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"beautific" poems
The dews of heaven She downs like the morning A mellifluous creature, surfed ashore Myrtle amid thorns; Quiescent Heart of a royal; highness Resplendent in garment of sapphire; radiant The lady gouldian finch Melodies inspires ataraxia Beautific as wysteria It’s her loving heart beaming smiles Stretches as thousand miles Incandescent as candle on a hill Beacon of hope Oh hear The susurrations of a Gold-Mantled Rosella . Tj. kwame
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Apr 30, 2016
Apr 30, 2016 at 9:25 AM UTC
The lady gouldian finch
Old broken soul. You seek the timeless eternal. First you must know yourself. Seek until love burns like an inferno. Which consumes, but does not destroy.  To be captured, and yet free. Breathe.  One day you will be united. The beautific vision is on the horoizon The encompassing is at your fingertips, But it is still beyond your grasp. Believe.
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Mar 10, 2013
Mar 10, 2013 at 8:32 PM UTC
Old Broken Soul
and it is, when i am with you.... i shed all my outer coverings, take the sledge hammer to my walls, drop pretence and artifice, like beggar's rags and stand. my scarred and naked body, before you..... with beautific but battered mind  intact and heart beaten and besieged i stand naked before you and you...... gather me up... and love me with your besieged and beaten heart , battered but beautiful mind and scarred and naked skin and it is when we are together.... like this that our weary souls entwine and provide the love that allows us to believe we are both human...                                     .... and divine. and give strength to each other...
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Jul 20, 2014
Jul 20, 2014 at 4:58 PM UTC
we are, two entities....(best in landscape)
Astralman, Taketh me where thine spacejuice is rejuvenating Wherein hopeless romantic's come out in the open No waiting room's No waiting As I can be patient only soo long Until the light burns out I'm strange For I do not like crowds That brings panic and intrusion I seeketh reality Not a magician Nor illusion As mine old world seems to know, I seeketh enlightenment Wherein trees do grow Where animals talk And eagles moan Songs of beautific mantra's Stitched in by unknown astronomical knowledge!!
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Jun 7, 2015
Jun 7, 2015 at 7:06 PM UTC
Astralman..
Islets of a many lets venting cuts inside tented lightening Of ghosts that rent with zest Fading in and out as injusticed On the path of lonely strokes above the unseen finds and tides The very many divergent corners Of hearts painted with uncare Rotten on acres of reality sink above manners of the uncare On field of an imagination trip where I need to juggle young Under the millions stars and starts the change tracks and rotten traps as the seconds on the clock ticks as the steam rises above the reefs Of an advent and beautific ripples
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Oct 9, 2017
Oct 9, 2017 at 11:27 AM UTC
Ghosted Islets
we knew capitalism had turned ugly after the first lemonade stand drive by children denounced their parents when their eyes were opened to supply side economics and demand side criminal enterprise plunging on in a premeditated stupor they floated between the tables a jackpot here a jackhammer there a cartesian Bingo bonanza elsewhere going on but the scantiest of gossip it's a fill in the blank world where a suitcase full of dead mockingbirds found on the late bus idling at the terminal against the smell of ***** nightmares constituted a reunion of the ever faithful filling the night with interrogation we had some exceptional men in our unit dropped into trouble spots too hot to touch setting up sensors and detectors and bait scholars statesmen jurists bishops and a bent maggoty reeking poet a sleight of hand magnum opus abuser surrounded by the burning bodies of everyone he ever knew yet all is not a ham bone up the *** I had just cleaned up my syntax and grammar with maple syrup and golden dairy butter so I'll put off proofing this mess for another day too old to dig up reliable proof anyhow my brain's already in a specimen jar it lived a mythical fairy tale life worth a transfer to the end of the line to the ancient carnival of phantoms so I sent in my manicurist security guard from the tropical hammock islands their scissors going snip snip snip rattling the bones of the dead if this is just a make believe universe I'd hate to see the real one but I'm pretty sure space is continuous and spewing rhyme out of the hearts of stars but what the hell do I know it all sounds so fresh and dewy assuring me that people of greater densities the beautific the anointed the the sanctified **** up real stupid just like we do forgive me but my thoughts have all been stolen the end point is eluding me as a point as an area we'll eventually get there From "Engine of Didactic Beauty" available on Amazon
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Jul 14, 2023
Jul 14, 2023 at 6:01 PM UTC
Newborn Boy Tossed Out Car Window
we knew capitalism had turned ugly after the first lemonade stand drive by children denounced their parents when their eyes were opened to supply side economics and demand side criminal enterprise plunging on in a premeditated stupor they floated between the tables a jackpot here a jackhammer there a cartesian Bingo bonanza elsewhere going on but the scantiest of gossip it's a fill in the blank world where a suitcase full of dead mockingbirds found on the late bus idling at the terminal against the smell of ***** nightmares constituted a reunion of the ever faithful filling the night with interrogation we had some exceptional men in our unit dropped into trouble spots too hot to touch setting up sensors and detectors and bait scholars statesmen jurists bishops and a bent maggoty reeking poet a sleight of hand magnum opus abuser surrounded by the burning bodies of everyone he ever knew yet all is not a ham bone up the *** I had just cleaned up my syntax and grammar with maple syrup and golden dairy butter so I'll put off proofing this mess for another day too old to dig up reliable proof anyhow my brain's already in a specimen jar it lived a mythical fairy tale life worth a transfer to the end of the line to the ancient carnival of phantoms so I sent in my manicurist security guard from the tropical hammock islands their scissors going snip snip snip rattling the bones of the dead if this is just a make believe universe I'd hate to see the real one but I'm pretty sure space is continuous and spewing rhyme out of the hearts of stars but what the hell do I know it all sounds so fresh and dewy assuring me that people of greater densities the beautific the anointed the the sanctified **** up real stupid just like we do forgive me but my thoughts have all been stolen the end point is eluding me as a point as an area we'll eventually get there From "Engine of Didactic Beauty" available on Amazon
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