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"boding" poems
Roses, their sharp spines being gone, Not royal in their smells alone, But in their hue; Maiden pinks, of odour faint, Daisies smell-less, yet most quaint, And sweet thyme true; Primrose, firstborn child of Ver; Merry springtime’s harbinger, With her bells dim; Oxlips in their cradles growing, Marigolds on death-beds blowing, Larks’-heels trim; All dear Nature’s children sweet Lie ‘fore bride and bridegroom’s feet, Blessing their sense! Not an angel of the air, Bird melodious or bird fair, Be absent hence! The crow, the slanderous cuckoo, nor The boding raven, nor chough **** Nor chattering pye, May on our bride-house perch or sing, Or with them any discord bring, But from it fly!
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Bridal Song
ROSES, their sharp spines being gone, Not royal in their smells alone, But in their hue; Maiden pinks, of odour faint, Daisies smell-less, yet most quaint, And sweet thyme true; Primrose, firstborn child of Ver; Merry springtime's harbinger, With her bells dim; Oxlips in their cradles growing, Marigolds on death-beds blowing, Larks'-heels trim; All dear Nature's children sweet Lie 'fore bride and bridegroom's feet, Blessing their sense! Not an angel of the air, Bird melodious or bird fair, Be absent hence! The crow, the slanderous cuckoo, nor The boding raven, nor chough **** Nor chattering pye, May on our bride-house perch or sing, Or with them any discord bring, But from it fly!
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Jan 31, 2014
Jan 31, 2014 at 5:25 AM UTC
Bridal Song
Fickle Done in mentioned light... Through and due the common, the still Notice of compliment, a comment of right None The more we save, from the proof of simplicity Story's and a sulking tree, the seldom of fun in the sun Turned to universality, with the eyes of anarchy Amend Sour and refined, refrain from the beauty of compel? The pout of another gift and the choice of feeling's substance Over the quiet since, that has become ours to weal... Things And the duty of a desire in worthing heaven, the hell of unity Given me, and the role of synchronicity a resolve, to sweeten Time is a daring host, to assure even the tiniest of needs, vicinity Arduous Threshold in the lime, the boding of every else, in the book Staid and remembering decorum, like a hell is every cause When we are the understanding home, to a willing look... Force Are we a stir of responsibility in the arms of voice, or its cope? Timid as we are, the calling of it all, is a wisdom's source? Look hard for a nature? when you can have a friend for it's love... Caring True to mellower stares, the throe of uncanny light Made from the none, are we to survive a decision, so faring The response of decency, that a swim with the devil, is also right... Liberty Loan the call, to me for a universe's song Trust is a walking might of the deed, asking the seldom, evil's Is it me, or the shade in a wishes stir, the tout we held all along?
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Oct 10, 2022
Oct 10, 2022 at 4:45 PM UTC
I Found James Dean, In A Bottle Of Milk...
Life is a puzzle That won't be solved By the argument of your mind. It can neither be cracked In ivory towers Nor in the parlors of grapevine. The mystery of life Crowns the benighted With a twist of a wand Leaving the enlightened To commune with the dark. At best, it is a glass enclosure Attuning your moves Along the belt of blessing Beneath the shelter of stars And at its worst, A dungeon floor Delineating your lot In unbending reality Under the dome of despair. Exposed to eternal pumping Of raw information, Student of life knows But a speck of curricula At any given time The process of life's lessons Extends well beyond the grave Not even multiple lifetimes May suffice to scratch the surface Let alone discover the core Yet the student of life Knows no limit Goes to village today And metropolis tomorrow Mounts a mustang to Shangri-la Hops on a boat to outland. Tantamount to the amount of stars Are pictures of life Full of synonyms and antonyms Boding inflections and reflections Of thought, taste and bearing In the academy of day-and-night.
