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"bemuse" poems
Our lovestory may not be the sweetest story, It may not taste like a berry, It may not be as famous as cherry, But I assure you that you are the man I want to marry! So, if the time comes that you need to choose... Please, don't let my heart be bruised Because if that happens, I'll be in a bad case of blues For I don't want to be in bemuse... For my love for you is genuine And I don't want it to be ruined. For as long as we have faith with each other, Our fate will never be bothered.
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Jun 3, 2018
Jun 3, 2018 at 6:12 AM UTC
Genuine Love
the people whose job is to understand the multiverse can't figure this world out rid·dle                      ˈridl/noun: riddle; plural noun:   riddles 1.                                 | a question or statement intentionally           phrased so as to require ingenuity     in ascertaining its answer or meaning,                typically presented as a game; a person, event,   or fact that is difficult   to understand or explain. "the riddle of her death" [puz·zle ˈpəzəl/verb: puzzle; 3rd person present: puzzles; past tense: puzzled; past participle: puzzled; gerund or present participle:                                              puzzling 1.                          cause (someone) to feel confused because              they cannot understand or make sense of something: "one remark he made puzzled me" synonyms: perplex, confuse, bewilder,        bemuse, baffle, mystify, confound;         faze, stump, beat, discombobulate "her decision puzzled me" perplexed, confused, bewildered,        bemused, baffled, mystified, confounded,                              nonplussed, at a loss, at sea;              flummoxed, stumped, fazed, clueless,              discombobulated "a puzzled look on her face" baffling, perplexing, bewildering, confusing, complicated, unclear, mysterious, enigmatic, ambiguous, obscure, abstruse, unfathomable, incomprehensible, impenetrable, cryptic "his explanation was rather puzzling" antonyms: clear think hard about something difficult                    to understand or explain; "she was still puzzling over this problem                      when she reached the office"      | [      ] think hard about, mull over, muse over, ponder, contemplate,                                      meditate on, consider, deliberate on, chew over,                     wonder about "she puzzled over the problem"   solve or understand something by thinking hard; synonyms:                       work out, understand,    comprehend, sort out, reason out, solve, make sense of,    make head(s) or tail(s) of, unravel, decipher; informal:                figure out "she tried to puzzle out what he meant" noun: puzzle; plural noun: puzzles 1. [                 ], [           ] (                 ); a game, toy, or problem designed     to test ingenuity or knowledge; short for jigsaw puzzle                    (see jigsaw) a person or thing that is difficult to understand or explain; an enigma: "the meaning of this poem will always be a paradox" synonyms: enigma, mystery, paradox,        conundrum, poser, riddle, problem, quandary;                      "the poem has always been a puzzle"   late 16th century (as a verb): of unknown origin: synonyms: puzzle, conundrum, brainteaser, problem,       unsolved problem, question, poser, enigma,                        quandary; informal:       stumper "an answer to the riddle"                    verb/archaic verb: riddle; 3rd person present: riddles; past tense: riddled; past participle: riddled;          gerund or present participle: riddling 1.             speak in or pose riddles. "he who knows not how to riddle" solve or explain (a riddle) to (someone). "riddle me this then" Origin Old English rǣdels, rǣdelse ‘opinion, conjecture, riddle’;   related to Dutch raadsel,    German Rätsel,      to read
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Jul 23, 2018
Jul 23, 2018 at 12:19 AM UTC
1. [Linear Z]
the people whose job is to understand the multiverse can't figure this world out rid·dle                      ˈridl/noun: riddle; plural noun:   riddles 1.                                 | a question or statement intentionally           phrased so as to require ingenuity     in ascertaining its answer or meaning,                typically presented as a game; a person, event,   or fact that is difficult   to understand or explain. "the riddle of her death" [puz·zle ˈpəzəl/verb: puzzle; 3rd person present: puzzles; past tense: puzzled; past participle: puzzled; gerund or present participle:                                              puzzling 1.                          