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"avails" poems
Nor thou, Habib, nor I are glad, when rosy limbs and sweat entwine; But rapture drowns the sense and self, the wine the drawer of the wine, And Him that planted first the grape- o podex, in thy vault there dwells A charm to make the member mad, And shake the marrow of the spine. O member, in thy stubborn strength a power avails on podex-sense To boil the blood in breast and brain; shudder the nreves incarnadine! From me thou drawest pearly drink - and in its pourings both are drunk. The Iman drives forth the drunken man from out the marble prayer-shrine. Blue Mushtari strove with red Mirrikh which should be master of the night- But where is Mushtari, where Mirrikh when in the sky the sun doth shine? Now El Qahar to Hazif gives the worship unto poets due : - But songs are nought and Music all; what poet music may define? Allah's the atheist! he owns no Allah. Sneer, thou dullard churl! The Sufi worships not, but drinks, being himself the all-divine. Come, my Habib, the roses blush, the waters gleam, the bulbul sings - To pierce thy podex El Quahar's urgent and and imminent design!
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The Atheist
Long I followed happy guides,— I could never reach their sides. Their step is forth, and, ere the day, Breaks up their leaguer, and away. Keen my sense, my heart was young, Right goodwill my sinews strung, But no speed of mine avails To hunt upon their shining trails. On and away, their hasting feet Make the morning proud and sweet. Flowers they strew, I catch the scent, Or tone of silver instrument Leaves on the wind melodious trace, Yet I could never see their face. On eastern hills I see their smokes Mixed with mist by distant lochs. I meet many travellers Who the road had surely kept,— They saw not my fine revellers,— These had crossed them while they slept. Some had heard their fair report In the country or the court. Fleetest couriers alive Never yet could once arrive, As they went or they returned, At the house where these sojourned. Sometimes their strong speed they slacken, Though they are not overtaken: In sleep, their jubilant troop is near, I tuneful voices overhear, It may be in wood or waste,— At unawares 'tis come and passed. Their near camp my spirit knows By signs gracious as rainbows. I thenceforward and long after Listen for their harplike laughter, And carry in my heart for days Peace that hallows rudest ways.—
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The Forerunners
Ah what avails the sceptred race, Ah what the form divine! What every virtue, every grace! Rose Aylmer, all were thine. Rose Aylmer, whom these wakeful eyes May weep, but never see, A night of memories and of sighs I consecrate to thee.
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Rose Aylmer
These are modern English translations of the "Xenia" epigrams written in collaboration by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe and Friedrich Schiller. #2 - Verse versus Kiss She says an epigram’s too terse to reveal her tender heart in verse ... but really, darling, ain’t the thrill of a kiss much shorter still? ―from “Xenia” by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe and Friedrich Schiller, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch #5 - Criticism Why don’t I openly criticize the man? Because he’s a friend; thus I reproach him in silence, as I do my own heart. ―from “Xenia” by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe and Friedrich Schiller, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch #11 - Highest Holiness What is holiest? This heart-felt love binding spirits together, now and forever. ―from “Xenia” by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe and Friedrich Schiller, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch #12 - Love versus Desire You love what you have, and desire what you lack because a rich nature expands, while a poor one contracts. ―from “Xenia” by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe and Friedrich Schiller, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch #19 - Nymph and Satyr As shy as the trembling doe your horn frightens from the woods, she flees the huntsman, fainting, uncertain of love. ―from “Xenia” by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe and Friedrich Schiller, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch #20 - Desire What stirs the virgin’s heaving ******* to sighs? What causes your bold gaze to brim with tears? ―from “Xenia” by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe and Friedrich Schiller, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch #23 - The Apex I Everywhere women yield to men, but only at the apex do the manliest men surrender to femininity. ―from “Xenia” by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe and Friedrich Schiller, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch #24 - The Apex II What do we mean by the highest? The crystalline clarity of triumph as it shines from the brow of a woman, from the brow of a goddess. ―from “Xenia” by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe and Friedrich Schiller, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch #25 -Human Life Young sailors brave the sea beneath ten thousand sails while old men drift ashore on any bark that avails. ―from “Xenia” by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe and Friedrich Schiller, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch #35 - Dead Ahead What’s the hardest thing of all to do? To see clearly with your own eyes what’s ahead of you. ―from “Xenia” by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe and Friedrich Schiller, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch #36 - Unexpected Consequence Friends, before you utter the deepest, starkest truth, please pause, because straight away people will blame you for its cause. ―from “Xenia” by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe and Friedrich Schiller, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch #41 - Earth versus Heaven By doing good, you nurture humanity; but by creating beauty, you scatter the seeds of divinity. ―from “Xenia” by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe and Friedrich Schiller, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Keyword/Tags: Goethe, Schiller, epitaph, epigram, German, Germany, translation, love, kiss, friendship, desire, holy, holiness, earth, heaven, beauty, divinity, nature, spirit
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Feb 6, 2021
Feb 6, 2021 at 4:39 AM UTC
Translations of "Xenia" epigrams written in collaboration by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe and Friedrich Schiller.