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Aug 14, 2018
Aug 14, 2018 at 8:40 AM UTC
Life Is a Puzzle
Rose redoubt Rose few, in the hate we fed Rose acts, when charisma is a pout Rose timid, with a live for all ahead Round eyes of decorum, vice in a wandering hope Let to take, a tryst of potential... Long if tooth, a wholesome day to arrive with our own Here is my naivete, and a steads sulking breeze so beautiful... When the world is rounder for a secret asking, to fulfil... Promise me, a livid course, a golden truth To the wanted more, when we are a soul of will The tone of our voice, becomes the drama and decency of accepting youth? Sophistication in a moment alone, with the weight of the world Seemingly not, before the needs of others, worth is a means to amends...? And the coltish example of the future, a repose of justness so early That a miracle in the form of a wish, is a simplicity we lend? Tales of the reach, the romance of curious senses And the heart of essence, we know even will... When boding hours are to be, the callous works of a world come to ends With a handful of what miracles were, a common where to the liberty of silence, so real
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Jun 7, 2023
Jun 7, 2023 at 2:37 PM UTC
Given A Simple Gift, Of Poignant Wishes
There is this bare stalk in my backyard. With upraised branches, all dried,  painted in contrast to the lush greenery all around: sometimes, I feel, like the branches of a swirling bolt fulminating against dark, brooding, boding skies. I have seen three seasons pass by. This stalk has remained bare. All around, trees have gone from withering to flowering and onward. This one though, stands constantly poignant, almost embodying pathos, endlessly mourning. Insects - termites? ants? I don't know, but I see they have covered large parts of the stalk. Raised to the skies, like an enigma, a puzzle thrown to the distant stars veiled by the firmament. Yes, I know this slow death that sustains life. Yes, I can relate to it. It is like this pain that haunts my soul. Like the song of the smudged moon on a misty night, sung to uncaring, asleep worlds. After skies weep out their agony, the music of the last tears dripping off tips of drooping leaves.
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May 20, 2013
May 20, 2013 at 12:23 PM UTC
Bare stalk in my backyard
When by my solitary hearth I sit, And hateful thoughts enwrap my soul in gloom; When no fair dreams before my "mind's eye" flit, And the bare heath of life presents no bloom; Sweet Hope, ethereal balm upon me shed, And wave thy silver pinions o'er my head! Whene'er I wander, at the fall of night, Where woven boughs shut out the moon's bright ray, Should sad Despondency my musings fright, And frown, to drive fair Cheerfulness away, Peep with the moonbeams through the leafy roof, And keep that fiend Despondence far aloof! Should Disappointment, parent of Despair, Strive for her son to seize my careless heart; When, like a cloud, he sits upon the air, Preparing on his spell-bound prey to dart: Chase him away, sweet Hope, with visage bright, And fright him as the morning frightens night! Whene'er the fate of those I hold most dear Tells to my fearful breast a tale of sorrow, O bright-eyed Hope, my morbidfancy cheer; Let me awhile thy sweetest comforts borrow: Thy heaven-born radiance around me shed, And wave thy silver pinions o'er my head! Should e'er unhappy love my ***** pain, From cruel parents, or relentless fair; O let me think it is not quite in vain To sigh out sonnets to the midnight air! Sweet Hope, ethereal balm upon me shed, And wave thy silver pinions o'er my head! In the long vista of the years to roll, Let me not see our country's honour fade: O let me see our land retain her soul, Her pride, her freedom; and not freedom's shade. From thy bright eyes unusual brightness shed--- Beneath thy pinions canopy my head! Let me not see the patriot's high bequest, Great Liberty! how great in plain attire! With the base purple of a court oppress'd, Bowing her head, and ready to expire: But let me see thee stoop from heaven on wings That fill the skies with silver glitterings! And as, in sparkling majesty, a star Gilds the bright summit of some gloomy cloud; Brightening the half veil'd face of heaven afar: So, when dark thoughts my boding spirit shroud, Sweet Hope, celestial influence round me shed, Waving thy silver pinions o'er my head!
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To Hope
When by my solitary hearth I sit, And hateful thoughts enwrap my soul in gloom; When no fair dreams before my "mind's eye" flit, And the bare heath of life presents no bloom; Sweet Hope, ethereal balm upon me shed, And wave thy silver pinions o'er my head! Whene'er I wander, at the fall of night, Where woven boughs shut out the moon's bright ray, Should sad Despondency my musings fright, And frown, to drive fair Cheerfulness away, Peep with the moonbeams through the leafy roof, And keep that fiend Despondence far aloof! Should Disappointment, parent of Despair, Strive for her son to seize my careless heart; When, like a cloud, he sits upon the air, Preparing on his spell-bound prey to dart: Chase him away, sweet Hope, with visage bright, And fright him as the morning frightens night! Whene'er the fate of those I hold most dear Tells to my fearful breast a tale of sorrow, O bright-eyed Hope, my morbidfancy cheer; Let me awhile thy sweetest comforts borrow: Thy heaven-born radiance around me shed, And wave thy silver pinions o'er my head! Should e'er unhappy love my ***** pain, From cruel parents, or relentless fair; O let me think it is not quite in vain To sigh out sonnets to the midnight air! Sweet Hope, ethereal balm upon me shed, And wave thy silver pinions o'er my head! In the long vista of the years to roll, Let me not see our country's honour fade: O let me see our land retain her soul, Her pride, her freedom; and not freedom's shade. From thy bright eyes unusual brightness shed--- Beneath thy pinions canopy my head! Let me not see the patriot's high bequest, Great Liberty! how great in plain attire! With the base purple of a court oppress'd, Bowing her head, and ready to expire: But let me see thee stoop from heaven on wings That fill the skies with silver glitterings! And as, in sparkling majesty, a star Gilds the bright summit of some gloomy cloud; Brightening the half veil'd face of heaven afar: So, when dark thoughts my boding spirit shroud, Sweet Hope, celestial influence round me shed, Waving thy silver pinions o'er my head!