cause (someone) to feel confused because              they cannot understand or make sense of something: "one remark he made puzzled me" synonyms: perplex, confuse, bewilder,        bemuse, baffle, mystify, confound;         faze, stump, beat, discombobulate "her decision puzzled me" perplexed, confused, bewildered,        bemused, baffled, mystified, confounded,                              nonplussed, at a loss, at sea;              flummoxed, stumped, fazed, clueless,              discombobulated "a puzzled look on her face" baffling, perplexing, bewildering, confusing, complicated, unclear, mysterious, enigmatic, ambiguous, obscure, abstruse, unfathomable, incomprehensible, impenetrable, cryptic "his explanation was rather puzzling" antonyms: clear think hard about something difficult                    to understand or explain; "she was still puzzling over this problem                      when she reached the office"      | [      ] think hard about, mull over, muse over, ponder, contemplate,                                      meditate on, consider, deliberate on, chew over,                     wonder about "she puzzled over the problem"   solve or understand something by thinking hard; synonyms:                       work out, understand,    comprehend, sort out, reason out, solve, make sense of,    make head(s) or tail(s) of, unravel, decipher; informal:                figure out "she tried to puzzle out what he meant" noun: puzzle; plural noun: puzzles 1. [                 ], [           ] (                 ); a game, toy, or problem designed     to test ingenuity or knowledge; short for jigsaw puzzle                    (see jigsaw) a person or thing that is difficult to understand or explain; an enigma: "the meaning of this poem will always be a paradox" synonyms: enigma, mystery, paradox,        conundrum, poser, riddle, problem, quandary;                      "the poem has always been a puzzle"   late 16th century (as a verb): of unknown origin: synonyms: puzzle, conundrum, brainteaser, problem,       unsolved problem, question, poser, enigma,                        quandary; informal:       stumper "an answer to the riddle"                    verb/archaic verb: riddle; 3rd person present: riddles; past tense: riddled; past participle: riddled;          gerund or present participle: riddling 1.             speak in or pose riddles. "he who knows not how to riddle" solve or explain (a riddle) to (someone). "riddle me this then" Origin Old English rǣdels, rǣdelse ‘opinion, conjecture, riddle’;   related to Dutch raadsel,    German Rätsel,      to read
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74
Be as a kaleidoscope and fractalize the mind. Embrace the dichroic glass, and break what limits bind. Smoother than a marble egg, yet tempered more than brass, bemuse yourself entirely with Millefiori glass. For in its mystic ampule birefringent voices dance, and visions come together should time befit the chance. No turn, nor shake, nor twist can break its hallowed grace. Acknowledge its diversity and revel in azoth space. Its symmetry is blithe at times, yet stunning through and through, and dashing through its mirrored hall, the light shall come to you. There is beauty in a beam of light. Caress its warmth and hope. How wondrous still that beauty grows with a simple kaleidoscope.
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Sep 25, 2014
Sep 25, 2014 at 1:44 AM UTC
Kaleidoscopic Minds
I often cry when writing my love poems *this secret, yet-not-so-secret, for the words become blurry birthed by the amniotic fluid of encasing tears, and when I write, wearing my emotions on my sleeves, for wiping my cheeks, nose leaking, because I write of sorrow supreme, that has no solution, pain repetition-dulled, yet, provoking each time for the words bubble up, of-course, it is love, in its thousands of reincarnations, coming to haunt, the lost, the unfound, thinking of my parents, my children, my lovers, come, gone and those who stay…* I bemuse myself thinking, each tear a lost poem, removed by sleeve or tissue, wiped away, lost, irretrievable forever… but these yellowed memories forever and ever refreshed by sea spray and wind, my face absorbs their unique nutrients, and love and pain rebirthed as if it was the happenstance of today, and the poem water tank just goes on and on being refilled…*
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Jun 25, 2023
Jun 25, 2023 at 11:14 AM UTC
I often cry when writing my love poems
Why do lovers chant - forever, don't they realize passions fade, that arteries so surely sever when gifts of ****** hearts are made and dullness claims the escapade and eyes begin the soft peruse... So much goes into getting laid. Why let romantic fluff abuse... For dogs, a sniff and stuff suffice. Black widows, yeah, we're all aware. And rabbits have it worked out nice; while porcupines must pork with care... Why make a song of an affair with final notes struck to bemuse, your genitalia set to snare... Why let romantic fluff abuse... Why let romantic fluff abuse... I'm not attacking marriage, no! So much is gained when two minds choose to plant that seed, so much can grow, so much to share and learn and know, that strengthens our society, like those basics of propriety that vilify variety. I'm not attacking marriage, no! No better view than from this web; so, let those dogs put on their show. A bunny's stamina must ebb. A rabbit's lusting thirst must ebb! Oh god, I'd risk a scrotal quill for a chance to climb different hill and dance until I've had my fill.
