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"bended" poems
Anxious Dull, a boy is he names he would not plea eyes like baby blue- lips a crimson hue Feelings like me and you Reclusive Outsiders he'd not choose In his mansions he bore luring himself- with enchanting lore's drifting away, loosing woes A Xenos Traveling in his hallways unknown, ominous a wretched life he portrays even in his heart, he'd say- "Loneliness, such a Cliché" Forsaken Befriended, unseen though he's not a devil -for I believe tortured, battered on thee delude by his mistress' skim He Left portals out from misery gone himself eagerly then comes back, with such -A Victory for now, a statured man is he Knights & Kings upon bended knees and everything he please from a man to a boy -in a dream A Castle, now he redeems
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Jul 14, 2017
Jul 14, 2017 at 7:48 PM UTC
◦ A Boy and His Castle
Hey there sunshine ray, Time to wake up and come out & play Break thru the tiny cracks of a shattered old window & illuminate where all darkness resides Brush away all the gray, and the pain of yesterday Warm the rosy cheeks of the cold sleepy faces Drop like raindrops, not leaving a single place untouched. Hey there sparkle glow Shine wide and bright & remind those, eyes filled with tears of loneliness of hope. Transform the plain morning into golden kissed flames Fill the bubblegum blue sky with tiny bended rays of sunlight Sunshine, sunlight, pierce the veil & Drown away the worries of the  night Fill the day with your crystal clear lemonish’cream’vanilla’icing. Skip thru the puddles and tickle the sides of those who forget they could laugh over the small little things. Hey there sunshine ray, let your droplets of orange orange crimson sparks…… Spark and radiate and **** throughout the air of tiny million atoms filling the world with sunkissed stars, Rain and flood all corners of the earth Paint the flying dust specs swirling in the wind and grains of sand Dazzle the view of the silent watching patient ones Turn the leaves from green to emerald and flowers to rainbow dancing peakcocks swaying in the breeze Hush the world under a spell with your droplets of sunshine.
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Mar 24, 2014
Mar 24, 2014 at 1:21 AM UTC
Droplets of Sunshine :)
Life often speaks in rhythm & blues whispering trumpets to bended ears, while reminding us that smiles belong only in photographs; and tears behind the curtain of an indifferent face We walk fine lines, between tragedy and genius, lines so rarely straight we seek balance in mediocrity and solitude in unfinished lifes We become incomplete puzzles forcing squares into circular places by tearing away pieces of the whole and conforming to the empty spaces some things were never meant to be changed We place people into boxes, neatly organizing them by the labels we give their cracks and flaws seldom ever realizing that broken has a beauty all it's own, and... some things were never meant be mended
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Jul 13, 2014
Jul 13, 2014 at 10:02 PM UTC
Life, Lines, and Labels
Centered around your neck, the prettiness of the stainless steel shines locked in to place, your Daddy loves you more this day. On bended knees, you wait, as I approach with it in my hand, tilt your head back as I place it around, and snap the lock down. Let it dangle, feel the weight, feel the love, the symbolism of you and I, is more then a piece of metal, it is pure love I say. Little One, you are the first, truly are to be offered this gift, No one before you, no not even her, your loved removed a frown. Ask yourself, are you worthy to be my submissive? Worthy to be my baby girl? Worthy to love me forever? Worthy to be mine. Remember this, remember it clearly, the answer to those questions is simple, the answer is yes, forever you will be. Only you will forever be my property, the stainless around your neck is the significance of this, missing with no shine. Never, forget my love, forget that I own you, please show the world in our own little way, that you are owned, not free.
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Jun 1, 2016
Jun 1, 2016 at 10:36 AM UTC
Collared
I said a prayer for you today Down on bended knee For I know that He can heal your pain And help your heart to see. I didn't pray for money or fame I hope you'll understand I prayed for reassurance And guidance from His hands. I asked that he surround you With all His mighty love and care To bless you with peaceful endurance Let you know that He's always there. I asked that He show you courage To fight the battles that lie ahead Give you wisdom to see the good in life Not to see all the bad things instead. If by chance you're wondering Why I prayed so much for you Because I know within your broken heart It's something you forgot to do.
