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"benignity" poems
Static, memories Emanating, separating   The postcard- perfect Still life speaks From its storied past. Invisible, to drift Among   The florid aphorisms, Ending in Deleterious debris, Aftermath of The inevitable. Empty room, echo hollow Tabula rasa - Carpet clean, quite candid in it's Return to callow. Consciousness athirst, Absorbing phenomena Effervesce, inquisitive Ideas foment, Sealed inside a question. The what - Against the narrow Scarcity, And fatigue of should. A tender malleable Youth, Betrayed, under An assumed decorum - Residue of truth, Flattened emotion Privations of a self Unheard; Misplaced affirmation, Buried pathologies   In architecture Fear manifests symbolic. Harboring apathy The lunacy of pious Pedigree, Import contagion, Fetters of benignity Doubt and indecision   Into ****** Cognizance, Fallow spirits Seep fumes of decay, Credulity bleeds a human stain. Social edifice, inoculated   Heirs of neurosis; Palpable, sensual pain And transience, though Tacit - remain, Our haunted history, The blind hyperbole, Maudlin Forbearance, this haven, A portrait Of immaculate condition, Nurtured with precision Under sterling pretense. Provincial domicile - House beautiful, Savage irony - Unseen treasure Innocence unabridged, Faces, tiny creations; Compliant vessels Wounded,   While modernism murmurs   Its promise. Brave New World, In a late model sedan, Domestic ranch on a Corner lot, Suburban natives, Silence means security. The misunderstood Speak louder - Consumerism beneath     Unvarnished ambition, Never could Repair the brokenness within... © 2011 & 2018 W. S. Warner
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Oct 20, 2011
Oct 20, 2011 at 5:38 PM UTC
Hollow
Static, memories Emanating, separating   The postcard- perfect Still life speaks From its storied past. Invisible, to drift Among   The florid aphorisms, Ending in Deleterious debris, Aftermath of The inevitable. Empty room, echo hollow Tabula rasa - Carpet clean, quite candid in it's Return to callow. Consciousness athirst, Absorbing phenomena Effervesce, inquisitive Ideas foment, Sealed inside a question. The what - Against the narrow Scarcity, And fatigue of should. A tender malleable Youth, Betrayed, under An assumed decorum - Residue of truth, Flattened emotion Privations of a self Unheard; Misplaced affirmation, Buried pathologies   In architecture Fear manifests symbolic. Harboring apathy The lunacy of pious Pedigree, Import contagion, Fetters of benignity Doubt and indecision   Into ****** Cognizance, Fallow spirits Seep fumes of decay, Credulity bleeds a human stain. Social edifice, inoculated   Heirs of neurosis; Palpable, sensual pain And transience, though Tacit - remain, Our haunted history, The blind hyperbole, Maudlin Forbearance, this haven, A portrait Of immaculate condition, Nurtured with precision Under sterling pretense. Provincial domicile - House beautiful, Savage irony - Unseen treasure Innocence unabridged, Faces, tiny creations; Compliant vessels Wounded,   While modernism murmurs   Its promise. Brave New World, In a late model sedan, Domestic ranch on a Corner lot, Suburban natives, Silence means security. The misunderstood Speak louder - Consumerism beneath     Unvarnished ambition, Never could Repair the brokenness within... © 2011 & 2018 W. S. Warner
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84
O the One brighter than the brightest star! O the One who talked to the moon above! O the One whose presence bloomed all the flowers! O the Beaut One! O the Belovently Beloved One! O, Mustafa! You are the source of sparkle for our illuminating universe. Your luminosity left the shimmering sea overjoyed. Your benignity softened the hearts of hard-hearted. Your nobility had left me breathless. For how can I describe the indescribable?
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Apr 8, 2021
Apr 8, 2021 at 6:09 AM UTC
The Indescribable
I'm invisible  Placed myself in front of her path Mentally recited a joke to make her laugh ... But Our eyes never clashed  She walked right past  I'm invisible  In not invincible  So it hurts me every time she's blind to my benignity  But as soon as I'm malignant  I suddenly appear in her vision
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Oct 3, 2013
Oct 3, 2013 at 1:21 AM UTC
To be envisioned
#And Jacob sware by the fear of his father Isaac.                                                [Genesis 31:53] Sharp trauma must have lingered on for good in Isaac’s silent dazed humanity halted by heaven; trembling laid on wood too young to question father’s sanity. Was it a light thing? To be thus withstood by Jehovah’s awful benignity… Faltering further up life’s mountain, would he carry the damage with dignity? This just might explain the forty-year wait, meditating on the ram, on his fate. The paralyzing laughter of his name even after life unveiled in his tents. A certain hesitation does make sense in the son laid out on unkindled flame.
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Feb 25, 2017
Feb 25, 2017 at 9:52 AM UTC
The Fear of Isaac
I was a Moon in a dark abyss Wandering alone in tormented solace As aimlessly as a fish in bowl Glumly glad within my alien abode In a spur ___ you appeared from Nowhere A Blackhole pulling me towards its angelic snare Rearranging the space time fabric ___ To a whole new world ___ mystifying yet aesthetic And I couldn't resist, for that Benignity set my heart ablazed ___ filled its Valence shell Entwined with you I will step in eternity soon Hoping, your floral rugs bear stars and moons..!!