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Apr 11, 2016
Apr 11, 2016 at 12:17 AM UTC
Some ****** Satire
Awake! With morning darkness burst Cracking rich eye crusting sleep Ignore the strident bell of life Outward cold warm snuggle deep Ward against the nagging throng.. Heavy somnus dragging down Yet buried in the fogged dark mind Stirs nagging tendril hazy thought Waste not the day the moment bright Life much holds more than lazy sleep So lift mind's eye to misty height Great life romance spread out before Adventure waits rich quandary cries Mountain steep ascend short breath Summit reach proclaim rapport Plunging deep crash water roar Piton ***** stretch rope zing out Axe bury thud strain upward reach Snow underfoot sharp crunch give soft Peace vista birdsong rise aloft What journey waits? What dreams? What Fates? Agonise decision ........ wait! Heavy lids snap open gate Hah! Exclaim loudly joyous shout Burst upwards throw aside life's wrap Brush away veil laden doubt Cast aside all thought save one .... Awake the dawn of comrades share Banish prison walls of toil Embrace the spice rich life before Lost freedom of existence glory Live the life few dare to hold Climb cragged rock - Trek lands far flung Forge white streaked waters sheen Cross the desert dry and bright Brave wilderness dark verdant green Stand wind whipped face brave peak stand out We know what it’s all about So-Facilitate deep need within Live the life all seek few dare Complete existence venture far We pass this way but once - bemuse   Grasp this opportunity or lose
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Oct 16, 2010
Oct 16, 2010 at 1:01 PM UTC
Choice
Huffah! Rise up! Today a new day So glamorous So grand and gay That each passing of tree frogs shall Slither Spoil and spit My naked toes never touch ground Or do they? My flitting flee turns heads around Upside-down I bemuse continually Continue to follow through Weightless in flight In plight Black-tailed hawks soar shrivingly with might I gather and twirl and spill Arms afloat and fingers outstretched I greet the world Hello! Lovely lures linger in my spine Ascend to my neck only to Explode with confetti out of my ramby ringing ears Explode with laughter! Such yippity yap cannot view Such vague heights They don't catch me I spill thrice with slender legs ahooved We all come crashing down I give a smile Take a frown Such grace and beauty An epiphany to some An engagement to all Bliss meets ground in the fall It rains colors Tickling tiny eyelashes Clickety-click I blink! Oh woe! How my soreness traps all reds! Shades of yellow Shades of gold orange brown Teet and totter Only to divide and conquer My fellow Autumn leaves as Autumn comes For I make no rule away Grass grasps and clings Leaves no trace but in my hair How it curls and shines with flings! I lick the sweetness of blue Gumdrops begone I beg of you Clamber to my lips I kiss the sweetness in pips Of more than two
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Jun 27, 2010
Jun 27, 2010 at 7:21 PM UTC
Blissful Ramble
I sigh in measured time,   bemuse myself with rhyme. Of pains I make a parlor play;   with words I while an hour away. Leave me to my cliches.   They comfort me these days. To shocking shards and blocks of rage,   I yield the balance of my page.
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Nov 24, 2010
Nov 24, 2010 at 7:42 PM UTC
I yield the balance of my page
my brain and my mind bemuse my soul of its hole make me look and it took every chance of significance do I ask or do I mask to decide the inside? flavor or fervor compare or contrast order or ardor the first or the last wrong or strong right or tight completed or depleted the night or the light listen or christen painting or fainting sarcasm or ****** feeling or failing hang or bang sore or soar blade or aid less or more to slice or to rise to pry or to fly to live or to leave to die or to try
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Sep 20, 2018
Sep 20, 2018 at 2:41 AM UTC
decide the inside
What, indeed, is an enigma? Shrouded in mystery, to bemuse ya! A mystery wrapped in enigma, A paradox with no stigma, Expand into our phenomena, A mystery wrapped in enigma........
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Jan 30, 2017
Jan 30, 2017 at 2:05 PM UTC
MYSTERY IN ENIGMA.
To: The fierce hollow spinal cord. From: Your screaming fractured bones. Dear unkempt boy, You’ve thrown your back out of place; arms extended and neck inclined. It seemed so innocent to me, but you cracked and crossed your fingers in precise time. The bones fold under you, and still I carry your dwindling body back. The accident you knew all so well collapsed when you gathered each vertebrae in pride. Collect and reveal your ignorant ways. Refuse. Excuse. Bemuse. I am finally jaded. Just, Your twisting structure.