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Jul 11, 2010
Jul 11, 2010 at 11:13 AM UTC
I Said A Prayer For You Today
It must be buried under the skin, what makes your body tremble. What makes your taste consistent, just here for me to use. You came on bended broken knees, spread on top of a rustled bed. You left with empty breaths, blushing sweat, and blends of regret. Your smile speaks so well of you, but your dignity hides it under covers. With a twinkle in your eye, and a flicker of your smile. Gave me battered pleas, just to have you pleased. Crude interpretation of sounds and breaths, Legs loose with a rug dress. Working record rhythms of nervous lips, heavy syllables swaying off those hips. Your hands and wrists like chords, pressed around my skull and neck, mangling hair and skin with defect. And that? That is the steadfast scar I have, from loving you. Although love doesn't pass through here anymore.
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May 20, 2011
May 20, 2011 at 8:34 PM UTC
Steadfast Scar
In a war of arrows Her heart was found. Flaccid were the stem attached to the pointed tips. Soaring the height of love. Crashing down in a turbulent ****** Flung from tight strings, bended wood. The ground lay covered in the aftermath of thrill seeking Underneath the shadow. A shaman hung his head in such complex circumstances An addiction to abuse
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Feb 12, 2017
Feb 12, 2017 at 10:35 PM UTC
War Of Arrows
Her skin looks pale, White shedding brown, like a golden brown velvet strewn across a skeleton made from Cleopatra’s frame. There is nothing to it, her sway is flawless in her stilettos, O’ God those stilettos. She pave the roads with blossoms of Primrose and Calla Lilies, as the tip of her heels stab the earth. Her body melts cotton candies in winter, her curve bakes pastries in snowy mountains, It was an unbelievable sight, like a sunrise, she climbs the edges of the highest of peaks, like the wind, she enters a heart by the creaks; like a creep. Perhaps nothing shall stop her, Her footsteps continue to pierce the soil, making a sound close to the cracking of my knuckles. She made people snivel and weep when she enters the room with her slender black dress. She makes heads turn almost to their full circle, it would be death to steal a peek, or glance, a peep. She is the sun on earth: hot and highly radiated but too tempting to be left alone. She is like the still waters: calm, clean and serene but too quiet to know the depth; and still willingly jump in. It is like believing again. She is like believing again. She is tiny as is her name, It shall rhyme as the bell shines, Her hair, her coiled twisted hair, is much like herself: curled, twisted bended. Yet she is, perhaps, the twist in life, the curl of wind on her bosoms, or the bend of spines when eyes turn to gaze at her splendor. It is uncertain what she is, but I know, vaguely. She, like a Zinnia, shall be the decoration of this planet. She shall be, though exaggerated, the reason for our existence. She, corrupted and dangerous, shall reclaim her spot in divinity and shall forever more be my source of inspiration. Like a stream of clear water, gushing down the torrent ovately, ornately, creatively, purposefully… She shall see herself, breathe herself and know that only she is the one she could deliberately fall… …or fail. The black sand shall be her dress, the grey rocks shall be her stilettos, that clear water be her conscience as she takes on the world. With her cursive eye shadows she will see the funny side of life; she will see it thoroughly. She, regardless, will persist and resist the failure of herself, with the moist creek on her seductive lips. She is seduction. She is temptation.
