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"antimatter" poems
Antimatter mirroring our existance on the pathway of a reverse world Imagine it, time stands still, halts without a will to  continue its flow if it were to possess one to begin with, and everything is but fragile, Illusionary moon, shine on in this distorted realm in which not even gravity is reliable or even trustworthy at this point, up is down here, An imperishable night caught under a spell of eternity, uninterrupted Everlasting, permanently shining, the fake moons appearance is clear, Unremitting, sweetly told as a if it was a lie, the rumours of this world spread more likely like a disease through the ancient, young earth, A line parallel drawn to ours, a dimension coexisting without sense, It appears to be fragile, like a newborn child, the smallest disturbance would mostlikely ruin it's balance, bring tremor upon it wretchedly, But where that life sparkles as then fades, two dimensions surely would overlap, of course, maybe it will be the world you inhabit, no? In the realm of the dead, a loitering, lingering darkness thins the borders of reality and illusion, causing them to exist as one, now with the same heart and soul, a fantasy heaven which became reality, After all, that place is only temporary,one surely could even call it a; Short living eternity, ~ Umi
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Mar 26, 2018
Mar 26, 2018 at 7:57 PM UTC
Short living Eternity
Psychopath, questioned and played with, complex mind games with Paper fortune tellers and crystal ***** utilized by con artists. Chrome decorated room filled with trippy, grippy, grabby men With blue cats swimming around their head. Coherent words do not exist to them. Sucrose breaks you down, sweet creature, and thieves the antimatter in your empty scull. Your favorite song no longer passes through your hollow ears. Notes and the beats... A heartbeat. The thrum of a low piano key in a house supposed To be isolated and abandoned. You are not alone here, child. The demons summoned her because of the lettered board between a mattress And box spring. The springs are broken from too much activity, Don't jump on the soiled mattress. That's how you receive punishment. But one without two does not match the storybook your mother read to you. The nauseating tale of role,play and ********** Everyone knows the story, seen the Disney. You can run, but you can't hide from the memories of horrible visions Given to you by the gods. Hold on, child. You will grow to be a man one day Despite the nightmare of being a wolf child who clawed his way out of his mothers womb. Jolt and sweat, forgotten top bunk , and a concussion; The dreams are back. The recurring realities of a twin long lost, but somehow inside. Dream catchers don't make the callback list, can't act for the life of them, but They are beautiful against the scenery. A porcelain doll holds the demon that hacked my system and took controll of my history, And once again, she takes my place, fooling everyone into thinking I am here When, in reality, I am buried six feet under. Blood dribbles from the letters chilled into my stone, I curl and let them add more letters into My back to symbolize the life I led. The collection of poems I wrote about you are the ones they Cut into the skin on my legs, permanent reminders of what I have felt. "What have you felt?"
0
Dec 17, 2013
Dec 17, 2013 at 10:13 AM UTC
Interrogate
Psychopath, questioned and played with, complex mind games with Paper fortune tellers and crystal ***** utilized by con artists. Chrome decorated room filled with trippy, grippy, grabby men With blue cats swimming around their head. Coherent words do not exist to them. Sucrose breaks you down, sweet creature, and thieves the antimatter in your empty scull. Your favorite song no longer passes through your hollow ears. Notes and the beats... A heartbeat. The thrum of a low piano key in a house supposed To be isolated and abandoned. You are not alone here, child. The demons summoned her because of the lettered board between a mattress And box spring. The springs are broken from too much activity, Don't jump on the soiled mattress. That's how you receive punishment. But one without two does not match the storybook your mother read to you. The nauseating tale of role,play and ********** Everyone knows the story, seen the Disney. You can run, but you can't hide from the memories of horrible visions Given to you by the gods. Hold on, child. You will grow to be a man one day Despite the nightmare of being a wolf child who clawed his way out of his mothers womb. Jolt and sweat, forgotten top bunk , and a concussion; The dreams are back. The recurring realities of a twin long lost, but somehow inside. Dream catchers don't make the callback list, can't act for the life of them, but They are beautiful against the scenery. A porcelain doll holds the demon that hacked my system and took controll of my history, And once again, she takes my place, fooling everyone into thinking I am here When, in reality, I am buried six feet under. Blood dribbles from the letters chilled into my stone, I curl and let them add more letters into My back to symbolize the life I led. The collection of poems I wrote about you are the ones they Cut into the skin on my legs, permanent reminders of what I have felt. "What have you felt?"
