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"assuaging" poems
armed and dangerous, 20 oz. of hot hot coffee, tablet on lap, sitting on the deck overlooking the bay, and once again, unusual for me, I am touched by the sanctity of the serenity pervading, assuaging, by waves just loud enough to sway to, the off/on chatter of the early bird's convocation of the morning's blessing, have survived another night to greet greatly the outlines of loveliness in the all~of~surroundings, which hacks my brain, for I am by forty years of habitation more accustomed to a rough and tumble city boy trader, screamer of: buy/sell/straddle/strangle/crush/kill/mercilessness, no quarter, no mindfulness in me naturally, until nature robs my tools of denial,  and I smell the sanctity of fresh sheets laid on bed, the warmed blood, vein coursing, suggesting just listen, listen, the hot shower water eradicating the prior day's sinfulness, the highly valued sensations of sensational emptiness, and words drifting from the surround movie theater of a vista beloved, coming for to fill and fulfill this always~in~mourning soul by the overhauling of a crisp, cleansing day break I, familiar with notions of perpetuity, and at best, conceptual, though my mind permits a drift to the thoughtfulness that this place, this moment, this performance art  of spectacular breathing of another dawning day, after thousands upon thousand of its predecessors, and the possibility, not remote, but not promised, to anyone, just may occur at least once more, and one must learn contentment from but that idea, and sip the cooling dregs of coffee, the sounds of human interference, car door slamming, the heaving breathing of morning joggers, the wind rising, the white caps snapping, precursors and signs that natural perfection is never permanent, always in transition, and a whispery smile crosses my cheeks, as a silly thought invades, nature is so very human~like and yet, immortal… composed between 6:30 and 8:30 am this day Wed Aug 20 twenty twenty-five Silver Beach
0
Aug 20, 2025
Aug 20, 2025 at 8:34 AM UTC
the moment of sanctity...the sanctity of the moment
armed and dangerous, 20 oz. of hot hot coffee, tablet on lap, sitting on the deck overlooking the bay, and once again, unusual for me, I am touched by the sanctity of the serenity pervading, assuaging, by waves just loud enough to sway to, the off/on chatter of the early bird's convocation of the morning's blessing, have survived another night to greet greatly the outlines of loveliness in the all~of~surroundings, which hacks my brain, for I am by forty years of habitation more accustomed to a rough and tumble city boy trader, screamer of: buy/sell/straddle/strangle/crush/kill/mercilessness, no quarter, no mindfulness in me naturally, until nature robs my tools of denial,  and I smell the sanctity of fresh sheets laid on bed, the warmed blood, vein coursing, suggesting just listen, listen, the hot shower water eradicating the prior day's sinfulness, the highly valued sensations of sensational emptiness, and words drifting from the surround movie theater of a vista beloved, coming for to fill and fulfill this always~in~mourning soul by the overhauling of a crisp, cleansing day break I, familiar with notions of perpetuity, and at best, conceptual, though my mind permits a drift to the thoughtfulness that this place, this moment, this performance art  of spectacular breathing of another dawning day, after thousands upon thousand of its predecessors, and the possibility, not remote, but not promised, to anyone, just may occur at least once more, and one must learn contentment from but that idea, and sip the cooling dregs of coffee, the sounds of human interference, car door slamming, the heaving breathing of morning joggers, the wind rising, the white caps snapping, precursors and signs that natural perfection is never permanent, always in transition, and a whispery smile crosses my cheeks, as a silly thought invades, nature is so very human~like and yet, immortal… composed between 6:30 and 8:30 am this day Wed Aug 20 twenty twenty-five Silver Beach