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Mar 21, 2013
Mar 21, 2013 at 12:13 AM UTC
cleopatra
Her skin looks pale, White shedding brown, like a golden brown velvet strewn across a skeleton made from Cleopatra’s frame. There is nothing to it, her sway is flawless in her stilettos, O’ God those stilettos. She pave the roads with blossoms of Primrose and Calla Lilies, as the tip of her heels stab the earth. Her body melts cotton candies in winter, her curve bakes pastries in snowy mountains, It was an unbelievable sight, like a sunrise, she climbs the edges of the highest of peaks, like the wind, she enters a heart by the creaks; like a creep. Perhaps nothing shall stop her, Her footsteps continue to pierce the soil, making a sound close to the cracking of my knuckles. She made people snivel and weep when she enters the room with her slender black dress. She makes heads turn almost to their full circle, it would be death to steal a peek, or glance, a peep. She is the sun on earth: hot and highly radiated but too tempting to be left alone. She is like the still waters: calm, clean and serene but too quiet to know the depth; and still willingly jump in. It is like believing again. She is like believing again. She is tiny as is her name, It shall rhyme as the bell shines, Her hair, her coiled twisted hair, is much like herself: curled, twisted bended. Yet she is, perhaps, the twist in life, the curl of wind on her bosoms, or the bend of spines when eyes turn to gaze at her splendor. It is uncertain what she is, but I know, vaguely. She, like a Zinnia, shall be the decoration of this planet. She shall be, though exaggerated, the reason for our existence. She, corrupted and dangerous, shall reclaim her spot in divinity and shall forever more be my source of inspiration. Like a stream of clear water, gushing down the torrent ovately, ornately, creatively, purposefully… She shall see herself, breathe herself and know that only she is the one she could deliberately fall… …or fail. The black sand shall be her dress, the grey rocks shall be her stilettos, that clear water be her conscience as she takes on the world. With her cursive eye shadows she will see the funny side of life; she will see it thoroughly. She, regardless, will persist and resist the failure of herself, with the moist creek on her seductive lips. She is seduction. She is temptation.
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85
Mirror, mirror on the wall. Who'll catch me when I fall? Mirror, mirror I knew this man, I hear his voice and I feel like **** Mirror, mirror everytime he laughs I just can't explain how he give me crafts. Mirror, mirror whenever he speaks I feel like I'm on clouds at its peak. Mirror, mirror he gives me butterflies He keeps me happy and never let me cries. Mirror, mirror he send me shivers Its overflowing just like other rivers. Mirror, mirror this is something new I hope this won't fade and forever please be true. Mirror, mirror he said he loves me He'll never hurt me he guarantee. Mirror, mirror he said I'm all his With those three words I feel bliss. Mirror, mirror on his bended knee He hold my heart and there's no escapee. Mirror, mirror forever is for fantasy So that means lifetime is for reality. Mirror, mirror my heart beats, If this ain't forever please delete. Mirror, mirror remove my doubt and my fear With this man that's gentle and truly sincere. Mirror, mirror give me my happily ever after Let me write my own love story and be the master.
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Oct 17, 2014
Oct 17, 2014 at 10:09 AM UTC
Mirror, Mirror
~ *Inundate your love for this sacred village, on bended knee, facing the freshet, supplicated hands pressed together, one of grace, one of charity, lips of sweet euphony, whispering into the morning sun, a language deep and pounding inside your heart's timpani, abiding like unsheltered waters that nourish the vine* ~
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Sep 8, 2021
Sep 8, 2021 at 10:38 AM UTC
Chapel Holly
This greeting comes Have a nice day Easier said than done Haven't had one in a while Can name the reasons why The list as long as the Nile What to do or what not to do The question I'm left to ponder solo Feels familiar, always has, oh no! What shall I do? Rescue me! Come to me on bended knee It won't happen, we're not dating I'd sabbatoge it if you did I need pure raw emotions that you keep well hid The sexes unstable in this world today What connotations does it carry When you say, "have a nice day" February 10, 2014
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Feb 10, 2014
Feb 10, 2014 at 10:00 AM UTC
Have a nice day...
