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"bove" poems
#*Your hair stills heart's rhythmic meter   For this I wish forever Strands spun with goddess gossamer;   softer than touch of mother Your eyes dazzle with no glitter   For this I stare o're yonder Locking jewels with coins of others;   Leaves throbbing chests emptier Your form flows as gentle rivers   For this I grudge past swimmers Glory bequeathed to the winner;   drown will the losing suitors Your voice humbles angel choirs   For this I listen eager Songs molding seraphs from satyrs;   in harmony with nature Your being stirs wildfire   For this I bear the pleasure Ethereal flames dance together;   fueled by spiritual tethers You are my love light of summer   For this I waded winter Glowing 'bove, spring was made greener;   blooming nascent desire*#
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Jul 27, 2018
Jul 27, 2018 at 5:29 PM UTC
To My New Love
#*You are my love light of summer.   For this I wade through winter. Glowing 'bove, the trees are greener;   blooming nascent desire* of which I never knew I'd need   let alone make a heart bleed girl, you got me on both my knees   praying you'll also need me, too, to finally be complete   or otherwise reach life's peak. *Your hair stills heart's rhythmic meter.   For this I wish forever. Strands spun with goddess gossamer;   softer than touch of mother* of which I never knew I'd need   let alone cause ex's envy girl, you got her so **** ******   she blames you as much as me, too, as love for you made her weep   and revealed her love is cheap *Your voice humbles angel choirs.   For this I listen eager. Songs that shift the course of rivers;   in harmony with nature* of which I never knew I'd need   let alone so romantically girl, you got me frantically   writing you some poetry, too, and I hope you now can see   that maybe I'm also sweet *Your soul ignites wildfire.   For this I bear the pleasure. Ethereal flames dance together;   fueled by spiritual tethers*      of which I never knew I'd need   let alone spark fantasies girl, you got me crying, "please, please!"   that you never take the lead, too, cause this would be a done deed   if you wanted it to be.#
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Jul 27, 2018
Jul 27, 2018 at 2:19 PM UTC
To Beautiful: From Desperate
you can wear your cap twisted sideways sag your pants down to your knees ride a pachyderm or a mule that brays be whatever kind of fool you please sing love songs in the rose garden or complain how the dollar done fell knowing qadafi, hussein, and bin laden have all been dispatched to hell you can rant and rave about raw deals you can raise your snout and sashay about or he-haw and buck, kick up your heels or vote for more hope or to kick da *** out you can lean to the left or to the right weighing the pros and cons and hype but you can't stay out of this fight and claim you're just not the type to freely elect their governments and laws evers, walesa, mandela, and susan b lived and died for just such a cause to see the people's voices set free but if you just call it mumbo jumbo and aloofly let this moment pass we all may be led by Dumbo or maybe that other ******* what percentage do you claim? forty-seven, one, or ninety-nine? tea party? occupier? some other name? are you just spouting a party line? all our blood runs red 'bove us all the sky is blue and no matter what is said there's one thing we all should do hadn't you better cast a vote? against the ones who vote aginst you? i think you'd really better vote ... it's the least but the best thing you can do. doug curry 10/24/2012
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Nov 1, 2012
Nov 1, 2012 at 12:43 PM UTC
you'd better vote
my pen i write things with care my pen has many things to share many ideas describing my intentions writing my wholesome conclusions my words flow as the grass grows my feelings put down makes my imagination become sound words fall as my mind spins through a crystal ball all free writing for me going way a bove the trees my words are everlasting.............