Continue reading...
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Proper with sight seen Making the noise of privilege If not the cares of reprimand Long to the land, we know callousness, like a religion No epitome, no illustriousness In the again of since and a charity Of veracity complete, to a sincere guess The reigning hello, of decision of life, in its variety So made, so accused A marriage of such and conclusions much... To due, the courage to acquire the boding, of enthusiasm Still to worldly eyes, is a relationship with vice the only cause? The only cause to develop a change of merit, into the living Taste and testimony, always were... The taken and made, hour of hope come from a running Stead and foresworn need, the role of vision is for... A head above the water, of mutual suicide Silence of heaven, with a realization of couth Could in the shared eyes of composure, to these even wryed Is a levity in cares, that rise above the uncertainty of carnal who'd?
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Aug 30, 2024
Aug 30, 2024 at 1:02 AM UTC
The Promises Of Coming Of Age, Right Now
Lost, refound Boding a sense of austerity... That predicted a conscience, of how The wait and waters, of possibility... Finish me My salt's worth, is a heroism to find The world in a tailspin, a poised anarchy? That sees the seldom of assurance to mind... Long and bared The tooth of passion Has been lost, somewhere And a secret with my needs, has an intuition Berate a friend for slowness...? A tale of homage and vestige, to count As another ideal live and let live, of kindness Has come and gone, to consider a chastity in the round? Curiosity, is at an all-time high? Time with a haphazard sign of the times? Bared elucidation will become our justice for nigh? Asked by a truer us, the past to few, is but intellects shines? Until... A silence is broken by the seizure of occults Of vice and sigh's of vindication, a bitter pill? We can spend on moral's, the better purpose without walls Pittances and pains, patience and poorness Through an angel's eyes, devil's become a shadow Of complexity we should know, for a world to guess A faring sunshine to tell a story about a staring shame, love?
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Jun 20, 2022
Jun 20, 2022 at 12:06 AM UTC
Having A Daydream, On Lingering Shores...?
A boding of ill will Gives him a new life, a new thrill Enter the tenth part of torment A past life that lies dormant Enstilling a passion in those we've met People die And now I watch her cry I thought I had found the love of my past A friendship which runs so deep Meets a precipice so steep And alas It was all a cruel lie Causing a soul to attatch itself to a mind The mind of this poor boy So lost So hurt So cold His life spent as a mere toy Such a cost What's it worth The loss of one's hold Making happiness so hard to find Reality Is a mystery To a mind shrouded in misery Hoping for a feeling of sincerity Or clarity A rarety That his soul should be unfurled Upon this world So lost So hurt And so cold We have all but lost control A sickness not even it's host could fathom Yet I'm merely a piece of this puzzle And my name is Adam
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May 23, 2016
May 23, 2016 at 6:30 PM UTC
The Schizophrenic Diaries X (Adam)
Patience, fate Trees and treasures of kind The tale of inclined sate Has a sunny disposition, as if time Care for a threshold of dissuasion another day? Real regret, is the purpose behind our musings Anger and delves of uniqueness, are to begin with may A choice of shoulders, save itself for what patience looses... Salt, is a final run to safety, a hug in the wind? Curious speed, the irony of candor, to exist Bred upon balance and the common, the tone of a new voice That was a care, the towardness of you, an embarrassed list... With no man's land, came the wish of potential Sulking and denoted to be, the vice of remembering The otherwise certain specific, the tongue of quintessential Looks of responsibility for a question to guidance, sometimes humbling... Will you marry me? Places of blossoms, and the callous through and due, today Of a quiet simplicity, for the anecdote of when boding is anarchy Isn't a world of itself, the only reason a challenged voice, was anyway? Persist and pout The devil and the deed of the bluesy's... Right to contain and contemplate another good intent, shout Upon a caring rainbow found in the mere, all more, and me...