You're still in here, inside these walls through open doors and vacant halls I hear you gently clear your throat and rustle with your overcoat I hear you say in deep distress I have some things I must confess I Loved You Then I love you still I love you now, I always will You have my heart, my heart that's true a love I thought I really knew... But love is just not quite that clear It's juxtaposed with you my dear I'd rather stay but I must go for reasons that I do not know I hope your heart can find a place to close your eyes and see my face Remember what it meant to me, I hope my love can set you free for I am your eternity, and with you I will always be and I will never really say Goodbye my sweet So we must both lie down to rest, No need for you to get undressed So cover up and go to sleep, & dry those eyes from tears you weep Where I am going I must go alone, this is your place this is your home, you must stay. One day I know we'll meet again, In time I know your heart will mend Through Heavens gate I'll wait for thee With open arms on bended knee Where Spirits run In fields of wheat To find their souls last one retreat So I'll instead just say farewell,   & hope in this you will not dwell You know that I just cannot stay, the sun will shine again today, So smile at the sky above   & know that you are truly loved, We are timeless So you will know, you will never really be alone. All Rights Reserved © 2016 - May 29 Cherie Nolan
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May 29, 2016
May 29, 2016 at 11:50 AM UTC
"You have my heart"
Girls who go on bended knee And show the world their ***** Never ask for love or care Or one to call them honey If they choose to put a price On showing men their body With empty hearts and purses full It seems kind of funny If only they could love themselves Half as much as money
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Aug 12, 2014
Aug 12, 2014 at 1:13 PM UTC
Money Love
Magdalene watched Mary bend down to put on the LP. The Beatles. They’d saved up and bought it together. She took in Mary’s stockinged thigh showing through the slit in the side of the school skirt. Mary placed the LP carefully onto the turntable, with her finger put the needle arm down onto the vinyl. The music started up, Mary stood up and sat next to Magdalene on the single bed. Magdalene sensed her there, her thigh next to hers, her warmth, their knees almost touching. What did your Ma say when you said you bought the Beatles? Magdalene asked. She said nowt, Mary replied, but Da said it was a load of ***** and where did I get the money from to buy it? John Lennon's voice sang over the twanging guitars. Magdalene said, did you tell him we bought it together? Mary nodded. Her hands pushed between her thighs, her young face lit up by the room's light. Don't you think Paul's a dish? Mary asked. Magdalene shrugged her shoulders, studied Mary’s knee where a spot of flesh showed through a hole in the black school stockings. She wanted to move closer, kiss the cheek, place her lips on the skin. She breathed in the borrowed scent that Mary wore. Said she'd liberated it from her Ma's room. Mary talked of the boy they'd met in the woods above the school. Tried it on so he did, she said, over the guitars and Lennon's loud voice. Magdalene wished she could put her hands where the boy had tried. I put him straight, Mary said, kneed him where his fatherhood might flow. Mary moved up and down on the bed in response to the music. The bedsprings complained. Magdalene sensed the movement, took in Mary’s behind going up and down on the bed cover. Glory be. She wanted to kiss. Needed the hand to touch Mary’s, the skin to join up with hers. Downstairs a voice bellowed to keep the ****** noise down. Mary sighed and bent down to turn the **** the thigh revealed in the skirt's slit, the spot of flesh through the hole in the bended knee. Magdalene captured the image. Hid it in her memory bank for later, for bedtime, for the cosy pretend hold, maybe more if in her dream she was lucky and bold.
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Nov 17, 2012
Nov 17, 2012 at 4:31 AM UTC
MAGDALENE AND THE BEATLES'S FIRST LP.