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30
Our summer fellowships are over! We learned a lot - for instance - how summer’s a lot less fun when you’re hemmed-up, inside working. I mean, we preesh’d the clinical experience, the learning, and especially how good these fellowships will look on our med-school applications - seriously - but there were a hundred rules - aren’t rules incompatible with summer? Hmm, Ok, let’s see, something poetic.. As the summer sun's blistering radiance waned, shadows, muscled by sunrays to the marginal edges and corners, gradually spread, like water - soothing, lenifying and assuaging simmered nerves with their refreshing, canopied touch. If sunlight scorched with heat, twilight soothed and gentled, while varnishing, the dimming world with rainbow, event-horizons, larger, more inventive, colorful and glorious than any mere mortal art. Night gradually squeezed, unseen, through those vivid sunset cracks, and refreshing night-air, drawn in by the last, escaping updrafts of heat, rustled cooling relief to weary workers seeking the solace of evening and home. back to unpoetic realities.. When work was finished, we’d retreat from the heat, racing up to the rooftop pool, like two happy porpoises out of school. Whoever invented poolside food delivery, should win the Nobel Prize for ‘thank you very much.’ We wouldn’t go back to our rooms until it was dark and we’d started to prune. Now, we’ve a month to relax before our Junior year begins. We got letters from Yale that said, “As upperclassmen..” “Upperclassmen!” We shouted as we danced in hand-holding circles, singing, “Upperclassmen, upperclassmen, upperclassmen, upperclassmen. upperclassmen.”   We’ve grown so much at Yale.
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Aug 2, 2023
Aug 2, 2023 at 12:05 PM UTC
summer persists
Our summer fellowships are over! We learned a lot - for instance - how summer’s a lot less fun when you’re hemmed-up, inside working. I mean, we preesh’d the clinical experience, the learning, and especially how good these fellowships will look on our med-school applications - seriously - but there were a hundred rules - aren’t rules incompatible with summer? Hmm, Ok, let’s see, something poetic.. As the summer sun's blistering radiance waned, shadows, muscled by sunrays to the marginal edges and corners, gradually spread, like water - soothing, lenifying and assuaging simmered nerves with their refreshing, canopied touch. If sunlight scorched with heat, twilight soothed and gentled, while varnishing, the dimming world with rainbow, event-horizons, larger, more inventive, colorful and glorious than any mere mortal art. Night gradually squeezed, unseen, through those vivid sunset cracks, and refreshing night-air, drawn in by the last, escaping updrafts of heat, rustled cooling relief to weary workers seeking the solace of evening and home. back to unpoetic realities.. When work was finished, we’d retreat from the heat, racing up to the rooftop pool, like two happy porpoises out of school. Whoever invented poolside food delivery, should win the Nobel Prize for ‘thank you very much.’ We wouldn’t go back to our rooms until it was dark and we’d started to prune. Now, we’ve a month to relax before our Junior year begins. We got letters from Yale that said, “As upperclassmen..” “Upperclassmen!” We shouted as we danced in hand-holding circles, singing, “Upperclassmen, upperclassmen, upperclassmen, upperclassmen. upperclassmen.”   We’ve grown so much at Yale.
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17
I provoke the wind in a dialect shared with him and him alone. He whispers assent, as assuaging liquid draughts glance my submissive frame. A desolate wanderer, incising the burdensome night. Accompanied by none corporeal, I prowl satin fields, illuminated by Luna and Saturn, her amber consort. ©Thomas Gabriel
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Nov 29, 2011
Nov 29, 2011 at 10:59 AM UTC
Luna.
Sean, crystal blue Sean, misty hue Sean, delicate dew Sean, eternal muse fragrant than frankincense assuaging than myrrh Dearer than gold.
