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"animations" poems
An empty boat glides through a tide-less sea Echos of thunderous silence reminisces the rowdy sailors once on board Without fear they sailed across the dark waters Without the knowledge of forthcoming doom they kept the spirits high Navigation impaired by the wrath of silence, their abominable gaiety and preposterous hopes were muted for eternity Life drained, flesh rotted, bones crumbled to dust, and the boat was filled with peaceful death Though without an inhabitant it still continues to drift towards a predesitned chaos Its calm trail behind disrupted by an impatient tranquility Its still path ahead disallows all animations with an unfluent time Yet it moves forward
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Aug 14, 2018
Aug 14, 2018 at 12:19 PM UTC
An empty boat
Oh, what joy cats bring around. With paws and meows and purrs abound. Their petite size and cute faces Lead us humans to give them much embraces. GIFs and JIFs of cute animations Will let them lay down the world's new foundations. Long live the cats!
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Jun 12, 2014
Jun 12, 2014 at 1:29 PM UTC
Long live the cats!
Hello, Poetry Incorporated, how are you now, coming after the world's 3rd breakdown? Where do we go from here? Here beside us now, another gift after the deathly blows.After children entrusts us yet again pieces of their lives and deaths to us. A Japanese animation in the 1970s was banned somewhere offshore. Not just because the landowners who banned it was just evil, Nor because one was "better than the other". It was forbidden maybe because of many questions  still haunting us to and fro, beckoning us into living our lives fully, not because of the light and dark, but rather despite of it. Like the dark and beautifully frightening ocean tides that have capsized whaling ships and yet have given birth to all our species. Unlike many other animations, the banned show did not have crudely offensive content. It was a story of different people coming together inside a big machine and operating it as one as they manifest themselves as the Voltes Five.
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Sep 6, 2018
Sep 6, 2018 at 10:02 PM UTC
Hello, Poetry Incorporated
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
Continue reading...
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*Sacramental Elixir & Illuminated Blues, Experimental Flauntings Of Her Midsummer Hues, Radioactive Eyes & Her Fairytale Lies, Seductive Abuses Across The New Divide, Vivid Intersections In Her Phenomenal Rage, Shatterproof Reflections Splattered Upstage, Midnight Passions Of Her Perplexed Lust, Starlight Rains Glittering Hybrid Dusts, Transitional Paradigms & Engineered Moans, Theatrical Concoctions In Her Symphonic Tones, Flirtatious Illuminations Under The Darkest Light, Stained Animations Igniting Kryptonite, Palisades Of Her Collated Reflections, Cascades Emitting Her Sedated Projections, Contraband Infatuation Resonating Magnetic Love, Raving Constellations Provocating Atomic Dove, Divine Catharsis Of Her Cupid Amour Eternity, Valentine Bliss Mystifying Her Restrained Insanity, Charismatic Futility & ****** Binge, Cinematic Tranquility Emanating From Her Bulletproof Sins, Neon Subways & Fragile Foreplays, Sensual Arrays Of Her Red-Light Decays. - 03:53AM -*
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Mar 23, 2017
Mar 23, 2017 at 6:30 PM UTC
Elixir
We strings of parallel animations stand apart even if only by the merest measure; howbeit always of the same instrument, and we are eminent in the Grand Design. So as the human race resonates -frequently to the same tune- we try to stay in time. A silvery music plays unerringly when the softly strummed strings ring in harmony: but if as a note sustains and bends we hear the cry of waning demons and agents of evil that shriek in discord and in strife and in dark echoes of din, we leave them to haunt the arteries of Hell as a furious ember, while we saved souls rejoice in the pleasures of rapturous currents ebbing and flowing about very elegantly, like a swan -a swan upon a perpetual lake of timbre.
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Dec 4, 2014
Dec 4, 2014 at 2:49 PM UTC
Accordance
The darkened corners of forgotten yesterdays clouded the view as the gaping maw of need stared across the chasm at necessity .  Almost as if there was a reason for it’s contiguous constituency it reflected the myriad animations of it’s creator .  Crystalline forms in infinite diversity beyond the subjective sublimations of mass crowded the integral forms of it’s subjugated spontaneities perversions as the well of it’s unity sang of the cause for it’s being . The single-mindedness of it’s recumbent beginnings were all but lost to the ramifications of itself as the children of it’s repulsion waxed and waned .   The twinkling of an eye , the integration of ages , countless extrapolations of it’s *********** vanished into the nature of their being as the tainted refuse of their wanton progressions began their mutual processions back to the source , or wandered through the surrealistic ethereum of their eternally predestined nothingness . Causalities purity reigned as all became the reason for it’s own creation , and vanished into the implosion of it’s own ***********
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Jan 22, 2013
Jan 22, 2013 at 3:54 AM UTC
The Vanishing Point
gloom looks so good on you we're doomed. theres no room for two. a stagnent game of islolation ironic, chronic concentration on rainy days wet shadows play the melancholy dries away caught between a dying sun, a loaded gun, the ides of May. ****** ****** desolation injected with the sweet sensation in loving hate, you despise creation we are deep. unconscious. animations. i like, i hate, i love, i loath schizophrenic panic mode like me, hate me, love me cold. i watch the stars and stars implode.