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27
Today I learnt that after the Big Bang, there was antimatter, the mirror image of matter. Antimatter and matter destroyed each other when they met, thus they annihilated everything in their path, and the universe was left almost empty. And I thought about how your touch against my skin, brought the same catastrophic destruction. And the universe inside of me, was left in pieces, only to be visible through vacant eyes and unfinished poetry. In your wake, you left pieces of you embedded into my skin, jagged scars of memories I tried to claw out of my bones. You tore at my skin with your spitting words yet I held you close during your goodbye. *"We are opposite poles of a world I long to know."* You were beautiful, and I was never brilliant enough.
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Aug 15, 2014
Aug 15, 2014 at 8:06 PM UTC
Nebula
Newton, Shakespeare and Lady Day on the shoulders of giants I totter science technology and poetry politics media and philosophy layer on layer of ideology collide like matter and antimatter. Rules from school and infancy loyalty influence and love. You ask me what makes me tick. The clock ticks. My watch ticks. I quietly wonder - tick, tick, tick.
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Nov 18, 2015
Nov 18, 2015 at 6:03 AM UTC
I Wonder
Let’s go to an antimatter universe Where hot ice solidifies Under the black light of the freezing sun. A world where short giraffes hide beneath The tall grass, amongst low trees. See those high plains, watery deserts and low mountains. Slow flies crawl over red skies As turtles and tortoises speed around. Here, hot sun is an oxymoron And everything is downside up. Or if you prefer we could visit a realm Like on “Red Dwarf” Where time flies backwards: People formed from dusty death To live and grow youthful On the way to an inevitable birth And death again When parental **** parts from ***** Paul Butters
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Aug 15, 2017
Aug 15, 2017 at 4:50 AM UTC
Antimatter Universe
Galactic curls in spirals swirl, entwining twisted mystery, where time unrolls in blackened holes, no longer bright and blistery, but writ like runes on starry dunes enclosed in cosmic history Galactic dust, from novas' gusts, congesting empty spaces once fatefully flung beyond the tongue of burnt out astral traces, may recompress and coalesce in distant times and places Galactic dwarves, like ancient wharves with silent planets mooring yet still in spin though long done in, hide flares no longer soaring - magnetic webs of eons ebb, in thermal fusion roaring Galactic tides warp space divides, call forth sublime creation while bending clocks in rippled shocks, unfolding time dilation that seems to crown the flowing gown of pulsars' pulsed gyration Galactic stew, a seething brew, midst background noise and chatter like Chaos reigns, the sole remains of missing antimatter, with just a trace to form a space-time, curved or somewhat flatter Galactic glue holds something new: dark energy and matter that interacts and counteracts the ancient Big Bang splatter: a cosmic soup of strings and loops, a universal batter Galactic life's replete and rife 'neath lactic milky wafer, though solar gales leave unseen trails of cosmic rays, the strafer; but nonetheless, one must confess, it seems there's nowhere safer
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Aug 21, 2016
Aug 21, 2016 at 8:54 AM UTC
Galactic Glimpses
From his explosions, Our sun spreads antimatter Into the cosmos And orbits around the core Of the immense Milky Way To make a low-speed cyclone. Poem by Marieta Maglas
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Oct 8, 2015
Oct 8, 2015 at 4:06 PM UTC
Spiral Motion (Bussokusekika Poetry)
A red bird has flown soaring in the great height of the purple sky. The thrilling scream was as a shrill cry on the soundtrack. The bird has disappeared into the sky, and all it could be heard was the sound. That cold sound became fluid in the ears. A forked green lightning following a zigzagging pattern appeared from an antimatter space. The eyes fixed wide-open up, and the mouths kept silent. A ship has left the dock to disappear in the mobile horizon. It seemingly disappeared and reappeared based on where the eyes were looking; the eyes were not able to leave the dock. When the ship could not be seen, a prolonged blast could be heard. Finally, the ship disappeared in an antimatter space, where cold could illuminate and beat the heat to burn everything as we beat the heat with icy cold neck wraps. The eyes fixed wide-open toward, and red screams grew from open mouths. The sun lost its strength to become redder than it was before. In the twilight, its disk disappeared below the mobile horizon. Its power was in the spirit and the matter of the freezing cold. The eyes were unable to see where the sun was going. In the soft and purple mist, they looked like little amethyst stones. The violet light slowed down in the water much more than the red light refracted. The waves of alternating strength in electric and magnetic fields moved around the Earth in the tick of a clock. The mouths murmured, but the anti-sound made them all be quiet. From an airplane in the sky, the eyes could see two rainbows with colors in opposite order forming a complete circle. The eyes could move up and down to see the red light that refracted out of the droplets at steeper angles than the blue light. The mind could imagine another rainbow made of complementary light wavelengths such as green, blue, violet, red, orange, yellow-orange and yellow. The sea shone brightly as a sky full of red and bluish comets having tails like trains carrying hydrogen cyanide. Strange, sharp and cutting words wounded the mouths stopping the thoughts to breathe.