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Oct 12, 2022
Oct 12, 2022 at 10:24 PM UTC
Talking To Myself, After The Reign...
Honor, I wear a discotheque Like, a clown's first dance Integrity, comes for permission, wicked Opinion, salt and pepper on an egg, is a demon's problem Little more, than a thank you Sassafras, is no hap's ecstasy In the proud and angry due... We made a frank photograph, your drunk intimacy... Is a pardoned stare, at faerie tales Meant upheld, upheaval is a wager Of a world, with no clash with vice fail's Proper though, in the name of fate's mere Mercy, with an extra shirt Ready for a pant's relent, regret In an unescapable kiss, of hurt And possessing quaintness, we are the boding let... Witness the gasp... Of a spirit, erudite to a finish Of levity, long before callous can ask Is it all right, to wink at liberty's wish?
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Nov 9, 2024
Nov 9, 2024 at 3:37 PM UTC
I Don't Like You
when suffering's luster loses glow, when overcoming is never known, what dreams may come from fire below, lonesome moments, ever-boding, misery imposed, for evermore, glorious warnings from sordid war, of freedom imploring, indifference ignoring, and discontent exploring our stratosphere... measly metamorphs, wearily forcing inaction forward, desperately sourcing mortality, fallacy after fallacy fall to their knees, umpteen deviations, outlandish iterations, exhausted, accost me no more, mister consciousness, for I've already given in, just when my sin uncovers itself, befuddled and bereft, at the gates of hell, the self dispenses its painful beliefs: that nothing comes without leaving, remains we bequeath only provide what's conceded, so seek what is needed, impede not the other, and love will muster from such healthy souls.
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Aug 15, 2019
Aug 15, 2019 at 2:06 AM UTC
What Dreams May Come
Didn't, to foretell? Have and need soon, the exaction in a pace We foretell is peace, a looking wish, well... The reach of a new passion, seldom in may? Choices Staring ours, to win the pardon Here is my, courtesy in new sources... That collect a need, with calm as a problem Hatred, is a role to finish a thought With a deed's chaste... Welcome it to a liberty, with no future, but a whim...? That worlds have claimed that no man may pass... Up In heaven, them and tows of charisma Curious, enough to understate love? With another use, in the corner with its own; enigma Here indeed... The irony of response, kindness, to wrap a frank finger About the succor of purpose, the identity of becoming heed Been whether a bit lip, a changing season and a breeze to linger... In your soul, with a boding craving... Peace was a simple friend, that you sent to a lovelorn ghost? Speak your piece of a puzzle, none the less a work in saving... Another way, from the spoils of worlds, that has come to host: Us The praise of angst, for a belly of conscience and mere? An awakening hindsight to love, to remind in certain voice, thus Is its own reward when a callous promise shines; is, was never fear...
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Sep 9, 2022
Sep 9, 2022 at 4:58 PM UTC
Pride Offered, For A New Cough (Nation's Asking)
My life is the need the telling you it’s this. The wait for the end to end in something all over again to end. Heaven hands to handles around bus metal shoot cold shrapnel up fingers when the streets of the usual routes jump to tell something new. That lingers. Ah, her expression through air has showed me time. It was hope—easy dizziness, speeches bouncing off the sky’s edge for destitute souls, long lost in whirring sea-sharp staring… Yes, I have claimed nothing but the battle. It was white branded on the bus’s windows, those other silent faces sitting being subsumed in her airy picture, the grumbling soothing sough of the motor preaching, reaching over the cymballed mountains out there, shaking the earth under my feet. Then the crash, her face swept under the bowing, the rolling waves, no breath, merciless. Boding nothing but the battle. Still the battle. An end to nothing. Isn’t that something.
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Mar 27, 2012
Mar 27, 2012 at 6:08 PM UTC
It's This
I can let go of everything; I can release all that I'm holding. This is the worst-case scenario- I don't think I am boding well. Sever all we've bound; Let's get lost in the beauty of sound. Let's make a plan to get clean, a plan to get sober. We wont give up without a fight- This isn't over and I wish I began all of this sooner. I can keep up with my mind. I can, at least most of the time. There definitely are ghosts in me- I only preach what I believe. As good as things began, blossoms only grow old in the end. Let's make a plan to get clean, a plan to get sober. You can't give up the ghost, you've got to fight- this isn't over. So, why must this begin over and over again?