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Sep 5, 2013
Sep 5, 2013 at 1:14 AM UTC
stars implode
Night is always still and being alone is reasonable stuck on a couch with hands in my pants like Al Bundy I enjoy the old animations to rekindle my youth At first I just knew it to be late night programming but now its a laughing fit for the bald and the lonely callers longing for that flirtatious, accepting voice How do they know the lonely are with the late night? When did the early hour become the time to persuade love, lust, and empowerment of oneself? the laughing stops and I wonder how much insecurity there must be under the distant stars How many of us wish we could go to sleep? maybe its that unbearable coldness on the other side of the bed
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Jun 11, 2013
Jun 11, 2013 at 6:19 AM UTC
How do they know?
The sparkling animations of man the creator: _glitter_ reflecting the inner source The forgetful companion forever drawn to Master's light, remains easily tamed by a starry night sky.
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Sep 26, 2018
Sep 26, 2018 at 9:54 PM UTC
"Sit; Roll over; Behold."
we each have our place to stand a place always present an aligned awareness and sacred connection joining dark to light.. discovery comes first then remembering.. forgetting is easy each place is hidden alignment broken.. sensing ones place intent brings focus a movement we notice shapes in motion.. surfaces rising then returning to rise again.. a torus in motion.. watch the jellyfsh its pulsing survival.. the web also instructs animations in splendid variety this sacred movement.. become the motion discover your own.. experience then a gentle rocking inhale centered and upward to brilliant light.. exhale light now filtered shadow and pain breathing unending.. a docking station now introduced.. awaits remembering intention for use.. check the circuits the cellular lights.. a new identity now fully alive ready connected and now to fly...
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Aug 23, 2012
Aug 23, 2012 at 10:08 PM UTC
docking station
This is a poem about being uncomfortable in your own skin. Think small spaces, Too warm, Too soon. A car crash. Being trapped in an elevator. Shifty eyes, pure white lies. Unclear shadows on a foggy night, salty wounds left open for much too long. Think about demolishing something, that is perfectly fine as is. Think about finally making love to the boy with the softest lips you have ever tasted And has those eyes, Those eyes, that remind you of home. Think about the buzz in the middle of your stomach And your eyes that oh so dramatically roll to the back of your head When your closest ones Pick apart and analyze every aspect of your decision, Critique By Critique. One Immoral Choice To The Next. This is a poem about mistakes that aren’t truly mistakes And lust and blood and bruises And passionate kisses and risky decisions And sleepless nights and dour girls. And broken mirrors and ripped pages. This is a poem about what has become your life. -andrea
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Jan 2, 2014
Jan 2, 2014 at 11:27 PM UTC
Animations
*Fairytale Evolutions, Terminating Digital Mutations, Simulated Sensations, Transcendent Revolutions, Hybrid Generations, Altering Stagnant Amplifications, Shape Shifting Constellations, Sterilizing Implications, Eliciting Blissful Animations, Decoding Kaleidoscopic Flirtations, Fabricating Holographic Dimensions, Reflecting Labyrinth Ramifications, Transgressional Diversifications, Empathetic Extortion, Serene Distortion, Subversive Contortion, Forging Conceptual Inoculations Violating Illusionary Variations, Incarnating Prototype Deviations, Radiating Subtle Speculations, Catalyzing Crystallized Civilizations. -01:09AM*
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Feb 28, 2017
Feb 28, 2017 at 2:57 PM UTC
Prelude 3.0
in utter radiance two bodies meld, in decadent tenderness; emanating from one another in mindless bliss, like silken sheets fluttering in a midsummer day breeze; flapping out a heart's symphony as each mellifluous tune is carried along effortlessly of fallen petals in an upward warm wind...alluring when lips touch their essence is as delicate and soft as a newborn's first breath and visions of meadows as burbling brooks eke out nature's wonderous animations of life; hidden amongst conifers naked seedling in cones of yews procreative life...caressed eyes gaze upon one another in trancelike looks of longing; in ponderance of love's accepting embrace, to feel it's enraptured warmth; skyrocketing moans in resonating tremors of gossamery affection...cloud nine emerging gasps are born to undulate in waves; awakening love's cupidity to be forever within one another's limelight, delighting each other's ambiance of life's many truisms; our spirits bountiful and serene as we live and love in our own paradise on earth...in spirituality becoming excited in our veracity to understanding the complexities of love and living in moments of bliss; standing still vacuumed, absorbing one another's vitality to be as one, soulmates until heart and mind collide in hungering want; holding onto thoughts only we can see within one another's eyes...heavenly love
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Jun 12, 2012
Jun 12, 2012 at 3:54 AM UTC
A Soulmate's Thoughts
Last night I dreamt that Google was celebrating me through one of its doodles. It was the simplest of them all, the most ordinary and vanilla - common as a rock, low-pitched with a cherry on top. You clicked on it and it didn't have any answers. It showed nothing. No sound was added, no funky animations, no gamification. Corny and simple. I think they did a pretty good job in celebrating me.