These are modern English translations of the "Xenia" epigrams written in collaboration by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe and Friedrich Schiller. #2 - Verse versus Kiss She says an epigram’s too terse to reveal her tender heart in verse ... but really, darling, ain’t the thrill of a kiss much shorter still? ―from “Xenia” by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe and Friedrich Schiller, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch #5 - Criticism Why don’t I openly criticize the man? Because he’s a friend; thus I reproach him in silence, as I do my own heart. ―from “Xenia” by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe and Friedrich Schiller, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch #11 - Highest Holiness What is holiest? This heart-felt love binding spirits together, now and forever. ―from “Xenia” by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe and Friedrich Schiller, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch #12 - Love versus Desire You love what you have, and desire what you lack because a rich nature expands, while a poor one contracts. ―from “Xenia” by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe and Friedrich Schiller, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch #19 - Nymph and Satyr As shy as the trembling doe your horn frightens from the woods, she flees the huntsman, fainting, uncertain of love. ―from “Xenia” by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe and Friedrich Schiller, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch #20 - Desire What stirs the virgin’s heaving ******* to sighs? What causes your bold gaze to brim with tears? ―from “Xenia” by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe and Friedrich Schiller, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch #23 - The Apex I Everywhere women yield to men, but only at the apex do the manliest men surrender to femininity. ―from “Xenia” by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe and Friedrich Schiller, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch #24 - The Apex II What do we mean by the highest? The crystalline clarity of triumph as it shines from the brow of a woman, from the brow of a goddess. ―from “Xenia” by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe and Friedrich Schiller, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch #25 -Human Life Young sailors brave the sea beneath ten thousand sails while old men drift ashore on any bark that avails. ―from “Xenia” by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe and Friedrich Schiller, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch #35 - Dead Ahead What’s the hardest thing of all to do? To see clearly with your own eyes what’s ahead of you. ―from “Xenia” by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe and Friedrich Schiller, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch #36 - Unexpected Consequence Friends, before you utter the deepest, starkest truth, please pause, because straight away people will blame you for its cause. ―from “Xenia” by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe and Friedrich Schiller, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch #41 - Earth versus Heaven By doing good, you nurture humanity; but by creating beauty, you scatter the seeds of divinity. ―from “Xenia” by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe and Friedrich Schiller, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Keyword/Tags: Goethe, Schiller, epitaph, epigram, German, Germany, translation, love, kiss, friendship, desire, holy, holiness, earth, heaven, beauty, divinity, nature, spirit
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52
