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"beautifuly" poems
You are a Woman of Iron, Composed of high expectations, Forged with strong morals. Quenched by the coldness of the world. Your determination stands firm against all challenges. Victories are graciously and easily surrendered to you. Energetic and effective action. All around you, people take notice. Your are a Woman of Silk, Your feminine form, undeniably **** Your sweet odor is of respect and admiration. Your skin, amazingly smooth & firm. Your sensal lips draw me closer. Your smile, beautifuly contagious, brightens all the day. Your blue-gray eyes, sparkle of happiness and captures my soul Your sassy auburn hair, thick and shinney, bounces and flows as you graciously move about. Your voice is soothing, it sings to my heart. Your laughter, lifts my spirits, A perfect combination, you are... A woman of Iron & Silk!
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Nov 3, 2012
Nov 3, 2012 at 5:52 PM UTC
Woman of Iron & Silk (v1)
Wake up with a jump and a start. This isn't just prose, this is an art. To weave your stories, through and through, with broken pen and missing shoe. With mixed conviction, perfect diction, convicts swoon at your traditions. As long as you believe the lines make sense, they'll breathe your soul and lack pretense. Self-defense from knives to words and songs to birds, soaring o'er the roar and o'er the dives, through the skyscraper's windows, break a floor and seek to strive. Words are not just words, I've heard many a stern voice attacking a sturdy herd of wavering wordsmiths who have forgetten that they have a choice. Alliteration counts as craftful creation and the tale of poets shows it: these sentences are paintings of a nation. Decorating time and space and all its stations of making a stand. You're a poet, perfectly pathological, hurting through rose- colored opticals and bleeding for something beautifuly better, just getting lost calls but keep searching for the right letters; don't let the sands of time make you hate your written desert. It's worth your weary hands.
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Oct 10, 2018
Oct 10, 2018 at 8:49 PM UTC
Rhyme But No Reason
I've got a dozen words in my head, They sound like poetry, But a little dead, Like ghost of words, I would've said, But Ive changed. It's sounds like poetry, Cause it's both a blessing, And a curse, He screamed, To feel everything so, Deeply, It wasn't he, Was me, I said that, Ghost words, Ghost words, But baby, They're beautifuly, Arranged, Like the flowers at a new grave, Cause no body comes back, No body visits, These ghost words, Yeah poetry, Dead poets society,
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Jan 6, 2015
Jan 6, 2015 at 5:34 PM UTC
Ghost words
THESE EYES,THESE BEAUTIFUL EYES When you looked at me The fire of your eyes created Deep waves in the sea of my soul I am drowning deeper and deeper In the wide ocean of infinite love These eyes,these beautiful eyes Made me see deep in the ocean And imbibe wisdom from the sky These eyes,these beautiful eyes Painted kindness on my mind; And inscribed love on my heart These eyes,these beautiful eyes More beautiful than the starry night More sweet than the moonbeam kiss More kind than fragrance of perfumed garden These eyes,these beautiful eyes Marilyn Ann Francis Beautiful....EXCELLENT...MAF Angela Davis Natasha Nabokov Thank you, poets, you make my day Natasha Nabokov It's such a memorable poem, Matloob. Thank you Wow, Matloob, you should post your work in FM Online Magazine, I know that the editor would publish it! Michele Vizzotti-White Writing about eyes is such a great idea and u do it so beautifuly, u go on from the appearance to the way they make one feel in few but rich words, my fav line is the painted kindness in my mind eyes tell so much yet i have not read many poems about them Saalik Siddiqui Fantastic indeed. Demelia Denton Another beautiful poem Matloob Melanie Bingham Chapman very, very nicely written ! Natasha Nabokov Oh, you are so magnificently productive Larry Barmash What would you do if I sang out a tune Perry Alexander Nectar of love.
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Oct 17, 2014
Oct 17, 2014 at 10:25 PM UTC
THESE EYES,THESE BEAUTIFUL EYES
and on my breath i feel his talkative and in my heart feel his words so beautifuly evocative and in my mind feel his wonderful and whats so forbidden is so beautiful if only all the stupid fools knew they would all feel so wonderful too
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Jun 5, 2013
Jun 5, 2013 at 3:12 AM UTC
so wonderful
Glistening, glimmering in the night you make me feel so beautifuly bright flouting in the dark for the world to embrace but all i can see is your smiling face You stand on the hill top tall howling form be above all your fur so soft an warm your heart so calm even in this storm As the moon, my rays kiss your cheek giving you the comfort you seek i whisper in wind i am always here for you for Wolf and  Moons love is eternally true
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Feb 13, 2016
Feb 13, 2016 at 9:55 PM UTC
The Wolfs loving cry
have you ever sat up at night just sat there cigarette after cigarette a feeling of what the **** is going on why this and why that the pillow might as well be cement the dark inflicts more wounds than rest what keeps you up faces, expiriences **** i dont know its everything all rolled up what words exist in any language to describe it its your worst nightmares and the best high youve ever known they simultaneously intertwine to become something resembling addiction i mean what else could it be its the best gift a mind could be given yet drives you to see your dark edges like fire and gasoline its beautifuly destructive but like ashes on the burnt plains green grass may grow again
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Sep 3, 2013
Sep 3, 2013 at 12:39 AM UTC
insomnia (forgive the typos its late)
little scraps of paper strewn across the hall like its over but with crimson stars on musty bedsheets we realize it has only begun. good, better, best, work early so you aren't late, late as in 6 feet under... just push it all away with high scores and hard work. who cares about your bleeding heart or those odd marks you can't see from far away. youre a star! stars don't take breaks, they burn forever, and then implode. silently. beautifuly tragic. "what a way to go!" the sticker says. one hundred percent.