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Jun 22, 2017
Jun 22, 2017 at 5:53 AM UTC
#googlization
Your parents are.... The Most Awesome people you have ever actually ever known right now In your world on the Earth as we know it - Parents hung on, made do, but hung on Kept up hope, The living The one-time They out lived 1000s of years of evolution, war and resolution The lineage of The Earth if they're still going; Why aren't you? Breed or be Bred Automatons Animations the forgotten spark You are what You are Just... don't forget where you came from
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Nov 2, 2013
Nov 2, 2013 at 1:04 PM UTC
Parents
Can we hold a breath, some are like dandelions. The seeds may disperse, and we may try to clasp upon them. We may tenure a few, but nevertheless only certain animations may linger. But even though we may lose so many. The ones we have will grow, and even though some dissipated beyond our reach. A flower of memories breathe on in the wind flourishing brighter than before.
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Nov 6, 2020
Nov 6, 2020 at 6:19 AM UTC
Memories Are Like Breathes
The tree, standing there throughout the centuries, Only moving to follow the idle sun and water. Oh tree of all seasons, dost thou never get tired, Of being the abode of many animations? Of being the provider, without there being much provisions for thee? Of the many generations that tread the to their own wishes? Of being forever in one spot? Thou tree of such soothing wisdom, How many have cried to thee, and thou hast given them solace? How many have wronged thee, and thou hast forgiven? Thou uncomplaining tree, I admire thine own patience, That neither tempest nor malice gestures canst shake. Wilt thou please tell me of thine own secret of perseverance? Oh tree of many seasons, I admire thine own, Freedom from prejudices. Oh generous tree, wilt thou please tell me of thy flowers? That thou has wrought through a Mighty Power. Oh how honored I am to have witnessed such majesty.     Thine grace is as permanent as time itself. And one day I shall give a true account of thy accomplishments. Thankful I am for thy verse, For I, as a traveler, would be lost without it in the universe.
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Jan 20, 2014
Jan 20, 2014 at 1:57 AM UTC
The Tree
I've seen the glass of your eyes, as the glow brightly of a reflecting despair, Desires of a searching heart; still unfound as we've gone a couple rounds To a cost of pleasure, divided in equal parts; we are the amount of a harmonic ****** found Seeking multiplication; hopefully not by mistake, and parasites at the most, feeding on each other's side longing to kiss your face, and losing my tongue in that secret place To make the sweetest of love- a wright, a maker ironically who messes up your make up, So wrong of me in such a feeling that feels so right, a cloud of the night, who covers your eyes to the atmosphere, Whether we weather this together, it isn't a goal of mine, to get you to any point of dryness And with all these kisses made of wine; red lips of passion, with all of the kisses that don't taste less of the finest Our silhouettes will be animations of our character, climbing into bed lastly; as the final step of foreplay's ladder I'm a little old fashioned, wearing myself down, and wrinkling time with the intentions of leaving lines on your body matter No matter; we'd play prior movie scenes with a little more action, holding onto a moment in a body's lens- let's capture The best parts of ourselves, for the best never lasts too long, so we'd try to get the catchy parts to reminisce on its chorus Like every popular and trending love song, but I'm spending too much time on my own words Especially for someone who has been waiting for so long, so we'd best play into our desires like playing that song,                             _"baby, let's get it on"_
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Aug 22, 2023
Aug 22, 2023 at 5:17 PM UTC
Marvin Gaye, {a poem inspired by a song}
I've seen the glass of your eyes, as the glow brightly of a reflecting despair, Desires of a searching heart; still unfound as we've gone a couple rounds To a cost of pleasure, divided in equal parts; we are the amount of a harmonic ****** found Seeking multiplication; hopefully not by mistake, and parasites at the most, feeding on each other's side longing to kiss your face, and losing my tongue in that secret place To make the sweetest of love- a wright, a maker ironically who messes up your make up, So wrong of me in such a feeling that feels so right, a cloud of the night, who covers your eyes to the atmosphere, Whether we weather this together, it isn't a goal of mine, to get you to any point of dryness And with all these kisses made of wine; red lips of passion, with all of the kisses that don't taste less of the finest Our silhouettes will be animations of our character, climbing into bed lastly; as the final step of foreplay's ladder I'm a little old fashioned, wearing myself down, and wrinkling time with the intentions of leaving lines on your body matter No matter; we'd play prior movie scenes with a little more action, holding onto a moment in a body's lens- let's capture The best parts of ourselves, for the best never lasts too long, so we'd try to get the catchy parts to reminisce on its chorus Like every popular and trending love song, but I'm spending too much time on my own words Especially for someone who has been waiting for so long, so we'd best play into our desires like playing that song,                             _"baby, let's get it on"_
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Enough is waiting for one Enough is the searching for answers Enough are the sacrifises made Enough being treated like dirt Enough are the lonely nights Enough are the days crying out for a smile Enough are fulfilling others dreams Enough are these animations It was an interim, Now its time to Taste the untasted,Try the untried Feel the unfelt,Do the undone See the unseen,live the unlived Its not much but its enough To smoke my emotions To pull me out of this illusion To teach me the ugly truth I found an inception to my life The pursuit of hapiness has begun. I give you two choices watch me or join me.