Needed someone to love someone to hold, someone to fall for Couldn't I have told You, that I wasn't cold Out of my mold I could not crowl Just a little bold That's what I needed to be, lord To confront the world No treasure, silver or gold Too young, I wasn't that old To take consideration, And of your love behold The world distorting your peace Your true self I could not uphold Couldn't you have managed to hold Hold onto me through madness and massacre How could I have believed We had no enemies When all I saw was war Our chances were rigged Our chances were not ours to deal Our places were not opportune Our cards were long fortold We held onto the unattainable We fell to the struggle from within We were fighting hard to rebuild What had already failed, Thinking the helpless Could reverse their inevitable fall In the questions, desperation, and pondering No catharsis, no purging, avails All the true revelations are lost Only un-resourceful quiescence stalls
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Sep 20, 2012
Sep 20, 2012 at 10:06 PM UTC
Reconnaissance of Failed Love
When my mind is at rest I think of peace and blissful things I see the unfettered and innocent smile of a new babe in arms Or the Omnipotence gilded arms outstretch showering blessings The shores of a pristine beach with blue waves marking times Silver sunset sprinkling magic across quiet waters with no stressing Or me sat at my fathers feet as he reads engrossed in his charmes My mind rests easy in places of warmth and enriching lovings My mind has no space to linger in the murkiness of failings I do not plunge dark dept to court the uninspiring s in terms To share company with wretches with wasted mental ecthings Eyes that see dew in darkness and acrimony in fruitless farms Voices made for howling dirges and apostles of negative cravings Demented downers who drink from the fountains of fallen vamps Satiated miserably they seek to retch their stench on followings My mind finds the luminous stars and praise their spark-lings It atunes to the silent melodies of sages who now sleep uncramp It relishes the delights of the million trillion wonders tinklings Its marvels the joys of the thousand mothers holding new champs Can share the lifting dreams of hopes for happy new beginnings Living is never about waste for the Creator avails no dumps For a mind that lives and grows in the Light is forever inspired and inspiring Copyright LaurencA.1stAugust2018.All rights reserved
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Aug 1, 2018
Aug 1, 2018 at 7:54 PM UTC
How I See .....
--Proverbs xxiv. 11, 12. 1. I have done I know not what,--what have I done? My brother's blood, my brother's soul, doth cry: And I find no defence, find no reply, No courage more to run this race I run Not knowing what I have done, have left undone; Ah me, these awful unknown hours that fly Fruitless it may be, fleeting fruitless by Rank with death-savor underneath the sun. For what avails it that I did not know The deed I did? what profits me the plea That had I known I had not wronged him so? Lord Jesus Christ, my God, him pity Thou; Lord, if it may be, pity also me: In judgment pity, and in death, and now. 2. Thou Who hast borne all burdens, bear our load, Bear Thou our load whatever load it be; Our guilt, our shame, our helpless misery, Bear Thou Who only canst, O God my God. Seek us and find us, for we cannot Thee Or seek or find or hold or cleave unto: We cannot do or undo; Lord, undo Our self-undoing, for Thine is the key Of all we are not though we might have been. Dear Lord, if ever mercy moved Thy mind, If so be love of us can move Thee yet, If still the nail-prints in Thy Hands are seen, Remember us,--yea, how shouldst Thou forget? Remember us for good, and seek, and find. 3. Each soul I might have succored, may have slain, All souls shall face me at the last Appeal, That great last moment poised for woe or weal, That final moment for man's bliss or bane. Vanity of vanities, yea all is vain Which then will not avail or help or heal: Disfeatured faces, worn-out knees that kneel, Will more avail than strength or beauty then. Lord, by Thy Passion,--when Thy Face was marred In sight of earth and hell tumultuous, And Thy heart failed in Thee like melting wax, And Thy Blood dropped more precious than the nard,-- Lord, for Thy sake, not ours, supply our lacks, For Thine own sake, not ours, Christ, pity us.