Magdalene watched Mary bend down to put on the LP. The Beatles. They’d saved up and bought it together. She took in Mary’s stockinged thigh showing through the slit in the side of the school skirt. Mary placed the LP carefully onto the turntable, with her finger put the needle arm down onto the vinyl. The music started up, Mary stood up and sat next to Magdalene on the single bed. Magdalene sensed her there, her thigh next to hers, her warmth, their knees almost touching. What did your Ma say when you said you bought the Beatles? Magdalene asked. She said nowt, Mary replied, but Da said it was a load of ***** and where did I get the money from to buy it? John Lennon's voice sang over the twanging guitars. Magdalene said, did you tell him we bought it together? Mary nodded. Her hands pushed between her thighs, her young face lit up by the room's light. Don't you think Paul's a dish? Mary asked. Magdalene shrugged her shoulders, studied Mary’s knee where a spot of flesh showed through a hole in the black school stockings. She wanted to move closer, kiss the cheek, place her lips on the skin. She breathed in the borrowed scent that Mary wore. Said she'd liberated it from her Ma's room. Mary talked of the boy they'd met in the woods above the school. Tried it on so he did, she said, over the guitars and Lennon's loud voice. Magdalene wished she could put her hands where the boy had tried. I put him straight, Mary said, kneed him where his fatherhood might flow. Mary moved up and down on the bed in response to the music. The bedsprings complained. Magdalene sensed the movement, took in Mary’s behind going up and down on the bed cover. Glory be. She wanted to kiss. Needed the hand to touch Mary’s, the skin to join up with hers. Downstairs a voice bellowed to keep the ****** noise down. Mary sighed and bent down to turn the **** the thigh revealed in the skirt's slit, the spot of flesh through the hole in the bended knee. Magdalene captured the image. Hid it in her memory bank for later, for bedtime, for the cosy pretend hold, maybe more if in her dream she was lucky and bold.
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73
(On Moonlit Nights) While others are busy jingle bell-ing and Christmas tree-gazing, i have wrapped myself, for i am going back... remembering anew how it is to walk under a star-laden Christmas sky these tree-shrouded paths leading to the sea... alone and unafraid, somehow, still hoping, to feel your hand, holding mine... Reliving once again magical moments with thee, silhouettes...of you and me. This Christmas night...i walk these paved shrouded paths. i am desperately awaiting your presence, for your body to be next to mine... the blowing wind roars, and ends as a soft sea breeze... though it still stirs, i feel a warm breath near my face... my heart leaps.....then settles down for, there's no one there when i turn to look... a dream, you have become. i see just a tall, bended shadow, reaching down to cover my shoulders on this cold, cold night, to caress my head, cloaking me, shielding me. this tree, this silhouette, will once again shelter me on this, another moonlit night, lonely and wasted, for I am without thee. (October 13, 2013---6:09 AM) Sally Copyright 2013 Rosalia Rosario A. Bayann
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Dec 19, 2014
Dec 19, 2014 at 7:15 PM UTC
SILHOUETTES
we met one night hearts of fire kisses sweet passions dire out came rope and string we found white gauze wrapping honey ***** bound kisses hot mouths like butter i tied her hard her eyes did flutter ankles to arms head to feet she started to sweat her joints did meet stressed and pink i love her so she looked up and started to glow oh you mean man she said you brute hurt me baby am i not cute i slapped her hard on the face and the *** bit her feet she quaked and gasped i used her mouth oh she ****** and ****** and licked with lust and then got ****** i love her *** it was really fun we loved and cumed i am her sun kisses torrid i ate her like pie for her love i would gladly die i tied her and bended she arched and she folded crushed her to pieces and then re-moulded she cried and begged oh i adore and hollered and squealed give me some more all in a swirl eyes crossed and diffused bent out of shape and begged to be used love turned to passion and passion to madness i did terrible things she kissed me with gladness we consumed each other let out all that we feel couldn't help our selves and thats how we heal out came rope and string we found white gauze wrapping honey ***** bound
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Aug 9, 2016
Aug 9, 2016 at 9:20 AM UTC
Honey ***** Bound
Well I'm like a weird book, With pages unnumberd And stories not told. With a cover that's bended and not carefully folded.
