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"awashed" poems
What did you say to me? How did you say to be? Scent of the flowers sweet, I fell off the path; the beat. Metamorphoses buzzing creep. Bumblebee, Bumblebee Nectar pollen and wiggle-dance, Tear off the shirt and pants, Without it I’m incomplete, Rotting in self-defeat, Awashed in a wild sea, Bumblebee, Bumblebee Buzzin’ so high and flyin’ Honeycomb drunken Mayan, Falling west, rising east, The party will not surcease, While I am the Bumble-beast! Bumblebee, Bumblebee I am the Bumblebee, Bumblebee, Bumblebee I am the Bumblebee The flight it takes off and from, As flowers of life become, Praying up to the Sun, What am I imagining?  (image-gen-nun) August vino de lum Bumblebee, Bumblebee Bumblebee, Bumblebee I am the Bumblebee, Bumblebee, Bumblebee I am the Bumblebee
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Jun 14, 2016
Jun 14, 2016 at 5:07 PM UTC
Bumblebee
***Hear ye! Hear ye!*** Oh how I love concrete poetry! Itching to write and sculpt and mould. Twiddle my thumbs as I thought to myself silently. Reckon I'd render my musings in italics and in bold! ***Hear ye! Hear ye!*** 30 days of concrete, wouldn't you fancy?! These poems, they come in various shapes. Would you consider them "poetic eye candy"? If I fashioned poems to look like grapes! ***Hear ye! Hear ye!*** Awashed with excitement! I can't wait to share! Fantastical, delicious and ultimately succulent! A wonderful spread of such wordy fare! ***Hear ye! Hear ye!*** When is this... GREAT BIG AFFAIR? On the morrow, I'll dish out the first serving! Do tune in if you so do care... 30 days of concrete! The shape fest is beginning!
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Nov 13, 2015
Nov 13, 2015 at 9:30 AM UTC
Hear Ye! Hear Ye!
The Rent-a-Mob loonies, the gangsters and the Racists damaged scums of society and contemporary politics Ignorant arrogant sociopaths who want it all for nothing Indulgent wasters in nation awashed with opportunities In idle union they scream, feed us poor and **** the Rich Strangers come Poland, Bulgaria, India and all over to work in farms, hospitals, hotels and Constructions Building futures and faring in endeavours with sweat Crimson gangs and Renta Mobs states we serve nobody **** the wealth makers, **** the parasites and let's drink Our shyster gangs of Revo-comrades and malcontents See killing fields, whereas strangers toil and find rich pickings Our Revos Distract, confuse, sow seeds of dissent, make strife Blame all others, lie and decieve, fling indulgent political turds Rent brainwashed Mobs,into ***** bridgard to do their ***** work We all know life is unfair and even roses have imperfections Some are born to riches in spades and some born to beggars in dusts Those with time, sit and ask God why, just a fact of life to accept But from dust has risen billionaires, whilst riches have made duds Insane Crimson sits in spurious guise and odious fallacy playing God Yeh, **** the Rich and feed the poor, why hide and use Rent a mob Why not air your case in broad daylight and stand your conviction The coward you are knows it hold no sanity for those with sense Except for thieves, the workshy and wasters who cheat to survive In your city of merits aplenty, Revo-crimson is beneath contempt
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Dec 13, 2018
Dec 13, 2018 at 9:56 AM UTC
Rent-a-Mob fable of Fallacy..........