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Jul 16, 2013
Jul 16, 2013 at 8:14 PM UTC
Antimatter (Neo Surrealist Poem)
A red bird has flown soaring in the great height of the purple sky. The thrilling scream was as a shrill cry on the soundtrack. The bird has disappeared into the sky, and all it could be heard was the sound. That cold sound became fluid in the ears. A forked green lightning following a zigzagging pattern appeared from an antimatter space. The eyes fixed wide-open up, and the mouths kept silent. A ship has left the dock to disappear in the mobile horizon. It seemingly disappeared and reappeared based on where the eyes were looking; the eyes were not able to leave the dock. When the ship could not be seen, a prolonged blast could be heard. Finally, the ship disappeared in an antimatter space, where cold could illuminate and beat the heat to burn everything as we beat the heat with icy cold neck wraps. The eyes fixed wide-open toward, and red screams grew from open mouths. The sun lost its strength to become redder than it was before. In the twilight, its disk disappeared below the mobile horizon. Its power was in the spirit and the matter of the freezing cold. The eyes were unable to see where the sun was going. In the soft and purple mist, they looked like little amethyst stones. The violet light slowed down in the water much more than the red light refracted. The waves of alternating strength in electric and magnetic fields moved around the Earth in the tick of a clock. The mouths murmured, but the anti-sound made them all be quiet. From an airplane in the sky, the eyes could see two rainbows with colors in opposite order forming a complete circle. The eyes could move up and down to see the red light that refracted out of the droplets at steeper angles than the blue light. The mind could imagine another rainbow made of complementary light wavelengths such as green, blue, violet, red, orange, yellow-orange and yellow. The sea shone brightly as a sky full of red and bluish comets having tails like trains carrying hydrogen cyanide. Strange, sharp and cutting words wounded the mouths stopping the thoughts to breathe.
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33
i knew from a young age nothing could love me. i knew when everything began, when elemental dust condensed into planets, when life fought itself into existence in the waters of a cooling world, when the first being exulted in being and i exulted too and crushed it for daring to live. watched it decompose in my palm. rotted roses by plucking them. i knew from a young age that nothing survived my touch, that nothing lived in my hands - nothing’s the only thing i’ve ever held without killing. so see, we’re meant to be, you and i, nothing boy – let me hold you close cause i can’t rot you through, you with your lack of self and meaning, you with your infinite void, impenetrable ether. see, we’re meant to be, nothing boy, let me swim in your vacancy and you, you can be my new universe and nothing will be my everything: i’ll worship you like an absent father and love you like an atheist’s god. see we’re meant to be, nothing boy, i would **** 2000 statues to bring you to me. i would slaughter a family of worms to be crushed in your black hole. i crushed the stars between my thighs, left the triturated mess like a promise to the world. i crushed the stars between my thighs, but i’ll be so careful with you, nothing boy. so gentle you won’t even know i’m there, like a ghost sighing over your mouth. so careful you won’t notice me making my nest in your empty chest, breathing for you, pulling air to pool in your lungs. see we’re meant to be, nothing boy: i complete you and you empty me. see we’re meant to be, nothing boy, nothing doesn’t rot - my gangrene heart can’t touch yours, pure as it is, undefiled, unadulterated, a vacuum of a heart as empty as an unfilled grave. they say there’s a black hole at the center of every galaxy, in the center of a ring of stars light drawn to the dark. they say there’s a black hole at the center and if they’re right you’re the last good thing about this galaxy. stars swarm round you like flies, nothing boy, you who are made of their dead brothers, who collapsed into themselves with the weight of existence, who imploded with the heat of their desire for you, who fed their light to your blackness, nothing boy. you are made of dead stars and of nothing at all. you are celestial corpses and nihilism distilled. see we’re meant to be, nothing boy. you’re corpses and i’m rot. you’re nothing and i’m the final destination the last stop for sorry living creatures, pitiful things that can’t quite delete themselves, can’t quite reach you so i embrace them and soothe their sobs. see we’re meant to be, nothing boy, i can hold you for more than a few pitiful sobbing seconds. i can hold you forever if you let me. see we’re meant to be, nothing boy. i killed the world but you remain. i crushed the galaxy between my thighs, and you, impassive, pulled the triturated mess into your event horizon. see we’re meant to be, nothing boy, you have no breaths to steal but i’ll give you all i’ve plundered. i’ll give you every last breath, last word, last heartbeat, and you can empty me like a bottle of cheap wine. see we’re meant to be – nothing boy and gangrene girl, a love story for fatalists and nihilists alike. see we’re meant to be, nothing boy, starcorpse creature, nietzsche’s son. see we’re meant to be, nothing boy - nothing never rots nothing never dies nothing won’t decompose in my arms. see we’re meant to be, nothing boy. let me hold you close- you’re the one thing i can’t break.