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If Thou Sayest, Behold, We Knew It Not
--Proverbs xxiv. 11, 12. 1. I have done I know not what,--what have I done? My brother's blood, my brother's soul, doth cry: And I find no defence, find no reply, No courage more to run this race I run Not knowing what I have done, have left undone; Ah me, these awful unknown hours that fly Fruitless it may be, fleeting fruitless by Rank with death-savor underneath the sun. For what avails it that I did not know The deed I did? what profits me the plea That had I known I had not wronged him so? Lord Jesus Christ, my God, him pity Thou; Lord, if it may be, pity also me: In judgment pity, and in death, and now. 2. Thou Who hast borne all burdens, bear our load, Bear Thou our load whatever load it be; Our guilt, our shame, our helpless misery, Bear Thou Who only canst, O God my God. Seek us and find us, for we cannot Thee Or seek or find or hold or cleave unto: We cannot do or undo; Lord, undo Our self-undoing, for Thine is the key Of all we are not though we might have been. Dear Lord, if ever mercy moved Thy mind, If so be love of us can move Thee yet, If still the nail-prints in Thy Hands are seen, Remember us,--yea, how shouldst Thou forget? Remember us for good, and seek, and find. 3. Each soul I might have succored, may have slain, All souls shall face me at the last Appeal, That great last moment poised for woe or weal, That final moment for man's bliss or bane. Vanity of vanities, yea all is vain Which then will not avail or help or heal: Disfeatured faces, worn-out knees that kneel, Will more avail than strength or beauty then. Lord, by Thy Passion,--when Thy Face was marred In sight of earth and hell tumultuous, And Thy heart failed in Thee like melting wax, And Thy Blood dropped more precious than the nard,-- Lord, for Thy sake, not ours, supply our lacks, For Thine own sake, not ours, Christ, pity us.
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46
10,000 early morning muses but sometimes late at night he brings enough sun to make 1000 poems look easy he is the leaven to our loaves and the tequila to our margaritas positively positive he works through the dark of night to bring us light and for the full effect of his efficacy drink dark coffee first then sufficiently caffeinated awakened and ready to read put in the work to discover the words his encouraging words of life and maybe you’ll burn to earn a bonus of how to survive so very little sleep for me personally its more about the lines between the lines than those not spoken at all or written at all rather realized                                    if I were to focus on others half as much as he then maybe my life would be less miserably my own more jokes than yokes and less wails to no avails no non-satiated regrets or cratered frustration rather peace in a storm of senility he writes for us all with a message of hope like the god of HP he sees we are radiating rays positivity pointed one and all and all together at the same time toward heaven he moves freely amongst our home page from whence did he come? from the fourth dimension he brings forth conjuration his style is love his style is hope his style is empathy his style is encouragement his style is truly who he is he is an early morning beacon bewildering he comes from the east to rise across our browsers seeking the infection of discovery in each hissy fit writ we write
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Sep 7, 2017
Sep 7, 2017 at 12:24 AM UTC
A Beacon from the East (for Nat)
10,000 early morning muses but sometimes late at night he brings enough sun to make 1000 poems look easy he is the leaven to our loaves and the tequila to our margaritas positively positive he works through the dark of night to bring us light and for the full effect of his efficacy drink dark coffee first then sufficiently caffeinated awakened and ready to read put in the work to discover the words his encouraging words of life and maybe you’ll burn to earn a bonus of how to survive so very little sleep for me personally its more about the lines between the lines than those not spoken at all or written at all rather realized                                    if I were to focus on others half as much as he then maybe my life would be less miserably my own more jokes than yokes and less wails to no avails no non-satiated regrets or cratered frustration rather peace in a storm of senility he writes for us all with a message of hope like the god of HP he sees we are radiating rays positivity pointed one and all and all together at the same time toward heaven he moves freely amongst our home page from whence did he come? from the fourth dimension he brings forth conjuration his style is love his style is hope his style is empathy his style is encouragement his style is truly who he is he is an early morning beacon bewildering he comes from the east to rise across our browsers seeking the infection of discovery in each hissy fit writ we write
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70
What avails of this sidereal year? If not my love with me ever. What if the flowers spread and disperse? Even they make the earth paradise. What though sweetest your incessant loving be? If now you're receding from me. What lies behind your heart to reside far? To me it seems all, you rift through the clouds like a lone star. Is it a gentle pride? It’s your fallacy my beautiful bride! Afraid of your restless youth and irresistible trait, I am drawn so close to you; so no one can drift us apart. My thoughts in your mind should often come across A timeless true love in your mind brighter than luminous stars That you never forget. Playing hot and cold never dishearten the resolute. Give and take in love is an enchanted gift Never drift away from true love otherwise pain will grow in rift. Where have you been all this while? Your sweet incessant love beguile. Setting moon besets, between us flitting moments Wretchedness came upon in disappointments. The days, the moments and the years all unfetched begone. All this time, our feelings had never lain dormant and forlorn There you dear staring at me willingly, Yet looking upon your grace continually.
