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"beknownst" poems
Tip Your hat And curtsy low The masses so mandate absolute guile A handshake, a smile, a proper and refined bow! To adorn thy head and semble wit And do your best! Take pride with etiquette If not informed Ye won't last a mile And differentiation between animals distinguishes you, Resplendent child Wash your hair and underclothes with soap Lest ye resemble sow And goodness dear Have I forgotten now? Always remember to smile! So I'll take your Winter clothes with zest I'll scramble on point No unruly mess Oh, did i forget your coat? No, I've got it, relax, care for a smoke? My apologies, please forgive my latency It must be warm in here for my blood In fact... Boiling over kettle within Prevent me from committing sin I do wish to vent Pick up this pen And release red wells from his dainty, fragile neck Or... The underbelly. It's beknownst to me entrails are thick Now whatever shall I do with this fresh clutter? I'll act for free, so cordially! With my chivalrous lines But can you, my friend, respond in kind? After all, it's only common courtesy It's over now, my fantasy It dissipates with urgency And this is my confession Yes Imbibed in me from every grueling, tedious lesson An implication of uniformity The daydreams borne from the perfunctory
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Jun 30, 2014
Jun 30, 2014 at 7:56 PM UTC
Daydream From August 11th, 1843
It all comes down to the point of sale where will it take you what will it say will it last the posed question - Does functionality mesh with enjoyment?​ Or will it lead to a return to a life simpler, or more bare. You choose. His impressionable desire lies within the visage of transaction the tipping point plagued by a facade or impregnated with passion A mix of both does the world fine each art a separate truth for a path beknownst to the two breeds. When does it become known to all without a ploy, truth dusted with smoke The target no longer the focus but the focus of mass involvement in a movement so confidential They gather to protest the knowledge sought. Feeding the electrical color of the enemy allowing for a dry flood to choke the air keeping the gray alive.
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Nov 10, 2012
Nov 10, 2012 at 12:13 PM UTC
Traveling Salesman
Troglodytism. get betwixt thy cave **** rats. amass!!! beyond the wooded canvas of life. and lay beside thy corpse of agony in the pits of all foul'd demon beknownst to thou's angst. there lay the chalice of life. Oh to lay in the darkness' o' to bask in the decadence of no light. Anti heat forth go ye unto distraction. To over sensual to photopic cancer all bio centric failure that reveals itself in the concord of vestige only one only one who's skin, brines to salt. Only one who's writhed on the depth of the cave sub terrain. Becoming convoluted with ulcers. In the brain. Stomach esophagus. Till veins squelch the blood from oxygen as gills. Sea water. till muscle over sinews, Myomeres. till acts of mycotic deprecations elude your own grey. Destruction. And sap what is left the bends corrode all health. You eek out a full metabolism. You finish all hopes with each loathsome meal intake. death. Oysters take over. They create their home shell of man. Disabled to a merman, made, morose. Barnacles infest recesses, chasms that held mountains of bountiful moral. Filled till bursting in the case fit for a brain, but these ocean vermin walk the tightropes of this goblins neural bag. Tearing each synapse. Like the innards of a necrotic recluse. I am the dying vagabond of the ocean. Finally succumbing to its ethereal pitch covered floor, where no reflections mourn for me and ghost wail me no remorse, as I metamorphose. Into, detritus.
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Mar 18, 2013
Mar 18, 2013 at 1:23 PM UTC
Ocean Coitus
Spark up my cancer stick as the mist rolls in. Enchanted, I sit on these steps and catch water rivulets while holding my breath, the smoke entwining with secrets I've shed, all the while cherishing the thought of shared bed. My wicked streak no longer welcome here there's no room in our nest for this shame in my chest I find myself nourishing what hasn't happened yet, flourishing the tender side of my soul in the dead of night I sit here alone not cold, for beknownst to me, my inner vision in sight, orange cones surround the scene, that cannot obscure moonlight, oxygen growing in trees and all the famed whispers cavorting with me. All congenial with our convictions, this depiction of snow Winter sent has me lifted. Every fence i lean over has only meant that I see you. Spring sprouts as a human, your hope makes me feel new. I've hit the ground running to pick up your pace, but not for a second do I feel in a race. We have hit a harmonious stride, and Dear, I do find that your words are the grace in this ephemeral place. I'm right beside you smiling because home is your face.
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Dec 27, 2014
Dec 27, 2014 at 12:50 AM UTC
Secrets of the City Fog
This poem is no Billy’s babble, I know this girl who tends to dabble, Dabble with unkind creatures. She’s beautious, dark, and loyalty-tied, Non-gregarious, starry-eyed; Starry-eyed for the inexpedient. Wit is written on skin so fair Eyes like skies, too deep to pare. But pare her idea of ideal men. Challenge, with whom her morals meet, Picks scoundrels, wreaking calm deceit. Deceitful words are hooks to her. Beknownst to all but she herself, These rogues take riches, turned to pelf. Pelf, for she is better than them. Too low they sink below her merit, Her virtue, they could stand to inherit, Inheriting her in return.
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Nov 13, 2014
Nov 13, 2014 at 8:09 AM UTC
Hapless
Spark up my cancer stick as the mist rolls in Enchanted as I sit on these steps and catch water rivulets while holding my breath, the smoke entwining with secrets I've shed all the while cherishing the thought of shared bed. My wicked streak no longer welcome here there's no room in our nest for this shame in my chest I find myself nourishing what hasn't happened yet, flourishing the tender side of my soul in the dead of night I sit here alone not cold, for beknownst to me, my inner vision in sight, orange cones surround the scene, that cannot obscure moonlight, oxygen growing in trees and all the famed whispers cavorting with me All congenial with our convictions, this depiction of snow Winter sent has me lifted Every fence i lean over has only meant that I see you Spring sprouts as a human, your hope makes me feel new I've hit the ground running to pick up your pace, but not for a second do I feel in a race We have hit a harmonious stride, and Dear I do find that your words are the grace in this ephemeral place I'm right beside you smiling because home is your face
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Dec 15, 2014
Dec 15, 2014 at 12:55 PM UTC
Secrets of the City Fog
I'm spent To this end, my life I never meant To this end, my eyes Opened my soul's descent *And where the wind blows You shall find me And where the sea flows You shall be drowned in me And where life grows You shall flourish through me Beknownst to you Or not For I am everywhere* And in the darkness As I ignore calls to warmth I open my eyes Closing in; my life's ascent
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Sep 16, 2018
Sep 16, 2018 at 12:34 PM UTC
Up at night