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Mar 9, 2013
Mar 9, 2013 at 12:50 AM UTC
antimatter
i knew from a young age nothing could love me. i knew when everything began, when elemental dust condensed into planets, when life fought itself into existence in the waters of a cooling world, when the first being exulted in being and i exulted too and crushed it for daring to live. watched it decompose in my palm. rotted roses by plucking them. i knew from a young age that nothing survived my touch, that nothing lived in my hands - nothing’s the only thing i’ve ever held without killing. so see, we’re meant to be, you and i, nothing boy – let me hold you close cause i can’t rot you through, you with your lack of self and meaning, you with your infinite void, impenetrable ether. see, we’re meant to be, nothing boy, let me swim in your vacancy and you, you can be my new universe and nothing will be my everything: i’ll worship you like an absent father and love you like an atheist’s god. see we’re meant to be, nothing boy, i would **** 2000 statues to bring you to me. i would slaughter a family of worms to be crushed in your black hole. i crushed the stars between my thighs, left the triturated mess like a promise to the world. i crushed the stars between my thighs, but i’ll be so careful with you, nothing boy. so gentle you won’t even know i’m there, like a ghost sighing over your mouth. so careful you won’t notice me making my nest in your empty chest, breathing for you, pulling air to pool in your lungs. see we’re meant to be, nothing boy: i complete you and you empty me. see we’re meant to be, nothing boy, nothing doesn’t rot - my gangrene heart can’t touch yours, pure as it is, undefiled, unadulterated, a vacuum of a heart as empty as an unfilled grave. they say there’s a black hole at the center of every galaxy, in the center of a ring of stars light drawn to the dark. they say there’s a black hole at the center and if they’re right you’re the last good thing about this galaxy. stars swarm round you like flies, nothing boy, you who are made of their dead brothers, who collapsed into themselves with the weight of existence, who imploded with the heat of their desire for you, who fed their light to your blackness, nothing boy. you are made of dead stars and of nothing at all. you are celestial corpses and nihilism distilled. see we’re meant to be, nothing boy. you’re corpses and i’m rot. you’re nothing and i’m the final destination the last stop for sorry living creatures, pitiful things that can’t quite delete themselves, can’t quite reach you so i embrace them and soothe their sobs. see we’re meant to be, nothing boy, i can hold you for more than a few pitiful sobbing seconds. i can hold you forever if you let me. see we’re meant to be, nothing boy. i killed the world but you remain. i crushed the galaxy between my thighs, and you, impassive, pulled the triturated mess into your event horizon. see we’re meant to be, nothing boy, you have no breaths to steal but i’ll give you all i’ve plundered. i’ll give you every last breath, last word, last heartbeat, and you can empty me like a bottle of cheap wine. see we’re meant to be – nothing boy and gangrene girl, a love story for fatalists and nihilists alike. see we’re meant to be, nothing boy, starcorpse creature, nietzsche’s son. see we’re meant to be, nothing boy - nothing never rots nothing never dies nothing won’t decompose in my arms. see we’re meant to be, nothing boy. let me hold you close- you’re the one thing i can’t break.