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Nov 2, 2024
Nov 2, 2024 at 10:05 AM UTC
The Known-Unknown
in yellow & pink her benignity wink in cheery pit rain there she hoodwink and hem this dress that cognate her trim line figure again with lips that sync in 3D graphic feature pic
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Apr 26, 2018
Apr 26, 2018 at 7:46 AM UTC
womanly weather
In their beauty, an unparalleled race From a higher, supernatural place, Driven to hidden, underground refuge When mans’ cynical wars the earth deluged- Leaving only the slightest, unclear trace. They knew no pain, nor any suffering And the world is darker from their leaving And we are left to pick up the pieces, While our own ambivalence increases, Seeking to find a singular meaning. You may call it naive wish fulfillment, But I will search for reconcilement. I will upturn the soil and the roots, Until I may procure some lasting truce Make amends for Ill-judged revilement And then mankind again will have a guide Some holy beings to gift us back our pride What a dream, to again have dignity To direct our kind to benignity So we may be pulled back from the wayside It’s all very romantic, isn’t it? That some saviors will see us fit. It takes the blame off us, Makes our apathy superfluous, Proves we are not hypocrites. But maybe we should fix our own mistakes, Go outside and clean our own ******* lakes, Stop hiding behind flowery language and care Waiting for a savior when they are rare, Before our zeal irreversibly breaks.
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Nov 16, 2020
Nov 16, 2020 at 9:27 PM UTC
Tuatha Dé Danann
Drowning sensations encircled my mind and swallowed every ray of hope I had of seeing you. My doubts spoke but never loud enough to choke out the messages I read from you at night. And no matter how many times you said I love you I could never trust a single one till the last time you said it. And your goodbyes stung the hardest the moments after you left. Because I could never register them. I could never forgive myself for blaming everything on the world and you. And you were my reason for wanting, to begin with. I had never wanted Longed Benignity Wistfully Felt entitled to anything in my life as Much as your love. And every breath I took added seconds away from the day it'd all be taken away from me. We both counted down the moon cycles like tiny thumb tacks falling off your moms favorite poster until it cascaded into the ground and she stopped hanging it up. We were put out to dry because our egos were more of a monster than our imagination at bedtime. And darling your monsters were always heavier than mine, but at least you had the strength to keep them at bay. Unlike all the times you watched mine escape. And because of that I'll never forget that chapter of my life where we argued into the night and scowered our never ending library of mistakes we had marked as UNCONSTITUTIONAL TO THIS LOVE BANK OF AGREEMENTS we never signed. So I left the dotted lines. And the ink from all the pens in our house dried. As your lips parted from mine and I sighed, knowing this would be our last goodbyes. And I finally saw your demons that night. Just like how you always put up with mine. And they were beautiful. Because they all looked like you. And I'll always treasure that memory of how we came to thrive off eachothers being. And how late late at night years after our fighting and constant mood killings and mood swings. I called you. Knowing there was always a piece residing in you That was mine. I love you. Goodnight
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Jul 9, 2017
Jul 9, 2017 at 1:48 AM UTC
Returning thoughts
Drowning sensations encircled my mind and swallowed every ray of hope I had of seeing you. My doubts spoke but never loud enough to choke out the messages I read from you at night. And no matter how many times you said I love you I could never trust a single one till the last time you said it. And your goodbyes stung the hardest the moments after you left. Because I could never register them. I could never forgive myself for blaming everything on the world and you. And you were my reason for wanting, to begin with. I had never wanted Longed Benignity Wistfully Felt entitled to anything in my life as Much as your love. And every breath I took added seconds away from the day it'd all be taken away from me. We both counted down the moon cycles like tiny thumb tacks falling off your moms favorite poster until it cascaded into the ground and she stopped hanging it up. We were put out to dry because our egos were more of a monster than our imagination at bedtime. And darling your monsters were always heavier than mine, but at least you had the strength to keep them at bay. Unlike all the times you watched mine escape. And because of that I'll never forget that chapter of my life where we argued into the night and scowered our never ending library of mistakes we had marked as UNCONSTITUTIONAL TO THIS LOVE BANK OF AGREEMENTS we never signed. So I left the dotted lines. And the ink from all the pens in our house dried. As your lips parted from mine and I sighed, knowing this would be our last goodbyes. And I finally saw your demons that night. Just like how you always put up with mine. And they were beautiful. Because they all looked like you. And I'll always treasure that memory of how we came to thrive off eachothers being. And how late late at night years after our fighting and constant mood killings and mood swings. I called you. Knowing there was always a piece residing in you That was mine. I love you. Goodnight
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32
The residual feeling of politest departure with the loving manner, sings out its heart to you. This systematic means of the language entreats its unquietly wordlessness to give an affectionate embrace to your benignity. The lover of this epic love seems to be astounded by the expounding intervention of your tender verses. -Restoring overtures of a trouveur endures an unnecessarily worrying heart. Shivpriya #beautifulthingsandemotions
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Apr 7, 2019
Apr 7, 2019 at 3:29 PM UTC
These ringing lines are remarkably greener
"Avail me liberate from my realm of disquietude, Words of rapture you could do just that, May I not beg for that may I not beseech, Only those words for a while I will be free, A touch of rapture will achieve dry lament, Your love supports me to be sinewy, We will be together regardless of doth wheel, Fixation is not love nor is fascination love, When you are treated improvidently it is not love, This is lack of the ingesting the feel of what love is, When you act to another in benignity and oblation, This is when love is pure and nobly prodigal, To this love I will belong noble unquestionably, This is when love is indissoluble and unexpurgated, No heights one can’t reach with true amorousness, With pure love eloquent other nobly prodigal, By A.Guzaldo 07/28/2018 ©
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Jul 28, 2018
Jul 28, 2018 at 4:04 PM UTC
“NOBLY PRODIGAL”