the corner, the girl next door. Pulling up Beattock, a steady climb: The gradient's against her, but she's on time. Past cotton-grass and moorland boulder Shovelling white steam over her shoulder, Snorting noisily as she passes Silent miles of wind-bent grasses. Birds turn their heads as she approaches, Stare from bushes at her blank-faced coaches. Sheep-dogs cannot turn her course; They slumber on with paws across. In the farm she passes no one wakes, But a jug in a bedroom gently shakes. II Dawn freshens, Her climb is done. Down towards Glasgow she descends, Towards the steam tugs yelping down a glade of cranes Towards the fields of apparatus, the furnaces Set on the dark plain like gigantic chessmen. All Scotland waits for her: In dark glens, beside pale-green lochs Men long for news. III Letters of thanks, letters from banks, Letters of joy from girl and boy, Receipted bills and invitations To inspect new stock or to visit relations, And applications for situations, And timid lovers' declarations, And gossip, gossip from all the nations, News circumstantial, news financial, Letters with holiday snaps to enlarge in, Letters with faces scrawled on the margin, Letters from uncles, cousins, and aunts, Letters to Scotland from the South of France, Letters of condolence to Highlands and Lowlands Written on paper of every hue, The pink, the violet, the white and the blue, The chatty, the catty, the boring, the adoring, The cold and official and the heart's outpouring, Clever, stupid, short and long, The typed and the printed and the spelt all wrong. IV Thousands are still asleep, Dreaming of terrifying monsters Or of friendly tea beside the band in Cranston's or Crawford's: Asleep in working Glasgow, asleep in well-set Edinburgh, Asleep in granite Aberdeen, They continue their dreams, But shall wake soon and hope for letters, And none will hear the postman's knock Without a quickening of the heart, For who can bear to feel himself forgotten?
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4.7k
Night Mail
I This is the night mail crossing the Border, Bringing the cheque and the postal order, Letters for the rich, letters for the poor, The shop at the corner, the girl next door. Pulling up Beattock, a steady climb: The gradient's against her, but she's on time. Past cotton-grass and moorland boulder Shovelling white steam over her shoulder, Snorting noisily as she passes Silent miles of wind-bent grasses. Birds turn their heads as she approaches, Stare from bushes at her blank-faced coaches. Sheep-dogs cannot turn her course; They slumber on with paws across. In the farm she passes no one wakes, But a jug in a bedroom gently shakes. II Dawn freshens, Her climb is done. Down towards Glasgow she descends, Towards the steam tugs yelping down a glade of cranes Towards the fields of apparatus, the furnaces Set on the dark plain like gigantic chessmen. All Scotland waits for her: In dark glens, beside pale-green lochs Men long for news. III Letters of thanks, letters from banks, Letters of joy from girl and boy, Receipted bills and invitations To inspect new stock or to visit relations, And applications for situations, And timid lovers' declarations, And gossip, gossip from all the nations, News circumstantial, news financial, Letters with holiday snaps to enlarge in, Letters with faces scrawled on the margin, Letters from uncles, cousins, and aunts, Letters to Scotland from the South of France, Letters of condolence to Highlands and Lowlands Written on paper of every hue, The pink, the violet, the white and the blue, The chatty, the catty, the boring, the adoring, The cold and official and the heart's outpouring, Clever, stupid, short and long, The typed and the printed and the spelt all wrong. IV Thousands are still asleep, Dreaming of terrifying monsters Or of friendly tea beside the band in Cranston's or Crawford's: Asleep in working Glasgow, asleep in well-set Edinburgh, Asleep in granite Aberdeen, They continue their dreams, But shall wake soon and hope for letters, And none will hear the postman's knock Without a quickening of the heart, For who can bear to feel himself forgotten?
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57
its new, its foreign your form I’m adoring your frown I’m scorning I just like the way you do you so unique, so new so hot and so blue so me but still you hand on my thigh as you drive down the avenue the first one to engrave their name in my heart the first man to deserve his part in my art of delusional confusion, idealistic intrusion with a sprinkle of disillusionment thought it wasn’t for me, too many days spent in existential worry wondering how it would work for me or if it would hurt me but I throw caution to the wind and trust my wings to maintain my grace on the breeze love is just as simple as it seems
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Nov 30, 2021
Nov 30, 2021 at 12:18 PM UTC
Simple Life
The sun hung low, sliding down below the trees, whose leaves had turned a golden yellow from autumn's adoring kiss. The clouds looked gray, seeming to bring in thunderstorms that weren't to come, at least not today. We spoke of mysteries, created poetry in our realizations, harmony fostered with the gentle breeze as we laughed. The aha's and uhuh's, the self-discovery and conceptualization, they were the sermons, the creed, the metanoia. The rooftop sunset was the sanctuary, the gust of wind the hymns, the moments of silence were moments of reverence, our spirituality birthed in the gravel under our feet. The world is our religion.