The Rent-a-Mob loonies, the gangsters and the Racists damaged scums of society and contemporary politics Ignorant arrogant sociopaths who want it all for nothing Indulgent wasters in nation awashed with opportunities In idle union they scream, feed us poor and **** the Rich Strangers come Poland, Bulgaria, India and all over to work in farms, hospitals, hotels and Constructions Building futures and faring in endeavours with sweat Crimson gangs and Renta Mobs states we serve nobody **** the wealth makers, **** the parasites and let's drink Our shyster gangs of Revo-comrades and malcontents See killing fields, whereas strangers toil and find rich pickings Our Revos Distract, confuse, sow seeds of dissent, make strife Blame all others, lie and decieve, fling indulgent political turds Rent brainwashed Mobs,into ***** bridgard to do their ***** work We all know life is unfair and even roses have imperfections Some are born to riches in spades and some born to beggars in dusts Those with time, sit and ask God why, just a fact of life to accept But from dust has risen billionaires, whilst riches have made duds Insane Crimson sits in spurious guise and odious fallacy playing God Yeh, **** the Rich and feed the poor, why hide and use Rent a mob Why not air your case in broad daylight and stand your conviction The coward you are knows it hold no sanity for those with sense Except for thieves, the workshy and wasters who cheat to survive In your city of merits aplenty, Revo-crimson is beneath contempt
Continue reading...
25
My anomalous trip thus far has been dichotomous. Harbingers motivate my advent: a chorus. Acceptance of frolic ventures sent: a quest. My sneakers meet familiar soil at last. Designed to be a panacea, yet I fall ill. Sleets of rain impact my soul: a slight chill. Hazed trance, awashed clean of all acrimony. A lurid stroll, downhill, parallel, perfunctory. I, a stoic mercenary, avenging my ties tonight. Arcane magic flow through my veins, my sight. Moisture sparkle, glistens through my mental maze. Resistance, control: I attempt to regain ablaze. Synaptics fuse, burn, misfire, discombobulate. Higher functions remain: calculus, formulate. Veritas! Visual focus be on 2D layer sharp. Disintegrated data sung with melodious harp. Laissez-faire slayed by Communist meritocracy. Mental hierarchy arise from wayward sorcery. My affection for her nets only melancholia. The amity cease... yet reborn by spying cornea. Upon a hill from sea to sea brings forth diplomacy. Lively lads, enshrouded in black; they be prodigies. Persons of worth: one stranger joins their ranks. If my creed offend, beg you pardon pranks. Silent drizzle softly sings of night and majesty. Lament under moonlight, behold gray sanctity. Ne'er shall dreadful turmoil befall our facilities. Literature conceals such divine secrecy.
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Aug 28, 2010
Aug 28, 2010 at 5:15 AM UTC
Felicitous Hindsight
Don't ever get down at Remount Road on the train's brief pause. Once I couldn't resist when through the window I can't say what beckoned me. The sky after a drizzle was awashed blue and its miniature carvings on the puddles sprung from my steps like thousand dreams. There on the unshaded platform were faces as puzzled as mine. I didn't intend to detrain here, I spoke, we didn't too, the voices echoed but it felt so like the place we wanted to be but missed. Walk me barefoot on the sodden earth, a girl offered her hand, recount to me the unfinished stories, make me a home. I won't miss this time, I was crying. I have recounted the story to many but they all have eyed me like I am mad. They only repeat there's no Remount Road on this route.
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Apr 12, 2018
Apr 12, 2018 at 11:24 AM UTC
The Station
Always hold onto the truth, Don't let other sway your heart. Don't compramise yourself, For the sake of temporial grooviness. Be deeply funky, Be seperate from the crowd. Thats awashed with normality, By standing on a firm foundation. Never waiver your love of faith, In all that you do.
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Feb 1, 2010
Feb 1, 2010 at 12:45 AM UTC
Abnormality
Born and reared in the city of Bridgeport, where the trash arose from Long Island Sound. The seagulls appeared, then vanished from sight, wafting and diving through radiant sky. Some inlets and harbours, lapping the shore, while sounds of young voices screamed with delight. Marvelous moments to form our delight. Skipping through the busy streets of Bridgeport. Heading south down Park, to visit the shore. Where all you could hear was the visual sound, of airplanes and balloons, gracing the sky, alive in my mind but quite out of sight. The crystalline sparkle came into sight, to everyone’s pure and simple delight. We watched as the clouds emerged from blue sky, over the stunted skyline of Bridgeport. Suddenly the clamour, the noise, the sound came crashingly close to the rocky shore. With silence removed from that muffled sound, bemoaning the graphite and speckled sky. Searching and groping for inner delight. pasteurized thoughts over the sandy shore. Memorized pictures brought into our sight, a lost time; in the bowels of Bridgeport. Sail boats and tankers came upon the shore, out of the distance, and into my sight. All I could hear was breath of the sound, with glee, laughter, and a certain delight. The slums became the city of Bridgeport, reaching endlessly toward the dancing sky. Adrift; at peace, and awashed by the sound, flippantly airy as ground touched the sky. I strolled and smiled with love lost delight, scampered along on our copious shore. Aware that my flight was love at first sight, on the coast, in the city of  Bridgeport. Amped delight amid the light of our sound misconstrued Bridgeport scraped close to the sky, up to the shore and again out of sight.