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Dec 15, 2018
Dec 15, 2018 at 4:35 PM UTC
Weird book
I cannot help but glare into the vastness of the Sea How it continuously keeps beckoning me As the waves persist, crashing on bended knee I ponder at all the possibilities that there can be As each wave crests, one after the other Making a path, no drop shall trudge back But the wave moves forward, in a great pother What a chaotic fate must await, as it crests past the horizon, black And there are countless waves, all marching, stride for stride Gliding through each other, as they change one another’s course of tide There are endless possibilities, within my endless stare For the whole sea is in front of me The endless possibilities are all within my care
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Mar 18, 2017
Mar 18, 2017 at 10:24 AM UTC
The Vastness of the Sea
swimming in a dropout ocean drowning in disease scented waters sleeping in discussing bended knees swelling ear drums underwhelmed living in a giving tree standing under shadowed rainfall continuously breaking keys taking time run out tonight climbing my own refugee single spirited willow jars sorting through debris
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Sep 23, 2012
Sep 23, 2012 at 8:00 PM UTC
dropout ocean
while you were singing in the churchyard i was sleeping in the ***** barn beside a withered picture of an astronaut and a long beard filled with street secrets while you were burning up in sainthood i was screaming into a melancholy leaf wearing sweat on my miserable ***** and a liar's grin on my face while you were murdering your wife i was milking this dream for all the light and i thanked god on bended knee saying you're a turtle dove in an icebox while you martyred yourself into the ocean i carried you with me on my road to freedom like an aligator stomped hard by a mockingbird or a mermaid shot full of antibirth tablets
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Feb 19, 2012
Feb 19, 2012 at 10:51 PM UTC
alligator stomped hard by a mockingbird
Swaying her hips, she asks him to dance. It is a masquerade ball, and she's taking her chance. From afar she had loved him, too timid to even try. But now she is taking, tonight it's do or die. *Licking my lips, I wonder if he can see, How badly I want a kiss? Can he sense my need? My brazen desire To just be pleased, One night of lust, Infatuation and* greed He pulled her close, lips by her ear. "Come away with me, love me my dear." Taking her hand he left, through the crowd and up the street. Stopping only once, To kiss her oh so sweet. *My God, I wanna rip him apart right here I'm so wet, I'm soaked through I wanna lick, I wanna taste I'll do whatever he wants to I desire the feel of skin on skin Please, just let us* begin! Through the park they did run, In a gentle summer rain. Pushing her against a tree, her pleasure was his aim. Under the dress his hand did go, While he bite at her lips. She moaned into the night, and rocked her curvy hips. *I want him inside me, I can't wait till we get home, No, just do me against this tree, I'll pleasure him, if he just pleasures me I'm writhing, I'm wet I want his tongue probing my mouth, His palms splayed on my back Then moving so much farther* south He turns her around, she now faces the tree. Throwing up the dress, He goes on bended knee. ******* are ripped, as his silken tongue seeks. Her moans get louder, as her legs get weak. *Oh, heavenly bliss I've never felt anything sweeter The feel of his talented lips Just keep taking me higher Although this is completely satisfying The only thing I want is his entire length* inside me She rocked her hips, begging for more. As upon his tongue, her essence did pour. He let himself free, Sliding it across her **** Then slipped slowly inside, once he was slippery slick. *Oh My, just what I was waiting for I failed to conceal the moan I let slip He pushed even deeper inside me And I couldn't help but bite my lip With every inch I felt it farther in my core I let out a scream, begging for* MORE
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Dec 7, 2014
Dec 7, 2014 at 3:50 PM UTC
Finally Mine **** Sunday) ~~~ Collaboration with Natasha M L
