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"bounces" poems
Choosing a series a words for a ditty, Those we first pluck a few at a time. For readers it will, at first, seem so pretty When they detect that rhythm and rhyme. But soon, I suggest, it becomes such a chore, When words strung together do pose An oft-trodden pattern or insipid score That bounces and sings as it goes. The message conveyed in this rigid frame, Is lesser I fear than than when we escape From words chosen for just ending the same Or some fortuitous fit to that shape. So I tend to lean towards using blank form, For verses I build by the letter, And chose the words that I feel will conform To that which my heart says are better.
0
Aug 18, 2013
Aug 18, 2013 at 11:31 AM UTC
Sarcastic Pentameter
I adore the lightness of your eyelashes How they are the moment before takeoff I adore your laugh How it bounces like a cluster of balloons flying away I adore your hands How they electrocute me with warmth I adore your arms How they are strong enough to never let go I adore your eyes How they aren’t just a window to your soul, but to the entire universe I adore you Like the moon loves the sun I adore you Of a consuming caliber I adore you Like the summer needs just a hint of rain *I adore you with every single fiber of my being.*
0
Sep 7, 2014
Sep 7, 2014 at 12:58 PM UTC
i adore you
Bipolar is not just swinging madly across a spectrum of deep blue to fiery orange without being stained by the indigos and greens, yellows and reds in between. Bipolar is not just a season blessed and a season cursed on a cycle of happen, rinse, repeat. bipolar is not just Loud uncontrollable chatter laughter that bounces off the insides of your head Or earthshattering sobs that give way to teardrops that are waterfalls. bipolar is not just wanting to rove our hands over the planes and curves of every body we happen to find **** bipolar is not just an amalgamation of wounds in various stages of healing each with an ugly story to tell. Bipolar is just so hard to deal with, (sometimes).
0
Apr 29, 2015
Apr 29, 2015 at 11:38 AM UTC
pendulum (swing, swing)
Somewhere there is a nurse putting clean sheets on what was once someone's death bed. Somewhere there is a police officer laying awake at two in the morning contemplating breaking his thumbs so he won't have to pull another trigger. Somewhere there is a body bag taking the shape of a person. Somewhere a warden has accidentally called a prisoner by their first name. Somewhere there is a man getting ready to pay for his glass of whiskey, his '1 year' AA token falls out of his wallet onto the bar counter. Somewhere the glass is completely empty, somewhere it's overflowing. Somewhere a therapist sitting in an empty session reading the local newspaper's obituary section wondering what she could've done. Somewhere a bullet has fallen in love with a heart, giving a whole new meaning to the 'kiss of death'. Somewhere the girl that never speaks is raising her hand but immediately putting it back down after the sound of her classmates' laughter bounces back and forth from the back of her mind to the front. Somewhere the silence at the dinner table is making a dent in a child's suit of armor. Somewhere a 70 year old man starts skipping instead of walking, he stops taking his medication. Somewhere there is a mother too drunk to sign her daughter's permission slip. Somewhere a man has stolen all of the flowers from a grave, so he can somehow feel as though he's being missed. Somewhere a child is asked what she wants to be when she grows up, she realizes ''myself'' isn't a good enough answer. Somewhere a mirror has been mistaken for a stranger. Somewhere someone is being loved by another person the only way they know how to love; whether it's through kisses, bruises, sleeping too closely to the other, or fifteen missed calls. Somewhere a man is falling in love with the automated voice inside of a voice mail because at least she will listen to him. Somewhere a 911 operator is walking into her house, hearing screams that aren't actually there. Somewhere these short stories are being broadcasted on the news, printed in the paper, whispered to a friend, or rotting in the back of someone's head. Somewhere I am whispering all of these things to a silent room full of people, none of them look up.