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Jun 5, 2015
Jun 5, 2015 at 10:47 AM UTC
June 15th, 9:00 P.M.
no place, i would rather be. sitting on golden sand, by sea. once single, then dyad, now triad. growing in love our little family. and the sun shines down glad, and we chase away, lingering sad and we smile, the summer day long. and i watch play, boy and proud dad but in other climes, a sad song, plays in a room where life is not long and there is much pain and somehow it is so, very wrong, that some live and gain and some who, seeded by bad grain, are short changed, days of life and  deseperate death reigns. but in both places, love conquers strife and in both places love is beautifuly rife. love, lives hopeful and large, everywhere because whether  long or short, we all live under damocle'an knife.....
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Apr 18, 2014
Apr 18, 2014 at 11:19 PM UTC
the point being...(landscape please)
i wish I could write beautifuly, Fluently, As you do, Abstract, With the knack of adding ferocity, Leaves you breathless, But content, Art, But ugly, Rugged and rough, Yet lovely, I'm a child, Nothing more, Weak in the act of living, I could do better, Better, Could I do? I wanna write like you, As if the words were rolling off Gods tongue, Onto yours,
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Jan 8, 2015
Jan 8, 2015 at 12:46 AM UTC
Wrote
Trapped in an prescripted plan Held back by unwritten rules of the human clan I wander down the dark alleyways and I hear them whisper You should do that! You should do this! You're not a kid anymore stop the whimper! Forget those foolish naive dreams! As I get older those whispers get louder I hear them scream Go to college! Find a partner! Work from dust till dawn to satisfy the hunger for the papers so intoxicating, so beautifuly green! But what is this for if it doesn't bring me joy? What if I don't want to live the same boring life as they all did? egoistic without purpose so horribly materialistic No! That is not the path I want to take I'll rather be broke than fake I'll rather be single than in the arms of a snake I'll rather be uncertain than certain about every little detail Set me free so I can be what I was always destined to be I'll find real happines for me and I don't need you all to agree
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Mar 16, 2018
Mar 16, 2018 at 7:17 AM UTC
Set me free
And how do i start now the knife in my chest a wound where light enters me next its a strange feeling this pain in me its beautifuly stinging , the empty place where your body used to lay. the heartache of your disappearance is giving me a new breath my flesh burns for the feeling my fingers long to reach your skin and as i think of this i no longer see you i see me
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Sep 27, 2012
Sep 27, 2012 at 5:19 PM UTC
Diego
the rain falls, like a hymn, upon the windows. a song of hope, sent from grey and sombre sky. given to an adoring ground accepted as communion and restoration. listened to from within, watched by wondering eyes, the holiness of nature. ....beautifuly divine....
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Feb 21, 2015
Feb 21, 2015 at 4:39 AM UTC
summer chorale
"I hate you but thank you for letting go!" Everyone heard the words you said They all believed, chattering and confused But no one is better than him above He knows everything While you knows what it means The person hearing it under numerous individuals standing in the crowd Wishing he could dug a whole to hide Hoping that he didn't did it on the first place and regret Seeing you as beautifuly strong Standing in the stage with chins up and resolute eyes Lips curved into a mesmerizing arc
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Aug 3, 2018
Aug 3, 2018 at 9:39 PM UTC
Knows and Means
As the thoughts of Night cruelly meander I await your light like a Czech Leander to guide me over the river of sadness my Hero's arms purifying my madness after I appear soaked by the nightly swim ready to hear your voice that sings like the most beautifuly flock of birds you are a true shepherd of my mental herds
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Apr 4, 2021
Apr 4, 2021 at 11:14 AM UTC
Hero to my Leander
the horizon was a painting i saw its blurried lines today erased with the flick of a wrist repainted with the color grey was it an ilusion? or was it just me? seeing what i wanted to see a world of my own to recreate to mold, to shape, to paint everything beautifuly unfinished everything tragically unmoving am i the horizon?
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Mar 4, 2018
Mar 4, 2018 at 6:14 PM UTC
Fading