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Mar 7, 2014
Mar 7, 2014 at 11:35 AM UTC
A fresh start
Shadows like severed limbs creep on pallid, festering fingers to surround me, The strains of terror-filled, bloodcurdling screams rip through me. Then your face before me, making grey sketches morph into technicolour animations. I feel perversely happy in that moment. Your lips curl upwards, a snarl; a sneer appears, You stare, glare, for heavy seconds, searing straight through me; you never did see me I suppose. You stare, and you stare, and you stare. I cease to exist. One excruciating second more; your eyes upon mine. You walk away, and everything is black, unmoving. You always said it, you always told me: "I will let you down".
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Dec 1, 2011
Dec 1, 2011 at 4:02 PM UTC
Untitled
these are the moments it's said. the quiet the grass, the dirt, beneath me. the breeze a touch cold these are the seconds the transient frame-by-frame animations slowed a thousand fold. Everyone is connected I swear life is a game of limbo of cat's cradle. I swear these are the pauses the breaks the breaths in between. all the chains: these chords, these connections, these links curled around our ankles. I swear. these are the moments i'm alone.
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Jun 4, 2013
Jun 4, 2013 at 10:36 PM UTC
Alone
three beers in the morning and i'm, as usual, laughing into them, i'm reading an article about a girl drinking her way into credit card debt, fun moments at the bar, and blackouts; me? i practice the arithmetic of memory all the time, every time i wake up i keep my eyes closed and recount my dreams, or past experiences, it's hard, i know, it's not as easy as remembering a, b, c, 1, 2, 3, that's easy, with memory you have to filter out inanimate things, they're always going to be there, you want to cherish the animations, and there's no encoding of that as you might encode reciting a word or the number of miles using the above stress symbols - memory is a tough one, it's so poorly developed / nurtured that people had to create imagination, a fictive awareness; me? i like memorising my life, i think it was great, so far, so too tomorrow; drinking hardly impairs some of your cognitive faculties, given you can bellow out a pig's laugh while drinking on your own; but i say, being bilingual, not able to read philosophy in english, i have this terrible black hole of not being able to remember the names of the months in polish... January February through to December via October is fine... but Styczeń, Luty, Marzec... huh? and i still can't be bothered to remember the alphabetical sequence... what's the point? you see a monkey dancing on the cranium of a dancing bear anywhere? me neither, i'd sequence the letters as: a, e, i, o, u... b... etc.
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Mar 15, 2016
Mar 15, 2016 at 7:30 AM UTC
three beers in the morning
The darkened corners of forgotten yesterdays clouded the view as the gaping maw of need stared across the chasm at necessity .  Almost as if there was a reason for its contiguous constituency it reflected the myriad animations of its creator .  Crystalline forms in infinite diversity beyond the subjective sublimations of mass crowded the integral forms of its subjugated spontaneities perversions as the well of its unity sang of the cause for its being . The single-mindedness of its recumbent beginnings were all but lost to the ramifications of itself as the children of its repulsion waxed and waned .   The twinkling of an eye , the integration of ages , countless extrapolations of its *********** vanished into the nature of their being as the tainted refuse of their wanton progressions began their mutual processions back to the source , or wandered through the surrealistic ethereum of their eternally predestined nothingness . Causalities purity reigned as all became the reason for its own creation , and vanished into the implosion of its own ***********
0
Nov 24, 2021
Nov 24, 2021 at 3:27 PM UTC
The Vanishing Point