0
Aug 17, 2014
Aug 17, 2014 at 9:41 PM UTC
Short, Totally Meaningless Stories
Somewhere there is a nurse putting clean sheets on what was once someone's death bed. Somewhere there is a police officer laying awake at two in the morning contemplating breaking his thumbs so he won't have to pull another trigger. Somewhere there is a body bag taking the shape of a person. Somewhere a warden has accidentally called a prisoner by their first name. Somewhere there is a man getting ready to pay for his glass of whiskey, his '1 year' AA token falls out of his wallet onto the bar counter. Somewhere the glass is completely empty, somewhere it's overflowing. Somewhere a therapist sitting in an empty session reading the local newspaper's obituary section wondering what she could've done. Somewhere a bullet has fallen in love with a heart, giving a whole new meaning to the 'kiss of death'. Somewhere the girl that never speaks is raising her hand but immediately putting it back down after the sound of her classmates' laughter bounces back and forth from the back of her mind to the front. Somewhere the silence at the dinner table is making a dent in a child's suit of armor. Somewhere a 70 year old man starts skipping instead of walking, he stops taking his medication. Somewhere there is a mother too drunk to sign her daughter's permission slip. Somewhere a man has stolen all of the flowers from a grave, so he can somehow feel as though he's being missed. Somewhere a child is asked what she wants to be when she grows up, she realizes ''myself'' isn't a good enough answer. Somewhere a mirror has been mistaken for a stranger. Somewhere someone is being loved by another person the only way they know how to love; whether it's through kisses, bruises, sleeping too closely to the other, or fifteen missed calls. Somewhere a man is falling in love with the automated voice inside of a voice mail because at least she will listen to him. Somewhere a 911 operator is walking into her house, hearing screams that aren't actually there. Somewhere these short stories are being broadcasted on the news, printed in the paper, whispered to a friend, or rotting in the back of someone's head. Somewhere I am whispering all of these things to a silent room full of people, none of them look up.
Continue reading...
1
I used to step on the solid ground The grey asphalt with li'l pebbles in black in it I used to walk with cemented pavement Where no one hinders me to enjoy the tack I'm in. You led me to the boat And together, we left the crowd My knees are shaking, as if I'm freezing You guided me to enter that narrow boat And I had nothing but myself to bring For it may sink with tons of extra things. We started sailing The curtained sky was the scene With lil stars painted on it And the depth of the ocean was present It bounces the crescent up there. I felt the wind brushed my hair He sounds so mad with the clouds supporting him My feet trembles with fear as my faith does. You are with me, oh Jesus And I asked you if you care For I may fall from where we are And you may not see it and forget I was there at all. Words come from your mouth And the wind listened with your sweet voice You brought peace and calmed my raging seas. I trust no one but You Even if I don't know how far but I'm ready though Oh held my hands indeed, Let my grip be frozen upon your hands. I'll sit and take a look at the vistas And move the boat as we sail You'll teach me how to act And wherever we'll go, You are with me. (6/4/2014 @xirlleelang)
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Jun 26, 2014
Jun 26, 2014 at 10:50 PM UTC
The Boat is not Sinking
Fear and panic sweep over me. I need to move but I'm paralyzed by my need for normalcy. One pop of a pill and it will drift away, and I will sleep. But sleep is for the weak, or is sleep for the week? That's what my body bounces back and forth between. There is no middle. No start. Eventually an End. The inner meaning of desire bounces from my heart to my head, as if it is the ball in a pin ball machine. I try to fight off this anxious feeling, though it is a chemical imbalance in my brain. Why do I fight with the chemicals in my body? I fight to feel normal. I fight to not rely on a simple pop of a pill that my doctor gives me. She tells me to take it when I need it, she trusts me. Sometimes I feel that trust is too much. Because this anxiety is a metaphor for life, and I know that problems cannot be solved, by one simple solution. I fight to be strong.
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Jan 9, 2014
Jan 9, 2014 at 12:51 PM UTC
Metaphor for life
I wonder how our great creator built a vessel strong enough to contain my soul? Each day my spirit fights against my skin with violent jolts as a young bird seeking exit from a cage. Unfettered psyche free from me bounces among clouds rolls through deserts, climbs volcanic ridges migrates with birds in flight. Curious instincts guide my vital force inside and out like honey bees scour zinnias in full bloom. Dare I release my spirit today?
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Jan 1, 2017
Jan 1, 2017 at 4:24 PM UTC
Contain My Soul
Without a rope but squaring the circle the giant man gives it a try takes a flight off to the sky only to fall flat on the ground. She turns around gives the circle her pi. He bounces back and retakes the flight Que Sera, Sera on the way!