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Dec 29, 2010
Dec 29, 2010 at 8:11 AM UTC
Old letters
He wonders in an ascending thunder. He roams in an aspiring trail, which excites without fail. He please's like a contagious disease. Do you love me, do you hate me? The little boy used to ask. A smile in his eyes, used to confuse and bemuse. Some it would anger, and to some, it would intrigue. But, he knew, it was only a smile. Mischief was his game, adventure his name. Love in his heart, to the end from the start. Till death to him part.
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Jan 15, 2015
Jan 15, 2015 at 6:49 AM UTC
Boy at heart
And they all will live on, beyond always, beyond forever afters; the ones who dared bemuse a poet.
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Jun 16, 2019
Jun 16, 2019 at 5:33 AM UTC
Immortals
"The Queen's upside down" you bemuse I smirk at at eye-less face hung up, lips to the sky, hung from a picture frame on your bedroom wall Why do they all have multicoloured hair? I don't. Mine's red. Fiery, jealous, and fairly insecure. Friday morning blues How is it possible to feel sad on the happiest day of the week? Saturday morning is where I want to be though grimey and exhausted in your bed. I sit outside because the empty skies make me closer to you
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Apr 23, 2013
Apr 23, 2013 at 9:50 PM UTC
ADD
it took me so long to find out what is wrong is it me or these sad songs that keeps me from being strong and i realize it's always been because of you— you're still the missing piece i need all along
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Jan 29, 2017
Jan 29, 2017 at 10:11 AM UTC
bemuse
they call you sunshine — your smile fascinates the clouds, your eyes bemuse the skies, your soul radiates joy. they call you sol — some are afraid of your scathing warmth but you’re still a timeless beauty every single time you fall.
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Jul 23, 2020
Jul 23, 2020 at 9:14 AM UTC
sol
Moonlight shines through the cracks of my heart, Casting a smokescreen onto you, Pluto. A mirage of being broken has transformed into my freedom...
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Apr 28, 2013
Apr 28, 2013 at 4:29 PM UTC
bemuse: 1
The beast has returned With a taste for blood like no other My soul has succumbed to the devils liquor And it tastes good No inhibitions left for the trail behind As my voice fans the fire of a fool and his gold The weak shall not worry and the strong bemuse at my Sadness and sorrow With my head bowed I walk away Broken yet again from the nectars wish In my search for the freedom these chains do desire Yet still I thirst Yet still I want I cannot hide from these wishes that crave my desire for freedom Oh freedom Sweet sweet freedom How I crave thee Leave me alone so I may live my life in a peace like all others The beast has returned
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Oct 27, 2013
Oct 27, 2013 at 12:29 AM UTC
The Beast
and sometimes magic, a scene from the book of genesis, chapter verse whatever, buying whiskey and beer in a supermarket, the cashier, Tara, knows me, she's my gym coach, she tut tut struts and tuts when i buy beer telling me to keep the beer off - i told you alcoholics are mobile, we go sightseeing most of the time, on a double decker bus we bemuse and lipread: and here's the Elizabeth tower (formerly known as Benjamin "big **** Disraeli - the English by the French after the 100 year war: if they're not retards, they're perverts) - **** that shit's brushed off on me! am i a ********** if i hold dear a British passport? phew! no? yes? huh?! i must be a Mr. Khan in waiting... no, but seriously, a scene in the cave of an iceman, 5 lasses buying wine lonely, me my beer my whiskey, i get a lemon added / **** i told you it was a lime not a lemon on the conveyor belt - i get a lime, lucky Adam got an apple and one asking, i'm doing double-up fevers waiting for Saturday night with Paris, Hilda, Venus and Hera.. Adam gets an apple from smooch slick Eva naked and i get a ******* lime on a conveyor-belt in a supermarket while buying whiskey... Jonah! call the whale! i'm sure we'll both be calling it Noah's ark when tomorrow comes; **** you not, we'll be boarding dry-land at Arsuk - **** send a message to Columbus - we discovered North America via Greenland like you discovered the same via the Caribbean Islands, ha ha! call it dynamo of Erik versus Kristopheren; i just got a lime on a conveyor belt in a supermarket, Adam was handed an apple in Eden - i guess that's worth a 50 50 chance of coincidence with my sex-starved libido and the English "roses": not that i'm guarantying anything good either, it's not like i'm a vacuum cleaner based guarantee - but **** me, the ****** **** wrinkles and all, bamboozle clad the salutary march for applause - and the fainting bearskin trumpet-brigadier at the ro- -yal parade onto Buckingham Ponce; n'ah n'ah n'ah n'ah n'ah.