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Apr 10, 2011
Apr 10, 2011 at 5:15 PM UTC
Bridgeport (A Sestina)
Born and reared in the city of Bridgeport, where the trash arose from Long Island Sound. The seagulls appeared, then vanished from sight, wafting and diving through radiant sky. Some inlets and harbours, lapping the shore, while sounds of young voices screamed with delight. Marvelous moments to form our delight. Skipping through the busy streets of Bridgeport. Heading south down Park, to visit the shore. Where all you could hear was the visual sound, of airplanes and balloons, gracing the sky, alive in my mind but quite out of sight. The crystalline sparkle came into sight, to everyone’s pure and simple delight. We watched as the clouds emerged from blue sky, over the stunted skyline of Bridgeport. Suddenly the clamour, the noise, the sound came crashingly close to the rocky shore. With silence removed from that muffled sound, bemoaning the graphite and speckled sky. Searching and groping for inner delight. pasteurized thoughts over the sandy shore. Memorized pictures brought into our sight, a lost time; in the bowels of Bridgeport. Sail boats and tankers came upon the shore, out of the distance, and into my sight. All I could hear was breath of the sound, with glee, laughter, and a certain delight. The slums became the city of Bridgeport, reaching endlessly toward the dancing sky. Adrift; at peace, and awashed by the sound, flippantly airy as ground touched the sky. I strolled and smiled with love lost delight, scampered along on our copious shore. Aware that my flight was love at first sight, on the coast, in the city of  Bridgeport. Amped delight amid the light of our sound misconstrued Bridgeport scraped close to the sky, up to the shore and again out of sight.
Continue reading...
39
I know little of the fury And the misanthropic scurry Of the little ones inside ourselves, That we hide awashed away. Of what I do know daunting, Is the image left so haunting In the visage of so wanting And the love I lead astray. She came and went so tragically And took her perfect majesty I think myself so callously, That I could never her betray. Were I spared a single gaze, From eyes I could spend countless days, I would dream of every way, To have her not so far away.
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Aug 22, 2013
Aug 22, 2013 at 11:01 PM UTC
To Pine.
My soul is awashed Not by the light of the moon But by the darkness
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Aug 2, 2016
Aug 2, 2016 at 10:45 PM UTC
Longing
I loved you once but a long (timed) ago When a moonlighted flood awashed our naked bodies lying so still in affinity No moonlight now no longer seventeen Looking back it was all just impossible A longing sweetened dream Stand up , walking to the open window Looking out , into the heart of midnight feeling , reliving , lost eternities Oh bye and by as I longingly sigh Wishing emptiness would last forever in the hallowed soul of midnight No expectations or derivations Midnight sheds her skin burned by moonlight's callous lies .