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Jun 6, 2018
Jun 6, 2018 at 12:46 PM UTC
Que Sera, Sera On The Way
You are a Woman of Iron, Composed of high expectations, Forged with strong morals. Quenched by the coldness of the world. Your determination stands firm against all challenges. Victories are graciously and easily surrendered to you. Energetic and effective action. All around you, people take notice. Your are a Woman of Silk, Your feminine form, undeniably **** Your sweet odor is of respect and admiration. Your skin, amazingly smooth & firm. Your sensal lips draw me closer. Your smile, beautifuly contagious, brightens all the day. Your blue-gray eyes, sparkle of happiness and captures my soul Your sassy auburn hair, thick and shinney, bounces and flows as you graciously move about. Your voice is soothing, it sings to my heart. Your laughter, lifts my spirits, A perfect combination, you are... A woman of Iron & Silk!
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Nov 3, 2012
Nov 3, 2012 at 5:52 PM UTC
Woman of Iron & Silk (v1)
I want to hug you If only for one last time. I miss your ribs pressed against mine In an embrace I can lean into With you always catching me. I miss your deep brown eyes Whether surrounded in perfect eyeliner Or bags painted on From worried nights. I miss looking into those eyes Trying to figure out How I can calm them. I miss your long thin legs Sharing a seat with me when no one else will When there are no longer seats for me to take, They’re there for me. I miss how every girl was jealous of them, I miss being jealous too. I miss your fantasy lips, Pointing out but softly. With a deep valley separating it From your nose. The nose, I miss that too. I miss the way it slopes, The tiny nostrils, The little indent at the top. The one that makes you slightly imperfect. I miss your feet. Not the feet hidden in high heels Masking your shortness. But the feet that wore those red sneakers On a Halloween. You were a ladybug. I miss you comforting me, If only I’m afraid of a ladybug. I miss being able to crawl into your lap. I miss having someone who will let me Cry until I’m done. I miss your curling hair. Its confidence, Unlike mine that is burnt everyday. I miss its cuteness, The way it bounces, How for every hundred brown hairs, There’s a blonde one. I miss the way we can be so similar, And the way we can be so different. I miss your appearance of evilness, But more, I miss your hidden kindness. The way when we were younger you’d grab my hand, As soon as a teacher mentioned partners. I miss that. I miss you.
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Nov 4, 2012
Nov 4, 2012 at 7:14 PM UTC
I Miss You
I want to hug you If only for one last time. I miss your ribs pressed against mine In an embrace I can lean into With you always catching me. I miss your deep brown eyes Whether surrounded in perfect eyeliner Or bags painted on From worried nights. I miss looking into those eyes Trying to figure out How I can calm them. I miss your long thin legs Sharing a seat with me when no one else will When there are no longer seats for me to take, They’re there for me. I miss how every girl was jealous of them, I miss being jealous too. I miss your fantasy lips, Pointing out but softly. With a deep valley separating it From your nose. The nose, I miss that too. I miss the way it slopes, The tiny nostrils, The little indent at the top. The one that makes you slightly imperfect. I miss your feet. Not the feet hidden in high heels Masking your shortness. But the feet that wore those red sneakers On a Halloween. You were a ladybug. I miss you comforting me, If only I’m afraid of a ladybug. I miss being able to crawl into your lap. I miss having someone who will let me Cry until I’m done. I miss your curling hair. Its confidence, Unlike mine that is burnt everyday. I miss its cuteness, The way it bounces, How for every hundred brown hairs, There’s a blonde one. I miss the way we can be so similar, And the way we can be so different. I miss your appearance of evilness, But more, I miss your hidden kindness. The way when we were younger you’d grab my hand, As soon as a teacher mentioned partners. I miss that. I miss you.
Continue reading...
55
It starts with a tickle to my heart tries to gently push my lips apart I resist, much to it's consternation, not giving in to it's polite provocation It bounces around in my brain, so distracting! Ever so slowly I feel my discipline cracking My heart starts to race, my eyes turn to steel I must stand my ground!  I simply can't yield! You look into my eyes sigh my last defense broken... How could I ever have stopped these words being spoken? I love you .