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122
Taking a deep drag from a Chillum, I gazed at its structure made of pure soil and water. I do that every time I decide to take a ride into space. Closing my eyes I take a drag to burn all the herb, And the smoke creates the scene my eyes wished to percieve, Distance to far away galaxies is hard to achieve, But hyperdrive makes it a bit easier, I love its grace. I catch the speed of light, Ive made a slight change in the drive systems a year before. All this for what.? To touch the fading past and bring it back to life. If I raise my speed even by 1 mm per second now I will be faster than light, Oh but look, Theres comes a black hole, It wants to hold me in its grasp.!! But hey devil, I am fast, But then the stars laugh, And then the mirror like nebula at a safe distance from the black hole, But Enormous enough to show my reflection, Shows me that I am stagnant in the gravity of the black matter. **** I didnt take with me the machine to soak energy from antimatter. Even after this speed when I was so close to touch the waivering past, Plans were at the point to undergo failure without a plan be to save it, To touch the before and come again into now was the decision, At this frightening moment I laugh at my frivolous precision, All that i can do now are three things, Stay stagnant here with this speed, Slow down and end up giving myself in the gravity of black hole, Or boost ahead to stay in the past forever. Fate and time tease me creating this sarcastic moment and enjoy this entertaining view, And then I give a confident smile before opening my eyes, sitting in the present, saying, "That was so close. PHEW.!"
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Jan 26, 2014
Jan 26, 2014 at 5:38 AM UTC
Time & Fate VS Mr. Frivolous
Taking a deep drag from a Chillum, I gazed at its structure made of pure soil and water. I do that every time I decide to take a ride into space. Closing my eyes I take a drag to burn all the herb, And the smoke creates the scene my eyes wished to percieve, Distance to far away galaxies is hard to achieve, But hyperdrive makes it a bit easier, I love its grace. I catch the speed of light, Ive made a slight change in the drive systems a year before. All this for what.? To touch the fading past and bring it back to life. If I raise my speed even by 1 mm per second now I will be faster than light, Oh but look, Theres comes a black hole, It wants to hold me in its grasp.!! But hey devil, I am fast, But then the stars laugh, And then the mirror like nebula at a safe distance from the black hole, But Enormous enough to show my reflection, Shows me that I am stagnant in the gravity of the black matter. **** I didnt take with me the machine to soak energy from antimatter. Even after this speed when I was so close to touch the waivering past, Plans were at the point to undergo failure without a plan be to save it, To touch the before and come again into now was the decision, At this frightening moment I laugh at my frivolous precision, All that i can do now are three things, Stay stagnant here with this speed, Slow down and end up giving myself in the gravity of black hole, Or boost ahead to stay in the past forever. Fate and time tease me creating this sarcastic moment and enjoy this entertaining view, And then I give a confident smile before opening my eyes, sitting in the present, saying, "That was so close. PHEW.!"
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28
*god, ive never seen a girl that empty.* pathetic, hollow skin in unwashed jeans.a blown egg, empty casket cracking sidewalk.im lonely but i can play the part, bravado biting the sky like lightning but you can hear your own breath echoing in me when you sit too close. im a mine shaft, im stale air and stone. i dug myself empty when i tried to believe i need no one but myself.i don't need anyone else.blisters on my heels, thoughts on self-defeat, self-pity, self-immolation compared to arson. when you pulled out all my teeth you told me it was so i could kiss you fuller, deeper; you said *now you dont have to be afraid. now you cant hurt me.* it rained last night but i thought this was a drought year, should i feel something? i slept through the thunder.GOD, i hate thinking about this, i hate these harness ribs hate air pockets in my chest i cant take this pressure. when youre leaning down to kiss his lighter i'm sending you 50 texts that all say the same thing, accoutrements of disorientation, swollen fingers. i dont think i'm doing this right.i think i'm a different person every time i get dressed in the morning, every time i sleep.all the words ive misheard  stack up like unfinished manuscripts, like letters from neglected friends. this was wrong when it started and now it's just confused. hoarding matches, hoarding lighters like that'll save me from the rain. think about the bones beneath your flesh.think about the sturdy rock within your soft thighs. think about your liver.think about your bloodyourskinyourmeat. think about the last time you spoke with feeling. think about the last time you dreamt. remember when you said you wanted all of me? said you felt afraid, you said sometimes you feel like i could eat you alive, reaching over my event horizon, leaning towards antimatter lips. why did you call yourself a storm you're only hurting yourself? why did you call me an earthquake when i'm the only one im ripping apart. you keep sticking your tongue down the throats of people who just want to bite it off.