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Apr 13, 2015
Apr 13, 2015 at 9:31 PM UTC
Moon (Lies) Light
I wish for silence I wish for peace I want you all to be silent I don't want to hear you any more. I feel awashed with voices talking at once. SHUT UP I'm begging please just one night of peace. I don't want to care I don't want to lay my heart bare I don't want to bare my soul SHUT UP I'm sorry your dead I'm sorry you left things unsaid I'm sorry they can't see or hear you Just get out of MY HEAD
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Jul 27, 2014
Jul 27, 2014 at 7:52 PM UTC
Voices in my head
. a black and white hole cut out from space a mechanical pulse a click from the pendulum the ticket booth opens the waiting area that is awashed by glances the light that has passed the aperture into our darkest of rooms
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Oct 23, 2014
Oct 23, 2014 at 6:19 PM UTC
surprised supervices
It's been a month of Sundays Since it is that I set face Anywhere near this band of angels In this most Holy Sacred Place Guilt may overwhelm me Shame may do me in This day set forth may break me Great sinner that I am No one is less deserving For I am the least of these As I am covered in God's glory Awashed with an inner peace The days that I've been vacant Are all apart in the grand scheme of things Bringing me to my knees in my need of saving And back to the Eternal King As my brothers and sisters in Christ surround me Pouring out love, not ones to judge Tears of joy like flowing fountains As another Prodigal son returns
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Jun 25, 2014
Jun 25, 2014 at 8:16 AM UTC
Back At Church
I had arrived after the long trek, Richer as I had experienced the frozen hearth that sits above, The clueless heads, Met atop the clouds, The tracks sent a wind tunnel, forcing our backs, to the limits,to the corner of the world, The nexus that, Formed our nostalgia, Even traveled beyond, reached over our pre-existent, omnipresent, pre-frontal cortex, breaking context, calculated alignments, evaporated, Translucent beings, Whispered, Trailed, Washed along the frost, That bath of pure biting numbness, Meandering souls awashed, Clamoring to fiery shores. Warm bodies, Women, Good Food & Drink, Not in this forsaken place, An outlandish request, From otherworldly lands.
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Nov 14, 2014
Nov 14, 2014 at 3:21 PM UTC
UNTITLED #31
The green eucalyptus were in array as I walked at the edge of the earth consumed in the midst of the unknown or was it just a figurative forced mist illusioned on pictures in depths of mine whilst the sun rays shone light through these windows into my withins and my eyelids were steady in the middle at the centre where all the spirits awashed and life vanished like an uncertain rainbow Yet I was so young at heart, unable to see and looking back, I can’t seem to understand or even hold tight to that mystery angel the one that brought me to the city of the sun in another time, after another rapture where psalms whispered of an eternity and sonnets were effervescence and marginalised and the questions were sought and internalised and happiness became the solid I consumed at the heart of paradise where it all fades Come yee symphonies arise to the skies above the sun each holding to the other Let me just follow merry and nourished hoping to be tangled in the lost rhythms of the sun
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Apr 7, 2019
Apr 7, 2019 at 4:58 AM UTC
The city of the sun
Black sands awashed by crystal waters & slate gray cliffs adorn the countryside Perched atop the highest bluff our home ignites the way for the lost & the weary. I, The Mariner, know all too well the change brought forth by the ebb & flow of the tide. I've braved the seas & watched men die. I've seen the beauty of starlight skies. Beholden to none other than my vessel and bride I yearn to sail one last time beneath the starlight skies.
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Jan 9, 2019
Jan 9, 2019 at 10:57 PM UTC
The Mariner
Feeling felt false And I felt fake. I only give You only take You were fire I burnt like ice, Together we detonate Yet still we resonate. Into you I fall deeply My energy: lost, awashed or equal I never found my equal Would I dare where gamblers may? Or fall back into dismay Would I run like I'm unseen Or return to the same routine. Could I? Head under the guillotine. Would I? Red in a different scene Lost but still keen Love still never mean. Was I really me. Did I really change. Did I truly grow? When life got slow.
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Jul 27, 2017
Jul 27, 2017 at 4:06 AM UTC
In Your Presence
The moon pulls back the shimmering blue sheets before the rising sun A world awashed overnight Made anew What was here last night is gone today, replaced by something never seen before Time here is reset again Another chance Is it another chance for all? Are we to begin each day as if yesterday never was? To try again, again, and again To learn Duality restrains for the sake of a conscious far too young to grasp the ultimate truth Harnessed by necessity We relinquish
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Nov 26, 2017
Nov 26, 2017 at 9:21 AM UTC
A recipe for rabbit ******* stuffing