0
Feb 7, 2017
Feb 7, 2017 at 9:12 PM UTC
The Struggle
Chirp chirp A sparrow hops and flitters Jumps and flutters From branch To branch To wire Lining up with all her friends Waiting for some skybus to take them away Twitter and chortling about the world below Silly humans in their lucid bubbles of Space Squirrels chattering and cussing from the trees Thieving birdseeds and peaches Meanwhile the sparrow bounces on the wire Jittery and full of energy Twitching and flicking her feathers and tail Boune bounce hop Fidget and jump on straw thin legs And then whoosh All leave at once Their invisible skytrain pulling away as fast as it comes
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Oct 28, 2012
Oct 28, 2012 at 11:21 AM UTC
sparrows
A world wide phrase known so well as a lie, but as I say this to you, a lie, is the furthest it can get from the truth I will not curl my pinkie around yours like kids do in elementary, I will not look into your eyes and say these words because that's just too simple, I will spend my lifetime making you believe Making sure you do not have the slightest doubt in me, in us, in this ring I'm putting on your finger, this I promise to you I promise I will kiss the tears off your cheeks when you cry, I will tell you you're beautiful over and over and over even though I know so well that you'll deny it time and time again I promise That every word coming out of those soft luscious lips will be heard, never ignored, and when you feel like you're free falling down to the rock bottom of your life, I will be there, arms outstretched and ready to catch you, cradle you in my arms, happily walking you down the path of the journey you're destined to take Whether it means carrying you on my back like a backpack, on my shoulders like a toddler, or in my arms like a newborn baby I promise I will never live without you I will never let go of those bright blue eyes so detailed like the deep color of the ocean water, illuminated by a layered color palette of sunset The gleam of your soft, smooth dark brown hair that catches my eye every time will always be mine, the coconut smell so enticing I lick my lips and beg for more I promise To always follow along to the orchestrated love song your voice plays for me every time you speak To never stray from the beat of the drum your heart pounds every time you breathe or the wonderful wave of your laughter that bounces on air with every joke To never let any challenges come between us or keep us apart because I will always find my way back to you like a lost puppy looking for it's owner, a baby bird trying to find it's mother, or a turtle making its way to the sea You will stay a tattoo on my heart and a stained picture in my mind, never once leaving my thoughts, always in my arms I promise To think of you when my eyes are open and when they are closed, as the sun rises and as the sun falls, and until the day that I die, I will use every breath I have to whisper I love you I promise I do
0
Oct 23, 2012
Oct 23, 2012 at 4:25 PM UTC
I Promise
A world wide phrase known so well as a lie, but as I say this to you, a lie, is the furthest it can get from the truth I will not curl my pinkie around yours like kids do in elementary, I will not look into your eyes and say these words because that's just too simple, I will spend my lifetime making you believe Making sure you do not have the slightest doubt in me, in us, in this ring I'm putting on your finger, this I promise to you I promise I will kiss the tears off your cheeks when you cry, I will tell you you're beautiful over and over and over even though I know so well that you'll deny it time and time again I promise That every word coming out of those soft luscious lips will be heard, never ignored, and when you feel like you're free falling down to the rock bottom of your life, I will be there, arms outstretched and ready to catch you, cradle you in my arms, happily walking you down the path of the journey you're destined to take Whether it means carrying you on my back like a backpack, on my shoulders like a toddler, or in my arms like a newborn baby I promise I will never live without you I will never let go of those bright blue eyes so detailed like the deep color of the ocean water, illuminated by a layered color palette of sunset The gleam of your soft, smooth dark brown hair that catches my eye every time will always be mine, the coconut smell so enticing I lick my lips and beg for more I promise To always follow along to the orchestrated love song your voice plays for me every time you speak To never stray from the beat of the drum your heart pounds every time you breathe or the wonderful wave of your laughter that bounces on air with every joke To never let any challenges come between us or keep us apart because I will always find my way back to you like a lost puppy looking for it's owner, a baby bird trying to find it's mother, or a turtle making its way to the sea You will stay a tattoo on my heart and a stained picture in my mind, never once leaving my thoughts, always in my arms I promise To think of you when my eyes are open and when they are closed, as the sun rises and as the sun falls, and until the day that I die, I will use every breath I have to whisper I love you I promise I do
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21
Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder You may now want to take out the recorder This world may label it as a weakness But I’m quite fond that it gives me a type of uniqueness Although my mind bounces around Like a bouncy ball all over town It sometimes allows me to be still When I find something that gives me a thrill Instead of giving me that medication Allow my mind to experience that sensation Of it’s ability to go full throttle top gear It may seem irrational and unclear But trust me the task assigned Will be completed from a mastermind
0
Apr 7, 2016
Apr 7, 2016 at 10:09 PM UTC
ADHD