0
Apr 17, 2014
Apr 17, 2014 at 7:58 AM UTC
Sean
. *mourning dove coos echo across dawn’s dappled silence-- only these quiet pauses of breath hush the dew droplets passive trickle poignant traces of a solacing gravity seep down through fogged portals, cascading earthward from above a symphony of pining pleas from dew impearled wild feathers a simple prayer of hope--           to be held in breathless warmth,           in the amity                                                                               . of compassionate comfort,        nestled intimately beneath another’s assuaging wing* ©  wild is the wind
0
Feb 8, 2016
Feb 8, 2016 at 11:41 AM UTC
to be held in breathless warmth
his voice beguiles me, weakening me in whispered warmth of breath, fingers trace trembled want of hungry lips tasting me... Closing my eyes; I arch into need of his touch, his voice of seduction breathes against skin, teasing me licking my tremors... I moan in ache, my ripple upon his tongue, my essence rises lingering within his mouth; roughly kissing me and I kneel before him, taking him in slowly suckling; tasting him tip to pearls licking his veined pendulum swirling in warmth, vigorously in out loving his shudder... he whispers as his fingers tenderly tweak ****** softly, inebriating my senses; aroused horniness, entering my paradise, firmness weaves flesh in breathless swells, igniting our twine; like tongue licking heat of mouth pulsing in wetness... searing between open thighs, I ache for his plunge engraving me, knotted within his arch; deluged in fluidities flush as lips brush, tongue trails taut nips, I blush beneath his fiery breath, still teasing rocked to my foundation... unraveling me in utter passion, our bodies aching; assuaging yearn, calming quivers in wet want; shuddering each abraded ****** loving its aftertaste in trembled release enlivening; our lust still entwined within wet ecstasy...
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Feb 19, 2013
Feb 19, 2013 at 12:53 PM UTC
Wet Ecstasy
his mouth an infusion of lust, eagerly impinges; suckling, tasting as a kitten to milk. playing in titillating wetness; sliding tongue over fevered flesh, leaving me blushed. arched in desire… laid back; glaze eyed, licking delicacy of my essence ~ as I moan sweet and primal. savoring labials to **** entering sharp tongued cove of pleasure widening thighs inch by inch. our bodies immerge ******* hips slow dips, locking lips muffling sighs; drenching aches in rhythm. a symphony of wood, soaked tangled sheets losing ourselves in ecstasies kiss; assuaging hungered ***** unleashed greed explodes; drenched in trembling aches as we bend into supplication of us.
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Jul 18, 2013
Jul 18, 2013 at 8:25 PM UTC
Fevered Supplication{B}
“How can I get you to go down on me,” he asked, without preamble. His voice, nervous, laced with strength hums through her form, summoning a tatting of *** She moves her entire form Across the room pushing solar plexus With index finger The wingback chair collecting His form – assuaging her intent. Retreating nine steps To gather Her acumen in dripping her clothes off Adroit pivot portent gaze locked exteroception - engaged His exhale executed succinctly in shallow lung puckered alveoli - clenched resonates as her own. Pearls scooped catatonic atop lingering breast ascension - alone Remain – Summoning brine. She tastes his pulse Derma puckering sweat globules Redolent aeriform vapor corpuscles declaring his need. Fingers supporting her upper weight she glides - crawling pressing half inch spurs into the carpet Lackadaisical dactyl dance Seizes muscle calf to thigh Invoking listless leg drape Pausing Warm breath – rendered Upon knee cap parallel Framing shoulders Engorging - in aching silence Pulse thick, wrought in shaft Kneeling Primed Proud She flicks the button From slit fabric recess Cupping palms under thigh, She renders garment to puddle half-in – half-out whole chthonic shaft to palette Sliding exhale to mound lax jaw focus Iris entreats - narrowed corneal withdrawal Oblong lip array surrounds Supping the creamy, coppery, Smoky, saline inoculation. Latent dribble invokes tongue Furl about lip cusp Absorbing globule Into slaked smile.