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Nov 12, 2018
Nov 12, 2018 at 11:04 PM UTC
A Timeless True Love
When my pillow is drenched with tears, my mind filled with fear. She still avails herself to me Even when their cruelty ****** me, she gently dresses my wounds. When I can't  sleep at night, she is my dulcimer lullaby Even when my teeth's peak, when my cheecks lift, when my heart jumps so high And when my eyes gleam so bright. She still avails herself  to me She connects so well with ears, wipes my tears,erase my fears She is my music!
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Dec 12, 2024
Dec 12, 2024 at 1:11 AM UTC
She is my music
As of time remembers; The beauty of a rose. The lake holds still and quite … until the ripples flow. The fog of dawn still hovers … stately morning glides on and on Silence clings to memories … as of her scent avails upon. The heart beats slow and weary; A tear… reaches the cool still air As of time remembers … A rose and the dew now share. As of time remembers … the water now dances rings; Silence becomes of a melody; The sounds of nature sings Rocks and trees accompany Foggy mist serenely glows For as time remembers; Thus…, It is only for time to know.
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May 23, 2014
May 23, 2014 at 8:26 AM UTC
AS Of TIME REMEMBERS;
Illusions are both perceptions and deceptions......... We allow ourselves to believe them ..........to escape problems We wend our way thru a care free day And consume the .........perfect love And all that we are capable  of, Emerged in Fantsy, we create reality, To insure our denyability and Preserve our culpability, In the hopes that the perception Or deception, avails the....ILLUSIONS.....       JMF 1/7/115
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Jan 9, 2015
Jan 9, 2015 at 7:06 AM UTC
Illusions Revisited
Brethren, if A man is overtaken in any trespass, You who are Spiritual Should Restore such A One in A Spirit Of Gentleness, Considering Thyself lest You also be Tempted. Bear one another's Burden and so Fulfill the Law Of Christ. For if anyone thinks thyself to be something, when He is nothing, He Deceives Himself. But let each One examine His Own Work, and then He will have Rejoicing in Himself Alone, and not in Another. For each One Shall bear His own Load. Let Him who is taught the Word share in All Good things with Him who Teaches. Do not be deceived, GOD Is Not Mocked, for whatever A Man Sows, that He will also Reap. For He who Sows to His Flesh will of the Flesh Reap Corruption, but He who Sows to the Spirit will of the Spirit Reap Everlasting Life. And let Us not Grow Weary while doing Good, for in Due Season we Shall Reap if we do not Lose Heart. Therefore, as we have Opportunity, let us do Good to all, Especially to those who are of the Household Of Faith. See with what Large letters I have Written to You with my Own Hand! As many as Desire to make A Good Showing in the Flesh, these would Compel You to be Circumstance, only that they may not Suffer Persecution for the Cross Of Christ. For no even those who are Circumcised keep the Law, but they Desire to have Thee Circumcised that they may Boast in thy Flesh. But GOD forbid that I should Boast except in the Cross Of Our Lord Jesus Christ, by whom the World has been Crucified to Me, and I to thy World. For in Christ Jesus neither Circumcision nor Uncircumcision avails anything, but a New Creation. And as many as Walk According to this Rule, Peace and Mercy be Upon thy Israel Of GOD. From now on let no One Trouble Me, for I Bear in My Body the Marks Of the Lord Jesus. Brethren, the Grace Of Our Lord Jesus Christ Be With Your Spirit, Amen.! GOD Remain Our Strength, GOD Is Love.. GOD With Us.!
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Jun 6, 2015
Jun 6, 2015 at 3:57 PM UTC
I Believe That YOU Will Come Like A Rain.!!!