I gotta say, you sure know how to pick 'em. I know that by now, you realize that I'm the furthest thing from perfect but for some reason you still saw something in me that made you want to spend the rest of your life with me. And to that again I say, you sure know how to pick 'em. There are few things i want you to know about me before you get too heavily involved. You see, I am a nurturer by nature. I am the caretaker to all and the kind heart that everyone turns to. So I apologize if some days I am lost under the weight of the world I put on my own shoulders by accepting the problems of those that asked and believe me, everybody asks. I'm sorry if this can crush me to the point where I disappear but all I ask is that you help me find my way back again. Because you are the lighthouse for my stormy mind. Another thing is that I can ask too much. I can lose myself in the problems of my own design and the problems designed by others and sometimes I will fall apart and not know how to put the pieces back together again. So I'm sorry for asking too much but I hope that you will learn patience and knowing to pick up the pieces, but let me put them back together. I am also one with what you'd call "flights of fancy." I may want to be a pastry chef one day and then a French teacher the other, I will go through weeks, and sometimes months, where I will be preoccupied with only one thing. Just know that no matter where my imagination takes me, where my interests may lead, I will always come home to you because being your wife is the one thing that I can never stop wanting to do. I'm sure you've already noticed how passionate I can be when I care about something. I will scream, cry, and cheer with everything in my being for the things that I believe in. Please don't laugh too much when I start crying over the death of a character in a book series or start screaming at the tv because the people talking are just so stupid and wrong and they need to know that they're wrong so I'm going to tell them even though they can't hear me... Just let me be, but also know when to tell me that I'm just being crazy. Because I know that I'm crazy, sometimes I just need a second opinion. On the topic of second opinions, oftentimes I value the words of others more than I value the words of myself. Know that with a few simple words you can even lift me up to the heavens or you can tear me down further than you ever knew was possible. My uncertainty in myself will always be a problem and so I apologize if I constantly ask if I did anything wrong or if I upset you because I'm terrified that someday I will and you will leave like all the rest. I just want you to hold me. Tell me you love me even if I don't believe you especially if I don't believe you. Be the husband I hope you will be and I will be the wife that I know I can be. Because even if it's hard, even if you get sick of the sight of me, even if the words that I say bounces off of you like water on a hot surface, know that I mean every word of "I love you" and I meant what I said when I told you "I do."
0
Dec 28, 2014
Dec 28, 2014 at 11:01 PM UTC
To My Future Husband
I gotta say, you sure know how to pick 'em. I know that by now, you realize that I'm the furthest thing from perfect but for some reason you still saw something in me that made you want to spend the rest of your life with me. And to that again I say, you sure know how to pick 'em. There are few things i want you to know about me before you get too heavily involved. You see, I am a nurturer by nature. I am the caretaker to all and the kind heart that everyone turns to. So I apologize if some days I am lost under the weight of the world I put on my own shoulders by accepting the problems of those that asked and believe me, everybody asks. I'm sorry if this can crush me to the point where I disappear but all I ask is that you help me find my way back again. Because you are the lighthouse for my stormy mind. Another thing is that I can ask too much. I can lose myself in the problems of my own design and the problems designed by others and sometimes I will fall apart and not know how to put the pieces back together again. So I'm sorry for asking too much but I hope that you will learn patience and knowing to pick up the pieces, but let me put them back together. I am also one with what you'd call "flights of fancy." I may want to be a pastry chef one day and then a French teacher the other, I will go through weeks, and sometimes months, where I will be preoccupied with only one thing. Just know that no matter where my imagination takes me, where my interests may lead, I will always come home to you because being your wife is the one thing that I can never stop wanting to do. I'm sure you've already noticed how passionate I can be when I care about something. I will scream, cry, and cheer with everything in my being for the things that I believe in. Please don't laugh too much when I start crying over the death of a character in a book series or start screaming at the tv because the people talking are just so stupid and wrong and they need to know that they're wrong so I'm going to tell them even though they can't hear me... Just let me be, but also know when to tell me that I'm just being crazy. Because I know that I'm crazy, sometimes I just need a second opinion. On the topic of second opinions, oftentimes I value the words of others more than I value the words of myself. Know that with a few simple words you can even lift me up to the heavens or you can tear me down further than you ever knew was possible. My uncertainty in myself will always be a problem and so I apologize if I constantly ask if I did anything wrong or if I upset you because I'm terrified that someday I will and you will leave like all the rest. I just want you to hold me. Tell me you love me even if I don't believe you especially if I don't believe you. Be the husband I hope you will be and I will be the wife that I know I can be. Because even if it's hard, even if you get sick of the sight of me, even if the words that I say bounces off of you like water on a hot surface, know that I mean every word of "I love you" and I meant what I said when I told you "I do."