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Aug 31, 2014
Aug 31, 2014 at 6:28 PM UTC
decompression sickness
*god, ive never seen a girl that empty.* pathetic, hollow skin in unwashed jeans.a blown egg, empty casket cracking sidewalk.im lonely but i can play the part, bravado biting the sky like lightning but you can hear your own breath echoing in me when you sit too close. im a mine shaft, im stale air and stone. i dug myself empty when i tried to believe i need no one but myself.i don't need anyone else.blisters on my heels, thoughts on self-defeat, self-pity, self-immolation compared to arson. when you pulled out all my teeth you told me it was so i could kiss you fuller, deeper; you said *now you dont have to be afraid. now you cant hurt me.* it rained last night but i thought this was a drought year, should i feel something? i slept through the thunder.GOD, i hate thinking about this, i hate these harness ribs hate air pockets in my chest i cant take this pressure. when youre leaning down to kiss his lighter i'm sending you 50 texts that all say the same thing, accoutrements of disorientation, swollen fingers. i dont think i'm doing this right.i think i'm a different person every time i get dressed in the morning, every time i sleep.all the words ive misheard  stack up like unfinished manuscripts, like letters from neglected friends. this was wrong when it started and now it's just confused. hoarding matches, hoarding lighters like that'll save me from the rain. think about the bones beneath your flesh.think about the sturdy rock within your soft thighs. think about your liver.think about your bloodyourskinyourmeat. think about the last time you spoke with feeling. think about the last time you dreamt. remember when you said you wanted all of me? said you felt afraid, you said sometimes you feel like i could eat you alive, reaching over my event horizon, leaning towards antimatter lips. why did you call yourself a storm you're only hurting yourself? why did you call me an earthquake when i'm the only one im ripping apart. you keep sticking your tongue down the throats of people who just want to bite it off.
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39
From out of space my love re appeared and fast I ran away disbelieving. while hunted by webs of predators in greed modes trashing impeccable character inborn parenthood trait  courage, heart skill grace, as weapons eluding chase avating jealousy outface. Each grotesque stunt   trampled me to fall in pain. losing all crops of my hard labour scenarious so turbulent to depict. in any story poetry or book My love spark within outlived travesty and misery sent in. From an ancient love spell propelled a new lovers aim following me with grace deep as space, honor truth understanding patience Twin loss, twin dreams Experiences base the glue. Large as the cosmos we both Phathom, thirst, crave and love. Synchronicity in telepathy; the cosmos conspires offering cards to read virtual modes to explore our receptiveness. Our loving is a Deja-VU indeed. An ancient powerhouse, with outworldly, genetic legacies We both share in our weave. a hybrid mutant Adam and Eve. Who's my mystic beloved?A brightest star over Jaipur! Intergalactic, art at heart. Poet verse, he's honey bee. His aim is firm as his name He is me I am him within! similar avatar in the outside We tingle a double mystic smile. A magnetic vortex keep us both In one LOVEz voyage loop, through space.🐝🐝🛸. His vessel his gates his hands His mind,heart, soul is my own. Nothing and no one can pull us apart, we call HP our time machine to beyond Alpha Century bound. Thus, a billion stars cinthilate with gentle beams of hope Antimatter lovers lane And our heart Rd-Ad our home.🦋🦋. ~~~~ By: Karijinbba. Inspired by- Good better best MOI.
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Aug 5, 2021
Aug 5, 2021 at 11:33 AM UTC
Antimatter lovers lane
From out of space my love re appeared and fast I ran away disbelieving. while hunted by webs of predators in greed modes trashing impeccable character inborn parenthood trait  courage, heart skill grace, as weapons eluding chase avating jealousy outface. Each grotesque stunt   trampled me to fall in pain. losing all crops of my hard labour scenarious so turbulent to depict. in any story poetry or book My love spark within outlived travesty and misery sent in. From an ancient love spell propelled a new lovers aim following me with grace deep as space, honor truth understanding patience Twin loss, twin dreams Experiences base the glue. Large as the cosmos we both Phathom, thirst, crave and love. Synchronicity in telepathy; the cosmos conspires offering cards to read virtual modes to explore our receptiveness. Our loving is a Deja-VU indeed. An ancient powerhouse, with outworldly, genetic legacies We both share in our weave. a hybrid mutant Adam and Eve. Who's my mystic beloved?A brightest star over Jaipur! Intergalactic, art at heart. Poet verse, he's honey bee. His aim is firm as his name He is me I am him within! similar avatar in the outside We tingle a double mystic smile. A magnetic vortex keep us both In one LOVEz voyage loop, through space.🐝🐝🛸. His vessel his gates his hands His mind,heart, soul is my own. Nothing and no one can pull us apart, we call HP our time machine to beyond Alpha Century bound. Thus, a billion stars cinthilate with gentle beams of hope Antimatter lovers lane And our heart Rd-Ad our home.🦋🦋. ~~~~ By: Karijinbba. Inspired by- Good better best MOI.