0
Jun 24, 2016
Jun 24, 2016 at 6:44 PM UTC
lemon
and sometimes magic, a scene from the book of genesis, chapter verse whatever, buying whiskey and beer in a supermarket, the cashier, Tara, knows me, she's my gym coach, she tut tut struts and tuts when i buy beer telling me to keep the beer off - i told you alcoholics are mobile, we go sightseeing most of the time, on a double decker bus we bemuse and lipread: and here's the Elizabeth tower (formerly known as Benjamin "big **** Disraeli - the English by the French after the 100 year war: if they're not retards, they're perverts) - **** that shit's brushed off on me! am i a ********** if i hold dear a British passport? phew! no? yes? huh?! i must be a Mr. Khan in waiting... no, but seriously, a scene in the cave of an iceman, 5 lasses buying wine lonely, me my beer my whiskey, i get a lemon added / **** i told you it was a lime not a lemon on the conveyor belt - i get a lime, lucky Adam got an apple and one asking, i'm doing double-up fevers waiting for Saturday night with Paris, Hilda, Venus and Hera.. Adam gets an apple from smooch slick Eva naked and i get a ******* lime on a conveyor-belt in a supermarket while buying whiskey... Jonah! call the whale! i'm sure we'll both be calling it Noah's ark when tomorrow comes; **** you not, we'll be boarding dry-land at Arsuk - **** send a message to Columbus - we discovered North America via Greenland like you discovered the same via the Caribbean Islands, ha ha! call it dynamo of Erik versus Kristopheren; i just got a lime on a conveyor belt in a supermarket, Adam was handed an apple in Eden - i guess that's worth a 50 50 chance of coincidence with my sex-starved libido and the English "roses": not that i'm guarantying anything good either, it's not like i'm a vacuum cleaner based guarantee - but **** me, the ****** **** wrinkles and all, bamboozle clad the salutary march for applause - and the fainting bearskin trumpet-brigadier at the ro- -yal parade onto Buckingham Ponce; n'ah n'ah n'ah n'ah n'ah.
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46
*it would be easiest to switch the lights off and bemuse whether there's a light-bulb in the room.* but of course psychoanalysis originated in the upper tiers of society, where people found dreams unappealing unless interpreted by third party associates of psychiatry and put into nice and neat boxes of theory... of such people we know as perhaps neither butchers or surgeons, who's only obstructions in life were but dreams, and dreams in themselves also obstructive because of lack of coherency and soluble meaning, perhaps even not sexually potent enough; only now the backlash of digging into the unconscious greedily like dwarfs mining for precious jewels, to have merely woken a flip side of all that theorising that came from the 19th century, you hear so much of the balrog that slay durin vi, this bane of durin: oh it walks among us, it does indeed - with a cartesian duality whip of medicinal splinters etched into an almost dark ages account of knowledge: to have us treat mentality and physicality of a negation of ease as equally paired to be chiral - indeed politicians speak of mental health and physical ailments as distinct - but gentler the thought pressing down on the cranium than an elephant in stilettos likewise - but why so? for all this previous theorising ambitions in a safe environment of natural hallucinogenic encounters of sleep - safe there the egoistic scalpel of this branch of medicine of a straitjacket - safe there indeed, and perhaps even more with a placebo effect acceptable; but by god! this scalpel wants to censor thinking, even thought that extend into our ontological bereavement of being but mortal - even if suicide is a problem, the more methodological such thinking becomes the more ineffective it becomes, and for some strange reason, thoughts of suicide (when trained) have this strange way of prolonging mortality, the carpe diem of reasoning, after all, all things possess the concern for two things that interchange, and in that interchange the + can become a -, or as i say... take to committing yourself to a gruesome end... hara-kiri (seppuku), and you won't.