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8
I notice the tiny pulse of frustration in the back of his neck I notice the way that he sighs and slumps over I notice how his elbows splay out so his face bobs lightly over his desk A buoy dancing over a wave I notice the way he glances at his friends before he answers I notice the way he shapes his mouth into a grin before he speaks I notice how his eyes squint a little when he laughs I notice how they dull when he doesn’t want to listen I notice how his shoulders hunch when refuses to hear I notice the boredom in the lines of his back as he considers I notice the way his leg jiggles as he bounces his foot lightly The ever-present dichotomy of professionalism fighting immaturity Of a thirst to learn, fighting against ignorance, justice calling I notice this inner battle of boyish nonchalance and masculine defensiveness I notice how his eyes dart lightly over his chosen comrades before he writes again I notice the way he presses his forehead into his hand As though he could pull ideas out And read his thoughts printed back on his palm I notice the consistent rubbing against his face with his fingers Phalanges to stimulate the thought process I notice the hesitation before his pen scratches the page Piercing the paper with words he must call his own I notice the claim of responsibility and the toll it takes on his physique I notice the fatigue of struggling to create To feel, to create, to feel, to feel I notice, throughout all the time I’ve been noticing him He has not noticed me once
0
Oct 24, 2014
Oct 24, 2014 at 3:30 PM UTC
On the Cremation of My Classmate
I notice the tiny pulse of frustration in the back of his neck I notice the way that he sighs and slumps over I notice how his elbows splay out so his face bobs lightly over his desk A buoy dancing over a wave I notice the way he glances at his friends before he answers I notice the way he shapes his mouth into a grin before he speaks I notice how his eyes squint a little when he laughs I notice how they dull when he doesn’t want to listen I notice how his shoulders hunch when refuses to hear I notice the boredom in the lines of his back as he considers I notice the way his leg jiggles as he bounces his foot lightly The ever-present dichotomy of professionalism fighting immaturity Of a thirst to learn, fighting against ignorance, justice calling I notice this inner battle of boyish nonchalance and masculine defensiveness I notice how his eyes dart lightly over his chosen comrades before he writes again I notice the way he presses his forehead into his hand As though he could pull ideas out And read his thoughts printed back on his palm I notice the consistent rubbing against his face with his fingers Phalanges to stimulate the thought process I notice the hesitation before his pen scratches the page Piercing the paper with words he must call his own I notice the claim of responsibility and the toll it takes on his physique I notice the fatigue of struggling to create To feel, to create, to feel, to feel I notice, throughout all the time I’ve been noticing him He has not noticed me once
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27
Scraggly curl hair bounces in the air wagging with whisky eyes breezy pleasing the eclectic electric hectic now mind like finding a papaya inside an oyster battery powered like a pomegranate passionfruit flower growing and glowing around my trinity heart with the noise of a sphere's galactic ****** Crystal Citrine Mountains provide water fountains of sunlight as so tye-dye t-shirt hip-cat hippos smokin' coconut shisha bathe in barrels of bourbon. Lion snakes spit words of worlds hurling nebulous timeline's spiraling and crashing and splashing baptism ripples together painting Pollack Splatters with the aroma of Byrd Jazz Jam on rye-whisky bread. Fractal Berries served by the Far Out Faerrie Ferryman Skeletan with bejeweled emerald eyes winks while I read in the reeds panting in pan-flutes while water rabbits scamper into clay enclaves to bathe in pinecone designed sand-tubs. The hieroglyphic phoenix twists and skip-scats neon green vinyl turning the wind inside out to x-ray flames of fireworks.
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Dec 6, 2013
Dec 6, 2013 at 8:01 PM UTC
Untitled Realm # 4-Triangle.7u
When it has been five days since anyone told you they loved you and no one has held your hand in four months and you cannot remember the last time you felt wanted, remember this. People aren't meant to say I love you. Those three words mean so many things but somehow they mean nothing and eight letters thrown together into a combination of lines and spaces is not an accurate representation of feelings. They say I love you in the way they smile when you laugh at their jokes and they say it in the way they shake their head when you make a bad pun and they say it with every text message in all-caps at two twenty-four in the morning because something incredible just happened and they had to let you know and they say it with every hug and high-five and punch in the arm and with the way your name bounces off their tongue like a child making poor judgement calls on a trampoline and they will not tell you happy birthday this year and they will take four hours to text you back because they got distracted and they will call you an ******* (because you are one, sometimes) and eat all your lunch without saying please or thank you and they will forget to tell you they love you when they say good night, because people are not meant to say I love you.