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Feb 19, 2014
Feb 19, 2014 at 10:33 AM UTC
Swallowing Pearls and Lace
frozen ass’s ***** their frozen assets assimilating accountants asphyxiated by Asperger’s arranging orangutans assuaging appetites all the while alone
0
Mar 26, 2015
Mar 26, 2015 at 1:48 PM UTC
a lil somethin somethin
Funny how our rolling emotions inside Can be calmed by the thundering storm outside A wide and grey stretching sky Can bring out a deeper sigh The sky has sent her haunted kiss Persuading all to reminisce Still and quiet, now eerie silent The air so still it's almost violent Bleak sky dark and calming Strangely so inviting Lullaby-ing my soul to quiet Assuaging all that was in riot I can be tranquil like the sky I'll sing myself a lullaby And Hushabye these cares away And me and mine will sway away I'll sing a soft slow song We'll grow together strong The wind and rain will pitter pat Hail and puddles and all of that Babe soon to be in arms Plus two wild'uns that run My own small little charms We've only just begun Little feet splash in the puddles Claps of thunder draw out delight Inside me baby cuddles Soon we'll all meet this heaven's sight
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Jul 12, 2024
Jul 12, 2024 at 7:49 PM UTC
Cradle
i. I canst not thanketh thee enough, for assuaging mine pang's On earth, in heaven, on the dwarf planet's, in thy kiss of leaven; When thou art down, I'll taketh thine frown, when broken, when hopeless, I shalt giveth thee mine own gladness; lifting thy smile. ii. In cities, in town's, aloft the skies, on the ground, in the open, in the wild, cadmium yellow floret's, mine Asian child, in thy eye's; In thy laugh, passed the noise, of hellish mess, passed the pain's, madness and stress; I shalt always be by thy waistside, mine pet. iii. In ourn life, and beyond ourn death's, we shalt meeteth at the place of holiness, tis not a place sculpted by hand's of men; Tis a place of dominion's and kingdom's. Inside God's house wherein we shalt be in peace, the angel's shalt singeth, halo sleep. ©Brandon Nagley ©Earl jane Nagley (Pookie) dedication ©Lonesome poet's poetry
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Sep 27, 2015
Sep 27, 2015 at 6:56 PM UTC
fo̱tostéfano tou ýpnou ( Halo sleep) greek tongue
The natural attribute of my inquiring intuition Coerced me to tread passionately in the wake Of this provocatively, entertaining creature To analyze the abstract desires of her mind She peeks just up over her lovely shoulder Capturing the dazzling quality of my image From the corner of her harlequin green eyes As she licks her lips insatiably with hunger Ultimately this woman approached me fearlessly Exuding the very spark of unmistakable attraction She then began stroking her fingers through my hair Caressing my face with her assuaging touch of heaven Softly rubbing my chest while whispering risque enigmas of pleasure Oh, how I could feel the air of her pacifying breath blowing in my ear While her alluring cave of magic chafed against my yearning serpent Not one word was spoken for she could sense my crave to fornicate
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Aug 28, 2011
Aug 28, 2011 at 4:53 PM UTC
Lady In Red 2
“Swallowing Pearls and Lace” “How can I get you to go down on me,” he asked, without preamble. His voice, nervous, laced with strength hums through her form, summoning a tatting of *** I moved my entire form Across the room Pushing his solar plexus With index finger The wingback chair collecting His form – assuaging my intent. Retreating nine steps To gather my acumen in dripping my clothes off Adroit pivot portent gaze locked exteroception - engaged His exhale executed succinctly in shallow lung puckered alveoli – Clenched - resonates as my own. Pearls scooped catatonic atop lingering breast ascension - alone Remain – Summoning brine. I taste his pulse Derma puckering sweat Redolent vapor Knotting between each pore – skin taut declaring his need. Fingers supporting my upper weight I glide - crawling pressing half inch spurs into the carpet Lackadaisical dactyl dance Seizes muscle calf to thigh Invoking listless leg drape Pausing Warm breath – rendered Upon knee cap parallel Framing shoulders Engorging - in aching silence Pulse thick, wrought in shaft Kneeling Primed Proud I flick the button From slit fabric recess Cupping palms under thigh, rendering garment to puddle half-in – half-out whole chthonic shaft to palette Sliding exhale to mound lax jaw focus His iris entreats - narrowed corneal withdrawal Oblong lip array surrounds Supping the creamy, coppery, Smoky, saline Latent dribble invokes my tongue Furl about lip cusp Absorbing globule Into slaked smile.