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Jan 11, 2016
Jan 11, 2016 at 9:02 AM UTC
the misty mountain dirge
*it would be easiest to switch the lights off and bemuse whether there's a light-bulb in the room.* but of course psychoanalysis originated in the upper tiers of society, where people found dreams unappealing unless interpreted by third party associates of psychiatry and put into nice and neat boxes of theory... of such people we know as perhaps neither butchers or surgeons, who's only obstructions in life were but dreams, and dreams in themselves also obstructive because of lack of coherency and soluble meaning, perhaps even not sexually potent enough; only now the backlash of digging into the unconscious greedily like dwarfs mining for precious jewels, to have merely woken a flip side of all that theorising that came from the 19th century, you hear so much of the balrog that slay durin vi, this bane of durin: oh it walks among us, it does indeed - with a cartesian duality whip of medicinal splinters etched into an almost dark ages account of knowledge: to have us treat mentality and physicality of a negation of ease as equally paired to be chiral - indeed politicians speak of mental health and physical ailments as distinct - but gentler the thought pressing down on the cranium than an elephant in stilettos likewise - but why so? for all this previous theorising ambitions in a safe environment of natural hallucinogenic encounters of sleep - safe there the egoistic scalpel of this branch of medicine of a straitjacket - safe there indeed, and perhaps even more with a placebo effect acceptable; but by god! this scalpel wants to censor thinking, even thought that extend into our ontological bereavement of being but mortal - even if suicide is a problem, the more methodological such thinking becomes the more ineffective it becomes, and for some strange reason, thoughts of suicide (when trained) have this strange way of prolonging mortality, the carpe diem of reasoning, after all, all things possess the concern for two things that interchange, and in that interchange the + can become a -, or as i say... take to committing yourself to a gruesome end... hara-kiri (seppuku), and you won't.
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49
High up, far away, a hint of what could be, You are sought – Come fly away with me. The gloom of passion, I am smitten. I seek light in the darkest of places. The world is flat, as is my thoughts of it. I bemuse even myself sometimes. My growth, not always positive in its negative aspects. Life of the sequestered – that shall surely not be me.
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Dec 2, 2011
Dec 2, 2011 at 7:08 AM UTC
The seasons are nigh upon us now
Sometimes, I bemuse how long it takes myself to exhale your name out in cigarette smoke. Your name is like a secret that I will not force through my vocal cords. I will not say it any other time. Merely, for the fact that your name is just as toxic as chemicals that I cradle in my lungs.   I silently let go of your name, and a simple little memory of you each time I let the smoke escape from my chest, and over my lips as I breathe out. Sometimes, I do not know if it is the smoke or the hot air that I let out, to be me letting go of your name. For, I fear that the longer it takes me to release the smoke, is of how much I really miss saying your name out loud. I am confused on whether it is the length me slowly letting go of your name, or if it is just the warm carbon dioxide of my breath.
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Jan 16, 2014
Jan 16, 2014 at 11:19 PM UTC
Smoke.
At 3 am I sit on my couch Placing my head between my knees and slouch, Waiting for my phone to reach 100 But thousands of memories are reverting in my head. I think, ponder and contemplate Couldn't get any answers straight. All the bemuse have covered me up, So full that I feel now it's enough. I asked myself a simple question Am i doing something wrong? My brain says you are very right But my heart says you're on the wrong side. I move forward to the window And waiting for the sun to show. But thoughts do not leave me alone Made me feel like I'm just a drone Doing nothing but just mating is not for me, I'm to collect nectar even while I'm in a spree. Then I woke up from everything, I have confused myself in just a blink. All I think about is past and future but not the present I stop and say I'll live and cherish every moment. By J Mathew
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Jun 22, 2020
Jun 22, 2020 at 9:23 AM UTC
Memories
you continue to confuse & bemuse me god little girl tease & please me hair raven black pouring over me when I lay beneath you rocking swelling rising rebelling your hand holds my eyes closed & you silently whisper the secrets etched into your bones skeletal hyroglyphics you let me borrow your skin feel the muscles under read the scared scrolls & reveal transmitter pathways behind soul windows you give me every piece of you & to me you're just a piece to be used.
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Sep 8, 2013
Sep 8, 2013 at 2:45 PM UTC
Zero
You look upon the world As a ship with no captain Seeking to guide humanity Through the storms Oh my darling may I  sit against your heart So its vibrations can rock my limbs until the dawn breaks You bemuse me As a man full of life Laden with curiosities Yet unhappy within this world Leave those my darling Allow the stars to fall for you Let them stun you as they strike your skin And inspire passion from the lights in your veins May you never be numb As your travels will bring warmth To the places within you That will never see any light May your soul blaze through So you can feel alive May you never feel secure As I push you off from the shore
0
Oct 2, 2013
Oct 2, 2013 at 4:50 PM UTC
To Martyrs