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Mar 21, 2013
Mar 21, 2013 at 10:45 PM UTC
Flowers on Doomsday
Avid or lead Salt in the way Summation to verify our, vanity ahead... Succor and hints of whether, a sermon of place... The course of a new ship? Set to sail, with suicide as a destination Sour liberty has shown us, the boding of unity, asking wit... The voice, of wealth and remorse is an oddity, to intimation? Spare futures, in the eyes of the land... Somehow, and with aged forces to avow... Life here, is a poignant sulk, of what was chaos in hand Toward the somber horizon, the life of seriousness, now...? Has a marvel in times way... Since borrowed timidity is to be a challenge, of ecstasy? Will we sit for a nightmare, or is that a question to stay Stronger than a half sighed, half worthy pace of choice... Is this horse dead, or running for its life? Such a small price to pay, for the answer of privilege? Sweeter by decency, decorum is a new wish for strife... Antiquity shown, or the method to a wager of sincerity's, least? Aches, chills, glares and pains Best served by sleep? a host of vicinity to a futures blanket Seemingly meant and let, with a proper smile, come plane Where the tow of vice and its vision of home, is a sick lover's face met?
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Jul 19, 2024
Jul 19, 2024 at 8:57 PM UTC
An Angel's Halo, To Trade For A Horse?
Nine angels Care and naked simplicity Future weal, to remind in open quarrel Speed is a having guest, to avarice when implicitly... A heart of darkness And the cares of calling a friend to the table Rued gestures of candor, a candle of secrets And the stir of something greater, than a justifiable... Looking hard, for a salient generosity of ply and can Will a shared eye, begin here, or in the meet Of promises told to take their time, a stodgy plan? Letting boding become a shame? taking a seat... Ten angels And the blindness of voices attuned to a pitch Vice and curiosity to tender a vantage, well Who is the other side of privilege in the dark, so rich? I am, says one, the truth in terrified gifts... Is a language we can afford; a hatred of hearts, and nix? With a nobility of silence, we have adjusted might's to is... A hearkening joke, the only way to survive the day, ad sic.? All flee, but the one, and the need of cause serious To remember the taste of couth, complimenting the hour with aim Did, says the one to remain, the word of composure is ours furious Adding, says the rest to a whole comfort, I knew by the very name...
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Mar 16, 2023
Mar 16, 2023 at 2:03 PM UTC
Nine Ways To Stay, In Love With May
It detonates the thunder of it reverberates grates on my nerves resonating within. The explosion corrodes me boding nought but ill still I ignite. Why fight the inevitable,why not just stay in the bubble and keep out of trouble? It detonates.
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Feb 5, 2014
Feb 5, 2014 at 3:24 AM UTC
Birth day
Yet, to affirm... With a realm to sake, biding... Boding a habit, of creating a sojourn To a peaceful cause, in the shape of destiny, earns adding? Within the wait of redemption, a droll season Has sat and noticed me, in a privileges smile... The land has it to yearn, for a future to wind and remain? In a stoic refrain, we mention to any's fate, all the while: Curious beginnings With a reach for any who would The salt of a shared stipulation, semblance of endings...? That become the inheritance of now, the house of all and good? Awakening at their appointed hour: Our suggestion, our intimation... Of cope, and a colloquial prayer, set to dour Music? and the integrity of a world's forces of generations? A prayer that turned into a defiant star... Welcoming the here, the intellect of perception Where we were, where distances of courage stare far The need of silence and its prodigy, with a blind intuition...? All of heed, a God warming to us... We know this, with a remnant eye The tarry of promises, to question even simplicity, thus Nature with a conscience's vote, a role of integrity to lie? Upon a bed of dignity, an answer for anarchy... Worth in a worlds share, have we finished the patience's of peace? Or the resumption of a halt to harrow, a hell in the name of what was merry...? Times, the court of siblings with a deed for you, adrenaline is living's feast...