0
Mar 17, 2015
Mar 17, 2015 at 6:20 PM UTC
Swallowing Pearls and Lace
“Swallowing Pearls and Lace” “How can I get you to go down on me,” he asked, without preamble. His voice, nervous, laced with strength hums through her form, summoning a tatting of *** I moved my entire form Across the room Pushing his solar plexus With index finger The wingback chair collecting His form – assuaging my intent. Retreating nine steps To gather my acumen in dripping my clothes off Adroit pivot portent gaze locked exteroception - engaged His exhale executed succinctly in shallow lung puckered alveoli – Clenched - resonates as my own. Pearls scooped catatonic atop lingering breast ascension - alone Remain – Summoning brine. I taste his pulse Derma puckering sweat Redolent vapor Knotting between each pore – skin taut declaring his need. Fingers supporting my upper weight I glide - crawling pressing half inch spurs into the carpet Lackadaisical dactyl dance Seizes muscle calf to thigh Invoking listless leg drape Pausing Warm breath – rendered Upon knee cap parallel Framing shoulders Engorging - in aching silence Pulse thick, wrought in shaft Kneeling Primed Proud I flick the button From slit fabric recess Cupping palms under thigh, rendering garment to puddle half-in – half-out whole chthonic shaft to palette Sliding exhale to mound lax jaw focus His iris entreats - narrowed corneal withdrawal Oblong lip array surrounds Supping the creamy, coppery, Smoky, saline Latent dribble invokes my tongue Furl about lip cusp Absorbing globule Into slaked smile.
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71
his movement against me rocks me within the array of his tease that wet entangled embrace delicate; deep within our elation, unraveling my entirety as I bend in the arch of his chivalry assuaging me... In the breath of his passionate lips; tasting, leaving scorching trails against hardened ******* I blushed... and he licked each bud, tongue tipped flutters, heated breath, poised beneath bulge; awaiting slow quick dips coaxing, labials welcome lips open appeasing me in rages of his passion, aching for release; urging his yearn with each dip wet of want screams in euphoria, piercing, entwining as I lay before him spent naked exposed to pleasures unknown awakening our lust, rocking me within loves breathless embrace
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Jul 18, 2013
Jul 18, 2013 at 6:23 PM UTC
Awakened Lust
let out into some miniscule town by someone else's proportionality, here is always smaller than somewhere bigger. there are always more people somewhere else. there are less people hiding, like me. and i'm left convinced still, no matter the permanence of what i'd say or you'd feel, you'll find someone new and better, or old and more familiar (this keeps happening, the same patterns repeat, the inside of my head reels). so, don't bother assuaging my fears. somehow, by this point, they are mostly what compose me. i'll fall apart with or without them. with or without you. it all hurts. and i can't keep it together. not today. i burnt my self-esteem, by my own spark. everything tore me apart. a jigsaw puzzle, returned to pieces. but i don't fit: not into anyone's plan. not into any social hierarchy. not into my own palm. i'll let you cut off chunks of me, let you cram me into where you think i should fit. sure. but you might not allay my definitions. i'm sorry. spelt out s-a-d, i'll collapse into the same heap. you can make me happy for a day (or four years). sure. (but it's no good, if i still hate me.)
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May 28, 2014
May 28, 2014 at 8:36 PM UTC
self-esteem
Among mankind's best— Brave, courageous Heroes who do no harm Assuaging our fear With fellow feeling and care Amidst viral strains' stealthy swarm Among mankind's worst— Mean, dastardly Zeros who do know harm Stoking pandemic fear Scamming the unsuspecting ear With a smiling swindler's charm Heroes & Zeros Best and worst of mankind— What a dichotomy! We'll keep hoping instead For a bright future ahead Daily coping with anxiety © 2020 by Mark Toney. All rights reserved.