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Oct 28, 2014
Oct 28, 2014 at 2:05 AM UTC
Church
Pretty woman... So pretty you are... so wonderful... so beautiful... so special you are.. special just for me... only for me.. and all are so jealousy to me... jealousy because you are mine... pretty mine... pretty lady you are... pretty you are.... even more pretty than an angel you are... adored you... adoring you... will adore you forever... and never to get enough from you... pretty beautiful mine... never loved one as you... never imagined to love any one over you... never felt a feelings from another one than you... never got those warmth feelings before i know you... just got and felt it when i know you... pretty lady mine... best and great creature you are... created by a powerful... created by a grand God... created just to be mine... yes you are ... my pretty lady .. never saw as you before ... hazem al ..
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Jan 24, 2017
Jan 24, 2017 at 2:30 AM UTC
Pretty woman...
*wonder’s     joyous         heartfelt             smile, beauty’s     charming         expressive             style, delight’s     enchanting         debonair             attire, whimsy’s     gleeful         intimacy             afire, laughter’s     voice         lovesome             glow, gentility’s     engaging         graceful             show, love’s     adoring         kisses             embrace, hope’s     welcome         inspiring             grace, desire’s     playful         flirty             glance, passion’s     jubilant         fleeting             romance.*
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Nov 30, 2017
Nov 30, 2017 at 11:58 AM UTC
Him
All those songs about waking up in a lover's arms-- I don't know what they're talking about. Oh, I've known the happy wedding night mattress on the floor amid the stacks of packing boxes and the delicious view when the world narrows to a single cherished face. The bee, though, doesn't live inside the bloom, and goes still inside a jar. Touched on every side by an adoring indigo night, there is still just one Moon. Allow me morning alone in my garden with just my mug and dog. It doesn't mean I never loved you, or loved you less. There is only one dawn--this one and it only waits so long.
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Sep 17, 2025
Sep 17, 2025 at 5:16 PM UTC
Aubade II
enfolded in your abundant legs i find all the good things etched on the surface of your skin like an egyptian relief painting you are worth enough tears to flood the nile and re-write the way the marsh unfolds like the way i found you: verdant discoveries on sundays and new ways to say shadane pragmatic star girl i add your name to my mental thesarus like a new favorite word adoring and absorbing your lower-case expressions like second nature
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Sep 17, 2018
Sep 17, 2018 at 9:50 PM UTC
taking enjoyment and seeking good things
I really like to read poems all the time but its sad to say how few actually rhyme a lot of your poems i tend to find boring when they honestly should leave me adoring So if your up for the challenge and want to show me your talent then spit out a good rhyme way beyond its time So make me feel like im singing a song with ever last word i stumble upon so go now no time to waste spit out those rhymes in great haste P.S. please avoid copy and paste
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Apr 23, 2014
Apr 23, 2014 at 6:48 PM UTC
Rhyming and Timing
Oh yes, where to start….                             A Kiss behind the ear              trailing across the jaw                   a light sweep of lips across lips                        a catch of breath…                                moving down…. Fingers tracing every move….     soft wet kisses to the neck            ….are you feeling the groove?                  Slowly lips move from neck to chest                              as they lovingly adore               fingers lightly travel down                                            eager to explore…       Wet trailing kisses to the navel                fingers circling around chest       bringing forth trembling lightheaded sensations                     lips against skin, pressed…..                               Moving ever so slow….                                         *finger traces                                            circling tongue                                               lips adoring                                                  wet embraces                                              intensity flowing                                           curling toes                                         twitching muscles                                       heart pounding                                         breathless                                           out of body                                             a second of clarity                                               Sweet Release….*                                                       Good morning baby, shall we go on…….. ~ © 2017 Brianna Love/SA/DBMA
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Sep 18, 2017
Sep 18, 2017 at 7:06 PM UTC
Starting Point
Oh yes, where to start….                             A Kiss behind the ear              trailing across the jaw                   a light sweep of lips across lips                        a catch of breath…                                moving down…. Fingers tracing every move….     soft wet kisses to the neck            ….are you feeling the groove?                  Slowly lips move from neck to chest                              as they lovingly adore               fingers lightly travel down                                            eager to explore…       Wet trailing kisses to the navel                fingers circling around chest       bringing forth trembling lightheaded sensations                     lips against skin, pressed…..                               Moving ever so slow….                                         *finger traces                                            circling tongue                                               lips adoring                                                  wet embraces                                              intensity flowing                                           curling toes                                         twitching muscles                                       heart pounding                                         breathless                                           out of body                                             a second of clarity                                               Sweet Release….*                                                       Good morning baby, shall we go on…….. ~ © 2017 Brianna Love/SA/DBMA
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