Swaying her hips, she asks him to dance. It is a masquerade ball, and she's taking her chance. From afar she had loved him, too timid to even try. But now she is taking, tonight it's do or die. *Licking my lips, I wonder if he can see, How badly I want a kiss? Can he sense my need? My brazen desire To just be pleased, One night of lust, Infatuation and* greed He pulled her close, lips by her ear. "Come away with me, love me my dear." Taking her hand he left, through the crowd and up the street. Stopping only once, To kiss her oh so sweet. *My God, I wanna rip him apart right here I'm so wet, I'm soaked through I wanna lick, I wanna taste I'll do whatever he wants to I desire the feel of skin on skin Please, just let us* begin! Through the park they did run, In a gentle summer rain. Pushing her against a tree, her pleasure was his aim. Under the dress his hand did go, While he bite at her lips. She moaned into the night, and rocked her curvy hips. *I want him inside me, I can't wait till we get home, No, just do me against this tree, I'll pleasure him, if he just pleasures me I'm writhing, I'm wet I want his tongue probing my mouth, His palms splayed on my back Then moving so much farther* south He turns her around, she now faces the tree. Throwing up the dress, He goes on bended knee. ******* are ripped, as his silken tongue seeks. Her moans get louder, as her legs get weak. *Oh, heavenly bliss I've never felt anything sweeter The feel of his talented lips Just keep taking me higher Although this is completely satisfying The only thing I want is his entire length* inside me She rocked her hips, begging for more. As upon his tongue, her essence did pour. He let himself free, Sliding it across her **** Then slipped slowly inside, once he was slippery slick. *Oh My, just what I was waiting for I failed to conceal the moan I let slip He pushed even deeper inside me And I couldn't help but bite my lip With every inch I felt it farther in my core I let out a scream, begging for* MORE
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74
Symphony No.9 in d – minor, opus 125 Allegro ma non troppo The silence gives way gently to quiet tremolos rustling beneath the beckoning call of distant horns. A melodic cell, nascent in violins, spirals down to the somber depths of cello and contrabass. A sudden cataclysm shakes the hall like thunder heralding our universal birth. Gales of sonic force splashed like turbulent waves against the rocky shores. Drifting sans glass or sextant on a sea of expanding mystery, we gaze to the heavens in hopes for a glimpse of our father’s aetherial dwelling. Molto vivace With hands intertwined, we dance in a ring to the capricious airs of the laughing gods with Zeus himself on timpani. So pass the wine and kiss your neighbor and fill your glass to the brim! For today is yesterday’s morrow and tomorrow’s history. Adagio molto e cantabile There is no greater and more healing light than the candles that shine in the eyes of a friend or loving spouse -   tenderly lighting our paths through the storms and fogs that cloud our lives. Peace abides in a friend's embrace. An die Freude Against raging storms of strife and sorrow. we hear a healing voice A calm cello hymn - that migrates up to higher cords of violas and violins - breaking into joyous song sung by trumpets, winds and drums. Casting all shrillness of discord aside, a baritone lines out Schiller’s ode - and sings of Elysium’s daughter.   Quartet and chorus enter in proclaiming hope for the human family, A tenor raises a stein to valor in the company of his friends. The quiet pulsing of horns and winds ushers in torrents of ecstasy. Arms clasped in communal embrace, we gaze to heaven on bended knees then rise with a majestic fugue that illuminates our souls like a blazing Alpine dawn. In a cyclone of passion, Schiller's words and Beethoven's notes entreat us to restore what custom has rent apart that each of us may live our lives as brothers in heavenly sanctuary. May 25, 2007
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Sep 20, 2013
Sep 20, 2013 at 1:33 PM UTC
Beethoven and Schiller