Brethren, if A man is overtaken in any trespass, You who are Spiritual Should Restore such A One in A Spirit Of Gentleness, Considering Thyself lest You also be Tempted. Bear one another's Burden and so Fulfill the Law Of Christ. For if anyone thinks thyself to be something, when He is nothing, He Deceives Himself. But let each One examine His Own Work, and then He will have Rejoicing in Himself Alone, and not in Another. For each One Shall bear His own Load. Let Him who is taught the Word share in All Good things with Him who Teaches. Do not be deceived, GOD Is Not Mocked, for whatever A Man Sows, that He will also Reap. For He who Sows to His Flesh will of the Flesh Reap Corruption, but He who Sows to the Spirit will of the Spirit Reap Everlasting Life. And let Us not Grow Weary while doing Good, for in Due Season we Shall Reap if we do not Lose Heart. Therefore, as we have Opportunity, let us do Good to all, Especially to those who are of the Household Of Faith. See with what Large letters I have Written to You with my Own Hand! As many as Desire to make A Good Showing in the Flesh, these would Compel You to be Circumstance, only that they may not Suffer Persecution for the Cross Of Christ. For no even those who are Circumcised keep the Law, but they Desire to have Thee Circumcised that they may Boast in thy Flesh. But GOD forbid that I should Boast except in the Cross Of Our Lord Jesus Christ, by whom the World has been Crucified to Me, and I to thy World. For in Christ Jesus neither Circumcision nor Uncircumcision avails anything, but a New Creation. And as many as Walk According to this Rule, Peace and Mercy be Upon thy Israel Of GOD. From now on let no One Trouble Me, for I Bear in My Body the Marks Of the Lord Jesus. Brethren, the Grace Of Our Lord Jesus Christ Be With Your Spirit, Amen.! GOD Remain Our Strength, GOD Is Love.. GOD With Us.!
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1
i. I watch my cigarette make the water and step from the dock onto my father’s boat. a large fish moves from beneath it and I sense the fish is of a tearful species of fish and sense that to it my father’s boat was a shadow. alas, fish, I am trying to know the first thing about boats. ii. my father makes it hard for the cops because he isn’t hurting anyone. he avails himself of the dense novel and uses his ***** to camouflage the riding horse. he goes headlong up the slide and enters a realm where he is embraced for blowing a tooth from his nose. by the time he’s using the seesaw as a surfboard, he feels the cops haven’t had enough. iii. my father is asleep on his back with a book across his chest and my sister nudges me like it’s never happened. I ask her what she sees and she sees a man missing his glasses because they are on his face. for me, it takes two fathers to begin the long process of choosing an epitaph. iv. I cannot mention my brother without mentioning how in that old farmhouse he saw a ghost leaning over the bathtub wearing nothing but a yellow rain slicker and how he used ten of his eleven years to push my father down the stairs while screaming don’t look don’t look enough to make ****** mary jealous. also how brother denied it later and called it a joke but I knew better because after the sighting I began to see my brother everywhere which made it easy for me to be there for my mother. v. presence is a petition.
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Feb 4, 2014
Feb 4, 2014 at 3:25 PM UTC
smokes
you wake and read the message on your phone which tells you something that is bitter cold at edge of summer now you are not old just middle-aged not in the best of tone a little silly too inclined to moan about the minor things yet not the gold measure of what can now be truly told you see the words a crab now eats her bone the tale's been written on a rotting page yet can be read by any human eye we can't escape the poison nor the taint nothing avails there is no use to rage each comfortable answer is a lie and yet she set the signal down in paint
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Jun 17, 2010
Jun 17, 2010 at 1:56 PM UTC
a form of art
Counting Chimneypots On this bed of cardboard dreams under Waterloo where steam trains trickle by above my head drip fed by the sheen of lights that float through cracks in cracked out nights and slower still the will that wills me to survive is locked behind and under baggy eyes where sleep to no avail avails me of no rest. This zest of bitter lemon juice splashes tells me what's the use of going on but go on I must if only just to spite those gentlemen with fountain pens who sit at desks on fancy chairs and never give a thought or care to me out here in there. I'll make them look let me strip off layers of ***** skin and pin it to the pinafores of petit fours and let them smell the smell I smell and eat? Well the devil always knows his own and knows who owns the rights to Waterloo and steam train nights. I'm breaking out of here once upon the time when my cluttered mind is clear and I can see beyond the grime where lines of strategy will parallel to set me free the straight the narrow streets where narrow minded minds are funded seconded from the corporation to adjust and tinker with my situation. I can take or leave them that other form that gentlemen can take swamp life swamped by life trampled underfoot by feet where the shoes do fit and do not rub or hurt a bit and once the touchpaper's lit there'll be no stopping me set free broken out broken in watch them gentlemen begin to worry then.