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59
Sparks of light Emerge from the void And encircle themselves Around a phosphorescent nucleus. Colors, green and purple, Shine through the hues of watery darkness As the traces and trails Glow vibrantly in the black of it all. Organisms and antimatter Flow around each other Indiscriminately, Suggesting a relationship of unity. O to touch such forbidden beauty! To hold it in my pale hands- It's enough to make one cry Tears of radiation In a sea full of death's water.
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Apr 12, 2019
Apr 12, 2019 at 12:19 PM UTC
Meltdown
Please let me fit inside your paintings The ones where the telephone wires are Standing like towers over the burning orchards Naked lovers wrapping themselves in picnic blankets Holding white wine. Make me last. Let me be a fossil in the dust of your bones So they can date me back to this ice age They make fake snow you know Remember I dented your car that night Pushed up in metal your tiny Thighs reflecting our disturbance You dared Please let me fit inside your whitewashed molds Make a cast of my head, fill my eyes with lead Coat my organs in liquid plastic, make me your favorite piece A real beauty of a dead man Display me in the store windows of history Make vulture that can’t eat me Make worms that can’t get to me Make me famous. We dug holes in the night The earthen wombs trying to hide Our dead futures. Make these tombs Swallow faster. We dug holes in the light like blackholes In the blackblue. Make me antimatter Make me matter.
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Mar 27, 2011
Mar 27, 2011 at 10:29 AM UTC
The Sensitive Universe
Green crash, suddenly center signal on strange, distant announcement squiggle. Scenery dashingly simple, single. Wave shape, hungering scented cower. On top, beady dispassioned shower, shaving or scraping a wooden tower. Stale grid, static or sounding static. Appear, pointedly under attic, wailing forbidden, not automatic. Big screen messaging: starlight scatter. The end. Something but antimatter. Trigger between, in the ribbing: flatter. Soft board, terribly outer terror perceives singular, stringent error. Coughing accordingly code propeller.
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Mar 10, 2014
Mar 10, 2014 at 9:12 AM UTC
Green Crash
Like matter and antimatter We were attracted A scent of cake batter A disease we contracted An infection of attraction, recollection of the actions That we took upon the shores of memories long gone. And no matter how we try our lives continue to flit by like photons from a far-away explosion drawn from the straining of a system (void of friends, and sorely missed them) The reaction came cascading to a halt. The galaxy looked down upon us as we walked around. Together you and I, perfection, to a fault. Like matter and antimatter, our time together was brief. There was nothing left of either of us after our chance encounter. But for only a moment, we shone more brightly than anything in the universe.
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Aug 7, 2013
Aug 7, 2013 at 3:27 PM UTC
Annihilation
A red bird has flown soaring in the great height of the purple sky. The thrilling scream was as a shrill cry on the soundtrack. The bird has disappeared into the sky, and all it could be heard was the sound. That cold sound became fluid in the ears. A forked green lightning following a zigzagging pattern appeared from an antimatter space. The eyes fixed wide-open up, and the mouths kept silent. A ship has left the dock to disappear in the mobile horizon. It seemingly disappeared and reappeared based on where the eyes were looking; the eyes were not able to leave the dock. When the ship could not be seen, a prolonged blast could be heard. Finally, the ship disappeared in an antimatter space, where cold could illuminate and beat the heat to burn everything as we beat the heat with icy cold neck wraps. The eyes fixed wide-open toward, and red screams grew from open mouths. The sun lost its strength to become redder than it was before. In the twilight, its disk disappeared below the mobile horizon. Its power was in the spirit and the matter of the freezing cold. The eyes were unable to see where the sun was going. In the soft and purple mist, they looked like little amethyst stones. The violet light slowed down in the water much more than the red light refracted. The waves of alternating strength in electric and magnetic fields moved around the Earth in the tick of a clock. The mouths murmured, but the anti-sound made them all be quiet. From an airplane in the sky, the eyes could see two rainbows with colors in opposite order forming a complete circle. The eyes could move up and down to see the red light that refracted out of the droplets at steeper angles than the blue light. The mind could imagine another rainbow made of complementary light wavelengths such as green, blue, violet, red, orange, yellow-orange and yellow.