0
Apr 21, 2014
Apr 21, 2014 at 10:19 PM UTC
For Nick
With dusty wings and awkward flight Your tiny buffalo body bounces on the delicate glass surface. An exaggerated shadow announces your plight. Is it the beauty of the butterfly that spurs you. Why so frustrated; so persistent? Do you know of emotion? Maybe you do, and it is your own dark turmoil that draws you to the glass skirted flame.
0
Dec 16, 2014
Dec 16, 2014 at 7:54 PM UTC
-Moth-
Grandmother Willow said listen to your heart, you will understand but when it pounds all I want to do is run my heart says so many things one minute it's telling me to climb a tree as high as the branches let me the next it says hook line and sinker and when I'm with someone beautiful, it says nothing, it just flutters and pitter patters Mulan was always my favourite because she had her heart broken and still She Saved China all on her own my heart breaks like twigs and crumbles like dry stiff leaves in Autumn and my heart is also a rubber ball that bounces from one place to the next too rapidly, I forget where I am and where I just was a moment before I ended up wherever I ended up my heart is like ice and sometimes if you are the right temperature, it will melt for you my heart is aware of fallacy and sometimes if you try to coax it, everything I ever felt for you won't exist anymore a few months ago I was sitting at the back of a midnight bus in my hometown, with a hippie headband on, accompanied with braids, a long dress and moccasins of black suede when a drunk teenager pointed and hollered directly at my face, "you look like Pocahontas, how many John Smiths love you?" I don't get angry anymore I just get tired my heart goes to sleep for days and wakes up at the sudden gong of recognition in eye contact that lasts longer than just a few seconds; my heart awakens at sunsets, when I am sitting in a tree alone and it awakens each time I successfully skip a stone I've always thought highly of the two disney cartoons and it's not just because they can fire a harpoon it's something like embodying the female self-assurance, strength of the soul, embracing solitude like wind on a stroll heart strong from a softening, heart loved from singing just for singing heart open like eye contact that lasts longer than just a few seconds
0
Feb 17, 2014
Feb 17, 2014 at 3:33 AM UTC
pocahontas & mulan
Grandmother Willow said listen to your heart, you will understand but when it pounds all I want to do is run my heart says so many things one minute it's telling me to climb a tree as high as the branches let me the next it says hook line and sinker and when I'm with someone beautiful, it says nothing, it just flutters and pitter patters Mulan was always my favourite because she had her heart broken and still She Saved China all on her own my heart breaks like twigs and crumbles like dry stiff leaves in Autumn and my heart is also a rubber ball that bounces from one place to the next too rapidly, I forget where I am and where I just was a moment before I ended up wherever I ended up my heart is like ice and sometimes if you are the right temperature, it will melt for you my heart is aware of fallacy and sometimes if you try to coax it, everything I ever felt for you won't exist anymore a few months ago I was sitting at the back of a midnight bus in my hometown, with a hippie headband on, accompanied with braids, a long dress and moccasins of black suede when a drunk teenager pointed and hollered directly at my face, "you look like Pocahontas, how many John Smiths love you?" I don't get angry anymore I just get tired my heart goes to sleep for days and wakes up at the sudden gong of recognition in eye contact that lasts longer than just a few seconds; my heart awakens at sunsets, when I am sitting in a tree alone and it awakens each time I successfully skip a stone I've always thought highly of the two disney cartoons and it's not just because they can fire a harpoon it's something like embodying the female self-assurance, strength of the soul, embracing solitude like wind on a stroll heart strong from a softening, heart loved from singing just for singing heart open like eye contact that lasts longer than just a few seconds
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Her ageless beauty often greets me along with the time. I cannot rhyme a song on her beauty, For it's just a fine line that enhances beauty. Beauty knows no bound to bounce, For its just her beauty so profound. Her beauty did not fade with the time. It's the wingless beauty that ever chime. Her beauty swims to depth of ocean, Her knowledge is deep as good as vast ocean. Her humility ever shines like golden rays of sun Her countless hair so shining bounces with the time. Her ageless beauty often greets me along with the time. Her melodious voice so captivating ever That soothes ones heart and soul And light a lamp on ones heart so bright. Her glowing face dwells in ones heart so lovingly Each lines on her face tells stories of untold time. Her tears speaks in silence of love and pain But she spells words of only love and peace Her eyes are deep as good as ocean blue Even if one sink on it cannot unfold her mysteries untold. Her Beauty is merged with the past, present and future. Well, Its all how I look upon her age and time. Every age has its beauty defined. Ageless beauty remains glowing ever, along with the time. She is a lady of mysterious character. With a friendly smile she wins the heart of others. Beauty of soul is ageless and priceless. It remains the same right from birth till death. Beauty of soul is forever young and greener. In fact beauty of soul is priceless ever. Her ageless beauty often greets me well with the time. Geetha Jayakumar ©ALL RIGHTS RESERVED BY GEETHA JAYAKUMAR 2014 © 2014.