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Jun 3, 2013
Jun 3, 2013 at 4:04 AM UTC
Counting chimneypots
If up was down And left was right Then death was life If heaven was on earth Sadness would be hapiness Laughing as i cry The world would be a paradise If all the wars on earth were disregarded Peace avails all over Humanity united in accord Life more simpler.. If everything was normal In accordance with the creation purpose All toils disbanded Then  happy would have been me
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Oct 25, 2016
Oct 25, 2016 at 2:52 AM UTC
if only
Ne'er say the attempt naught avails, the toils and the struggles are vain, the betrayer nay drops nor fails, and as all has been, all doth remain. For while the waves that are breaking, seem to have no aching increase to gain -long ago, thru brooks & rills making... comes hushed --flowing in The Main.
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Jul 4, 2016
Jul 4, 2016 at 7:26 PM UTC
The Main
One shot fired into open air— As heavy curtains Draw dark corners Into our house, We turn away and run . Two shots fired into open air— The empty walls Resonate As we lay under A new, foreign sky. Three shots fired into open air— We try to forget- What is now history We walk down the streets With a name in an unfamiliar Tongue And our heads bent Last shot fired into open air— Our necks forced down, One of us is wailing; Two of us in silence- Nothing avails. Because We are a shade darker than their soils And there’s a cloth on our heads- Screaming.
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Nov 6, 2018
Nov 6, 2018 at 2:20 AM UTC
In a city where war hails
illusions are both perceptions and deceptions......... we allow ourselves to believe them to escape problems we wend our way thru a care free day and consume the .........perfect love and all that we are capable  of, emerged in Fantsy, we create reality, to insure our denyability and preserve our culpability,  in the hopes that the perception or deception, avails the.... ILLUSIONS.....       JMF 1/7/115
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Jan 8, 2015
Jan 8, 2015 at 5:43 PM UTC
Illusions.....
through knurly boughs surly éclat breaks, burn of gold that rips the vineyard’s breast; it cleavers slumber, all stray living shakes, and bids the mourner’s heart forsake its rest. o Godly Sun, thou art no tender flame, but grim as verdict in the twilight’s hour; thy light, as gars, enthrall the flesh with shame, and sear the fragile bloom of mortal flower. yet soft the Sea, with soughing lips of brine, still thumps her griefs against the granite shore; though wave on wave seems lush, of tone divine, she gnaws the stone till stone it is no more. thus love forays in twofold dread disguise: now sudden fire, now patient tidal spell; it strikes with glory, burns the blinded eyes, or wears the years to dust with late farewell. o Love, thou art a tyrant robed in grace, of sweet miasma, vile in delight; thou make a banquet of the heart’s own place, and leave the corpse to banquet with the night. no mortal choice avails ’gainst Love’s decree; its law is writ in fire and surging sea. naturally, fatally, all lovers know: the last, most faithful act is; let them go.
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Aug 23, 2025
Aug 23, 2025 at 6:32 AM UTC
love, that tyrant sweet
When the ringing of the bells awaken your soul And the earth beneath your feet crumble your bones When your body becomes but dust and sand And your soul flees to escape the unplanned When you stand before the creator himself And atone for your sins as though to prove yourself When the life you've once had flashes before your eyes And the sweet sting comes of not saying goodbye When the good and bad are weighed with a scale And all you can do is watch as the truth avails When you realize you've gone and time is up And nothing you do can stop you from sipping deaths cup When death becomes you and the judgment is final, And the faces you see are but primal When hell accepts you and tortures your soul Remember this time there’s no parole…
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Jun 18, 2014
Jun 18, 2014 at 8:45 AM UTC
Death
*Carrying the art of love to her ***** so lovely much pleasure she holds takes hold of the night sheer radiance reveals undertaking of noble verse breath avails idea of a poet thoughts.* by Debbie Brooks.. 2014
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Sep 27, 2014
Sep 27, 2014 at 6:49 PM UTC
She breaks into the night