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Apr 12, 2020
Apr 12, 2020 at 10:47 PM UTC
Heroes & Zeros
Today I realized How very much I need you When I am afraid You refuse to leave my side Simple proximity defuses my fear Reassuring me when you are near Our minds so alike Stubborn, fierce, humorous and protective When my words seem incomplete You finish my thought Arguing for me You are my partner My friend So warm is your skin on mine Flesh intertwined Sometimes I stumble and fall You catch me Support me You're there through it all Thank you for making me feel safe my dear For caring and understanding Being the awful boy I cherish For wiping away my tears And somehow assuaging my fears
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Feb 8, 2012
Feb 8, 2012 at 1:09 PM UTC
Safe
Vultures would aim at the passage of children they’d dive beneath garments and masks and myths like you, they want truth, in its distant quarry cut from loose disguise and weak belief Yet, you are not content in the mind of a miner to dig like a spear for warmth behind the armor And when you have found some soft place of pleasure You cant help but feel you’ve crawled back to the womb so you won’t swoop down and peck the eyes of new life for fear that in assuaging your hunger you’re somehow giving in to the binds of something unbirthed, primitive, weaker I just laugh when you ask why you’re eating scraps that are no more then what clumsy vultures have dropped in flight gristle that even the ants ignore
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Dec 13, 2011
Dec 13, 2011 at 6:37 AM UTC
Harmless
Black Friday sales and Christmas deals; Hot on the next bargain’s trail, Itching to fill the void the heart feels. Transactions and agreements, Trappings, false achievements. Welcome to the era of the shopping mall; This is where your dreams hop off to die, This is their final port of call. Everything and everyone is a commodity; Barcoded, plastic-wrapped merchandise, Categorisation for you and your progeny. If money doesn’t germinate from its seed, If it does not clothe and feed, Then it is not something we need. We are a philistine’s wet dream. We strive to achieve the American scheme; Delusional and overworked, about to scream, Believing all of us can be billionaires forever, As the planet grows hungry and lean. Or, believing some deserve yachts and limousines, That some should starve, Whilst others gorge themselves on fine cuisines. Believing that society should be divided in layers, Assuaging our guilt with thoughts and prayers, When instead, we could have just refrained from leaving others behind. When everything becomes a commodity, Art for the sake of making it becomes an oddity. Poets retire their pens, And painters put down their brushes - Apathy and despair fog the lands, Like irradiated wind corrupting everything it touches. Singers go quiet, actors go numb; Musicians will riot, orators will be struck dumb. When our own turn on us, tell us to get “a real job”, When “job creators” are done calling us “lazy slobs”, None of us will be around to point out the irony. We will go extinct, a dying breed, finally gone; Life will be succinct, the greedy will have won. Slay your kings and queens, or remain a pawn.
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Sep 15, 2019
Sep 15, 2019 at 10:10 AM UTC
A Dying Breed
Black Friday sales and Christmas deals; Hot on the next bargain’s trail, Itching to fill the void the heart feels. Transactions and agreements, Trappings, false achievements. Welcome to the era of the shopping mall; This is where your dreams hop off to die, This is their final port of call. Everything and everyone is a commodity; Barcoded, plastic-wrapped merchandise, Categorisation for you and your progeny. If money doesn’t germinate from its seed, If it does not clothe and feed, Then it is not something we need. We are a philistine’s wet dream. We strive to achieve the American scheme; Delusional and overworked, about to scream, Believing all of us can be billionaires forever, As the planet grows hungry and lean. Or, believing some deserve yachts and limousines, That some should starve, Whilst others gorge themselves on fine cuisines. Believing that society should be divided in layers, Assuaging our guilt with thoughts and prayers, When instead, we could have just refrained from leaving others behind. When everything becomes a commodity, Art for the sake of making it becomes an oddity. Poets retire their pens, And painters put down their brushes - Apathy and despair fog the lands, Like irradiated wind corrupting everything it touches. Singers go quiet, actors go numb; Musicians will riot, orators will be struck dumb. When our own turn on us, tell us to get “a real job”, When “job creators” are done calling us “lazy slobs”, None of us will be around to point out the irony. We will go extinct, a dying breed, finally gone; Life will be succinct, the greedy will have won. Slay your kings and queens, or remain a pawn.