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Nov 28, 2014
Nov 28, 2014 at 10:50 AM UTC
Antimatter (Neo Surrealist Poem)
A red bird has flown soaring in the great height of the purple sky. The thrilling scream was as a shrill cry on the soundtrack. The bird has disappeared into the sky, and all it could be heard was the sound. That cold sound became fluid in the ears. A forked green lightning following a zigzagging pattern appeared from an antimatter space. The eyes fixed wide-open up, and the mouths kept silent. A ship has left the dock to disappear in the mobile horizon. It seemingly disappeared and reappeared based on where the eyes were looking; the eyes were not able to leave the dock. When the ship could not be seen, a prolonged blast could be heard. Finally, the ship disappeared in an antimatter space, where cold could illuminate and beat the heat to burn everything as we beat the heat with icy cold neck wraps. The eyes fixed wide-open toward, and red screams grew from open mouths. The sun lost its strength to become redder than it was before. In the twilight, its disk disappeared below the mobile horizon. Its power was in the spirit and the matter of the freezing cold. The eyes were unable to see where the sun was going. In the soft and purple mist, they looked like little amethyst stones. The violet light slowed down in the water much more than the red light refracted. The waves of alternating strength in electric and magnetic fields moved around the Earth in the tick of a clock. The mouths murmured, but the anti-sound made them all be quiet. From an airplane in the sky, the eyes could see two rainbows with colors in opposite order forming a complete circle. The eyes could move up and down to see the red light that refracted out of the droplets at steeper angles than the blue light. The mind could imagine another rainbow made of complementary light wavelengths such as green, blue, violet, red, orange, yellow-orange and yellow.
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Despair, mother, father of emotion A raw intensity, a singularity Exploding outwards, expanding into Every pastel sentiment Love's antimatter Doppelganger Evil twin, yin yang Just as love lace edged with despair Despair runs threaded through with love Like seaside rock once the season's dead and gone Whispered ghosts of dreams Of sunny days and might have beens Gone all too soon Of childhood summer memories Simple pleasures at the time Refocused under a lens of grief Once bringing joy Now heralds pain so exquisite All other feelings rendered pale Translucent echoes when compared And with such brilliant intensity Informs that you are still alive Ironically At least for now
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Jan 15, 2016
Jan 15, 2016 at 5:33 PM UTC
Diagnosis Day
Come. Whisper in my ear, Nuances of quantum Conjugations, Of antimatter ******* I will reply with Electrochemical kisses On the shallow of your Soul.
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Aug 24, 2014
Aug 24, 2014 at 12:24 PM UTC
Quantum Conjugations
I've been watching patterns in nature lately, savoring their beauty. We are born, unfolding, into the world's natural grid, painting the infinite canvas. I finally see that we are one and the same in this cycle, interconnected. So different, yet so familiar. The trees structured like our lungs, our veins like the vast rivers. Our hearts pulse, and so do the shore waves. I look into the stars swimming in the antimatter, and they look back at me. Among them I see your eyes, like two suns, radiating warmth onto my soul, reaching evey corner of my being. I will never forget the time we had, how it colored my world's canvas.
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Nov 4, 2024
Nov 4, 2024 at 6:50 PM UTC
The patterns of us
a constant variable in the scientific and holy experiment of love. mix in the energy. prepare for explosion. antimatter =/< the radiation of the moon. (ive learned to admire the hell i've created. you've taught me the importance of standing in awe before this god. never again will i make the mistake of forgetting my place.) this existence will mean nothing unless- i have subtracted myself from the infinite equation of death. and multiplied it with the energy of life itself. in the end: my personal purgatory in which the action (mistake) is substituted by soul (truth) which equals; infinity tried to keep me within reach. and failed. i am- an equation which He had no solution for. i am- a constant experiment and i proved Him wrong.
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Nov 14, 2011
Nov 14, 2011 at 12:00 AM UTC
i am.
Day of days (empty room) When too weak from bottle To stand of own accord Life flashing before eyes Horror building in gut Crimson dread and Visions of square eyed devils Laughing They beckon Lukewarm antimatter void My creek has turned to poison No amount of mountain water Desperately sipped from creek Will fill me
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Oct 13, 2014
Oct 13, 2014 at 11:47 AM UTC
Creek
We have never met, never touched,never tried to get close to each other... Our love was symbolised only as intimate conversations made from across the two ends of the universe... The world as well as my 'beloved matter' were always baffled by so mysterious a romance... And so one day when I could no longer carry my secret... I sobbed out only to be consoled with so much invisible affections in return: "I am antimatter, honey, separated we hold the cosmos, united we annihilate each other in a blinding flash of light into nothingness... " And so we remained so very in love,every passing moment continuing to intrigue the world until the end of time!
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Feb 13, 2021
Feb 13, 2021 at 11:07 AM UTC
Antimatter