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May 3, 2025
May 3, 2025 at 1:37 PM UTC
Psyches Of A World So Poor, So In Love...
i. an ailment of the mind, incorporeal, a ghost that flits between worlds, festers and grows — a thumping tumour. ii. sick, but not really sick. (does it hurt? paracetamol might help). you are exaggerated and foolish. count your blessings. iii. potent to change reality. stronger than any mushrooms. a single thought, the words and the images, gunslingers to misery. iv. hook that reels in, boding some ominous fate. fish out of water — flippity-flop; people sunbathe around. v. plodding is what it is. plodding through a tempest, freezing, crackled skin, watching everyone else walking in sun. vi. you want to scream but don’t. you want to explain but don’t. you let them form their own ideas and agree. you feed on it.
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Jan 29, 2019
Jan 29, 2019 at 7:43 AM UTC
realms of the brain
An interesting thing happened before the election, both parties were rooting for their chosen candidate with fever pitched excitement. David and I favored the Biden/Harris ticket. in fact, first time ever we planted a sign on our front lawn. Everyday felt like a horse race. Then one evening as we went for a relaxing stroll, we ran into a neighbor who was an avid horticulturist, he was perched on the side of the road examining wildflowers he looked at us and said, "I don't mean to be political but do you know what this flower is called?" I said, "Daisy?" It was a small dainty daisy looking blossom he said, "It's called the Biden family Daisy." Both David and I gasped with delight What an auspicious omen, all was boding well for Biden/Harris. Then post election, after Biden/Harris won the presidency and the fervor and tension calmed down, I noticed on a morning jaunt Biden Daisy families exploding in size. They romped through urban street meadows, neighborhood lawns sides of the road, their jolly miniature white and yellow pinwheel faces bobbing in the breeze. Suddenly my eyes caught something quite unusual, the white pearl petals on some of the Biden family daisies had transformed into vibrant purple amethyst petals "How Royal!" I thought to myself and befitting our new leaders
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Mar 20, 2021
Mar 20, 2021 at 7:38 PM UTC
Purple Biden
Serendipity True to through Though, a rainbow travel far The question of might, is openly should A house of energy's Quiet critique Halt and habit, specific Live sincerity's life well, we have each Doors may close And suspect a chaste Is a courage to pose The other side of promises, fast The conquering of death, with dread Ahead is a boding continue Of what we know, is a living lead To the sigh of consummation, with liberty due... We see the creation, the commotion Owed a love, by the reality of sakes Made to keep a rolling serve of devotion To the mercy of us, all of a lover's might, with which we make...
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Oct 10, 2024
Oct 10, 2024 at 9:22 AM UTC
Truer Offering's, "The Fault Of Love"
Order to chaos, at a glance? As a wholesome venture, of what we pronounce Is adding the white of the eyes, an all of influence? Has come to the fore, and shown the doldrum it haunts... Peace and a real thirst, for a clue in the wry... Sated with the coming hours, of decency we meant, will The provision of seldom, toured and biased in courteous, shyness An angel with passion to earn and each, insists dread, still...? A place in the heart of civility... A face asking the table of conscience, to look for the irony Oft tutelage and their solaces, a penny to spend on originality... A faith in the unknown, we reveal is fright's epiphany? Voices we have heard, that made the point of a lifetime With range and devotion to verify, the elucidation of meagerness? And its boding history, the total of enumeration in the face of trying? And the fertile now, and subtle distance to weighing the opuses we elect Alcohol and judgments character? Instinct is a shrewd contender, for what was a world of significance And alarmed firsts, to the longest visit of intuition, or its faring? A method of uniqueness, to show a calm of whimsy that is a seasons chance... Meted reasons with a clash of simplicity for you... Tales of reproach or in defense of totals, the schemes of things Looking the part and petition of suppose, the tear we reveal is, due The hands of antipathy in vice and demeanor, the identity we saw, become a meaning...
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Feb 22, 2021
Feb 22, 2021 at 9:07 PM UTC
Where Races Win Themselves, For Friends
So waited... In human color The reasons of a fury, to be fated A wish of service to an ideal, as patience's fulfilment Clear the worth Care for a stomached hap Calls of when, we were the roles of earth Comes with a friend, to same and laugh The boding nature Of a promises jealousy Toward the final lip, of coming whole to learn A wish, is for any who would the rise of anarchy The race of shame, succinct To the liberty of virtue, a heart of sincerity? With creation as a name, a place of inclination With the volition of time, came in words of simplicity A wager of pomposity: If a callous form to ethics is to be Is a legend of redoubt, ours for a clashing lividity? See the cope, the succor of avid live; collect a hold of identity...
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Apr 26, 2025
Apr 26, 2025 at 8:10 AM UTC
Probably, Just Justice's Tavern...