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39
Dear God, I know I'm in love With you, the girl who I know I can't love The mere prospect of which tears my heart To more pieces that all of DG could count A billion, a trillion, more than could be by in a lifetime And yet my heart bursts time and again Even though Delta Gammas are fun and sweet You're the best my heart beat gets Beat in and beat out, between the impulses my heart gives out I can't but help to see your face Written across my thoughts and dreams And hear your words echoing in my ears Keeping my being stuck to you Assuaging my fears that my mind had lost you and who I am so wrongly devoted to And here I am stuck writing Drunk poems to you or whatever image you exude Drinking to drink, and to help me tell the beauty of you
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Sep 3, 2010
Sep 3, 2010 at 8:47 PM UTC
Drunky
difficulties ascertain the tremor of the displaced stone in the corner: stones have truth, and life so much the not, like the lilt of mendaciloquence dispersing in a dearth home— everything else is rinsed, assuaging the dermis that continually aches forever the thorn of a rose ripened,   just as jazz is as always the music listened to by fellows hungry for Earth. the wind blows spindrift past our opened window when we slept next to the churning sea. shadows renaming space: elegies of old metal rusting seeking more than what silence provides. roads confused to a kink. furniture kites along with it, a toppled light like sinking the fruit deep into the hands of a river.   our flights become only so heavy   when we become wary of the love we   drag along. when we the small of our   back and the bony protrusions of arched   bodies become             aware of the detritus. when blades   of grass rear weight of the air bracing   for the fall.        our flights become only so heavy    when we look back at our point   of departures. our spanked curve    of trajectories, permutations of    open doors trying to do away    syncopated tapestries anchoring   our dripping bodies wet with what   the snow has lent our        numeral summers—            forget.
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Nov 24, 2015
Nov 24, 2015 at 3:34 AM UTC
Algorithm of Forget
We are barely covered The *** is boiling over Forest fires are raging For hours, here I've hovered With my lucky clover Blessed and bald and aging Let's open up the cupboard Turn the bottle over Our fears to start assuaging Against these woes we'll shove hard Until we start to sober And dread commences caging
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Jul 12, 2016
Jul 12, 2016 at 9:25 PM UTC
Dread Cage
the ghosts of many days. here are the many eyes insidiously cutting through insides, gutting them out of their poisons and their moribund steps, assuaging none. before the step was the flesh, and before flesh was the emptiness, keen with its marble eyes like sizing down an already thwarted opponent. these pallid-faced buildings peer through the sleepless concrete like fathers searching for children. like crows scavenging for truths behind myriad lies of death. here comes the marauder thieving again, the gutter's chagrin. underneath stirs the deathly **** of rats, the deep inset of petrichor hiding behind the overcast of a death foretold. streets continue to emblazon their nameless turns: George Street bayoneting through Pitt as a ragamuffin dog slithers past Castlereagh, scrounging for bones with forgotten pains. the ghosts of many days weaving the loom of sky tender with sound of labyrinthine flapping through the hollow of dawn as my fingers clash in battle, rearing this nailed triumph. apparitions tracking me down, chasing me with vivid light through uneventful avenues forking without meaning past the hammered cinders, away from the frozen barricades in stiffening cold, ghosts of many days coming back with unprompted tongues and their pertinacious susurrus.
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Sep 26, 2015
Sep 26, 2015 at 12:15 AM UTC
Apparitions