Symphony No.9 in d – minor, opus 125 Allegro ma non troppo The silence gives way gently to quiet tremolos rustling beneath the beckoning call of distant horns. A melodic cell, nascent in violins, spirals down to the somber depths of cello and contrabass. A sudden cataclysm shakes the hall like thunder heralding our universal birth. Gales of sonic force splashed like turbulent waves against the rocky shores. Drifting sans glass or sextant on a sea of expanding mystery, we gaze to the heavens in hopes for a glimpse of our father’s aetherial dwelling. Molto vivace With hands intertwined, we dance in a ring to the capricious airs of the laughing gods with Zeus himself on timpani. So pass the wine and kiss your neighbor and fill your glass to the brim! For today is yesterday’s morrow and tomorrow’s history. Adagio molto e cantabile There is no greater and more healing light than the candles that shine in the eyes of a friend or loving spouse -   tenderly lighting our paths through the storms and fogs that cloud our lives. Peace abides in a friend's embrace. An die Freude Against raging storms of strife and sorrow. we hear a healing voice A calm cello hymn - that migrates up to higher cords of violas and violins - breaking into joyous song sung by trumpets, winds and drums. Casting all shrillness of discord aside, a baritone lines out Schiller’s ode - and sings of Elysium’s daughter.   Quartet and chorus enter in proclaiming hope for the human family, A tenor raises a stein to valor in the company of his friends. The quiet pulsing of horns and winds ushers in torrents of ecstasy. Arms clasped in communal embrace, we gaze to heaven on bended knees then rise with a majestic fugue that illuminates our souls like a blazing Alpine dawn. In a cyclone of passion, Schiller's words and Beethoven's notes entreat us to restore what custom has rent apart that each of us may live our lives as brothers in heavenly sanctuary. May 25, 2007
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69
In hope of skies blue, vast and undeterred are drying tears- collected by unseen smiles In threats of frigid but burning ground below is repentance- A repentance found both sooner and later One heavy with pastures of green- but none ever greener In ancient words from gilded pages, bound in leather hope and need Are no ripe answers for the raging revolution, only variant notions shifting from here to there- and back again The method of the three, is mystery beyond compare- Black like the dark hours that hide the light of the day Now and then- all that can be done, is to follow- on bloodied foot, over barren land The aim of the carpenter and his dinner guests is and always was direction Purpose from an old- but new compass in which one chooses to follow, deny or silently go in search of other lovers- all of a lesser degree At the table of offering- is space for bended knee and an odd but abstract desire for service Not to self- but to those who surround, and swim in the very sea in which the struggle it is to cross At the heart of creation are mountains and sandy crystalline beaches, then city roads All leading to country lanes, fields, rivers, lakes and vague dreams Alas though, no discernible or translucent choice prevails- All that's left is the true and meaningful will- of the weary traveler
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Oct 10, 2010
Oct 10, 2010 at 11:48 AM UTC
True and Meaningful Will
When he was still an atheist - he prayed. He did not settle down on bended knee. Forgiveness Love and peace are his today. He might have lost and never found his way, Hidden within Source helped this blind man see. When he was still an atheist - he prayed. Though many sacred blessings came his way, He never saw the incongruity. Forgiveness Love and peace are his today. At times he questioned choices he had made, He thought his life unlocked by good luck' s key. When he was still an atheist - he prayed. Although in war, angels came to his aid, He never saw past physicality. Forgiveness Love and peace are his today. When he could see his whole perspective changed, He found he lived in Love's eternity. When he was still an atheist - he prayed. Forgiveness Love and peace are his today.
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Nov 1, 2014
Nov 1, 2014 at 7:33 PM UTC
When He Was Still An Atheist - He Prayed
I ask my love on bended knee, “Sweetheart will you marry me?” To which I heard a quick reply.. “Yes, as soon as pigs can fly.” So I looked high, and I looked low for a real smart pig, and do you know., I found that pig sitting in a sty, And in a week or two taught him to fly. I showed the pig to my love, and then, Asked her to marry me once again. She said, “I’m sorry, but I lied.. When hell freezes over, I’ll be your bride. Now, this next part Is sad to tell, She got sick and died, and went to hell. Her cold heart, turned hell to ice, She’s waiting for me. Now ain’t that nice?
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Nov 27, 2011
Nov 27, 2011 at 9:47 AM UTC
On Bended Knee