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Jan 20, 2015
Jan 20, 2015 at 12:54 PM UTC
Her Ageless Beauty!
Her ageless beauty often greets me along with the time. I cannot rhyme a song on her beauty, For it's just a fine line that enhances beauty. Beauty knows no bound to bounce, For its just her beauty so profound. Her beauty did not fade with the time. It's the wingless beauty that ever chime. Her beauty swims to depth of ocean, Her knowledge is deep as good as vast ocean. Her humility ever shines like golden rays of sun Her countless hair so shining bounces with the time. Her ageless beauty often greets me along with the time. Her melodious voice so captivating ever That soothes ones heart and soul And light a lamp on ones heart so bright. Her glowing face dwells in ones heart so lovingly Each lines on her face tells stories of untold time. Her tears speaks in silence of love and pain But she spells words of only love and peace Her eyes are deep as good as ocean blue Even if one sink on it cannot unfold her mysteries untold. Her Beauty is merged with the past, present and future. Well, Its all how I look upon her age and time. Every age has its beauty defined. Ageless beauty remains glowing ever, along with the time. She is a lady of mysterious character. With a friendly smile she wins the heart of others. Beauty of soul is ageless and priceless. It remains the same right from birth till death. Beauty of soul is forever young and greener. In fact beauty of soul is priceless ever. Her ageless beauty often greets me well with the time. Geetha Jayakumar ©ALL RIGHTS RESERVED BY GEETHA JAYAKUMAR 2014 © 2014.
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Into the bubbling blue bath of my bliss my body breaks free of all bounds; enchanted melodies cavort across my tongue, unchained continents of merriment. Shooting stars; cool satisfaction coats me completely. I have lost all curiosity for torture technique, while this melody bounces across the cosmos. My imperfect lovely: Perfectly fractured, all my shattered pieces fit your holes, and even now, I glue pieces of you into the slots they fit. A singular petal glistening with dew, Deep crimsom; long stemmed tulip. Black eyes, its stamen. Shedded insight, I lowered my body before you, as offering. How will you devour this dream of desire? It is a feast to be consumed, in small bites, and copious servings of seconds. Do not allow this flower to fade, it may save you from yourself. Blessings bestowed before bedtime often fade away by dawn, give thanks for the present, draw strength from the past, take heart, what is meant to be will always last... in the end.
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Sep 14, 2012
Sep 14, 2012 at 12:20 PM UTC
Lost Pages
Sun bounces off leaves, hopping from branch to branch, reflecting across the whole world. Flowers bloom - red, blue, and green, sending succulent scents to you and to me. This soft breeze floating from the bay blows all my troubles away. Book in lap, Coffee in hand, Please understand - if I always felt this way, life would walk with a much sweeter sway.
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Jun 2, 2018
Jun 2, 2018 at 6:04 PM UTC
Blumen
Sleep like when quiet Monopolized your ears Except maybe a ting An occasional ting Of a wind chime Sleep like when diligence Granted you rest From your day of completions You were so thorough and Always on time Sleep safe With the noises and clatter Of all you hold dear Knowing they are close Sleep like when exhaustion Squeezed the last lucid bit out Made you pay for your excess With a punishment Kinder than most Sleep with innocence Not only in the night But when dust swims across The warm, thick daylight Sleep in transit While the bright yellow dash Unzips dark highways And your warm forehead Bounces on the cold window Sleep like the way It takes me now Lords over all You ever become
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Aug 24, 2014
Aug 24, 2014 at 8:44 PM UTC
Sleep