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May 11, 2010
May 11, 2010 at 5:19 PM UTC
my pen
Gunmetal Christmas socks pulled past the calf like go-getter high school girls "rocking" rainbow ******** below the belt loops. I never went a day without seeing short shorts and socks replacing pant legs with a gap at the knee to breathe. Downplay X-mas with black jeans thinning 'bove the knees. I guess it's payback for all the surly Santas paid per nervous child lapdance that got ******* out of $1.50 because I walked away. For all the St. Nicks breathing pressurized bourbon on little kids' wishlists. Thread through a burgundy belt frayed by the buckle teeth. And I'm sure this is really burgundy, probably the only burgundy I never questioned much, unless the manufacturer's lying to me. Unless it's really a flexible case for wild circuits and tiny open mics in bars going on 'round the clock. Not just Tuesdays. Fiber optics around my waist transmitting telephone transmissions and cybernetic **** monitoring my hips and what my **** does. And my thoughts; they're ******* taking my thoughts. Precious poetry lines lost to the scarcity of pens in my car, when I'll shave next, whether or not I want a burr grinder, if I'll break glasses at work and have to drink the glitters like iced tea from the hardwood floor. Maybe I'll cut my gums. Maybe my tongue'll become a chandelier butterfly and carry me to Coudersport or Elmira or Nowhere to watch pregnant teenagers push flat-tire shopping carts heroin-shaking in the newborn section. Their babies are spitting up Gerber plans Mom has never considered. Baby's just a rock rolling down the birth canal that may someday end up a boulder in a state park.
0
Dec 31, 2014
Dec 31, 2014 at 4:18 PM UTC
Chandelier Butterfly
Gunmetal Christmas socks pulled past the calf like go-getter high school girls "rocking" rainbow ******** below the belt loops. I never went a day without seeing short shorts and socks replacing pant legs with a gap at the knee to breathe. Downplay X-mas with black jeans thinning 'bove the knees. I guess it's payback for all the surly Santas paid per nervous child lapdance that got ******* out of $1.50 because I walked away. For all the St. Nicks breathing pressurized bourbon on little kids' wishlists. Thread through a burgundy belt frayed by the buckle teeth. And I'm sure this is really burgundy, probably the only burgundy I never questioned much, unless the manufacturer's lying to me. Unless it's really a flexible case for wild circuits and tiny open mics in bars going on 'round the clock. Not just Tuesdays. Fiber optics around my waist transmitting telephone transmissions and cybernetic **** monitoring my hips and what my **** does. And my thoughts; they're ******* taking my thoughts. Precious poetry lines lost to the scarcity of pens in my car, when I'll shave next, whether or not I want a burr grinder, if I'll break glasses at work and have to drink the glitters like iced tea from the hardwood floor. Maybe I'll cut my gums. Maybe my tongue'll become a chandelier butterfly and carry me to Coudersport or Elmira or Nowhere to watch pregnant teenagers push flat-tire shopping carts heroin-shaking in the newborn section. Their babies are spitting up Gerber plans Mom has never considered. Baby's just a rock rolling down the birth canal that may someday end up a boulder in a state park.
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39
Wanted to get drunk today. WANTED TO WRITE TEN POEMS. None of this happened, but the postman brought letters. I opened them. Skin felt absent on the occipital lobe. Where amber, silica, sconce, crackle, glass exploded. Lifted pillow 'bove my head. Gravity took its power. Hold, sand shard dust and vase piece, in my bed. Wanted to sit in the park. WANTED TO MAKE TEN ******* POEMS. Needed a six foot tall model by my side, in the windy park in the sunlight. Children needed to dance around. Wanted to see them puke up happiness. On swingsets/marygorounds. Wanted to be their fathers. WANTED TO BEAT UP THEIR FATHERS POEMS. Wanted to the cops to catch me. Slaughter pigs, drink their blood. Wanted lost in wanting. WANTED TO BE BETWEEN HER LONG SOOTHING POEMS. Wanted to clutch pretty. Needed something like love... or like drunk. Needed to buy a forty today. NEEDED TO COUGH UP WORD THROAT. 80 will do. If you have the proof This didn’t happen. Instead, I Sat Inside And Choked On My Own Enunciated Emaciated Words. The poems never come out right anyways.
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Mar 24, 2013
Mar 24, 2013 at 9:41 PM UTC
What Happened on my Brain's Projector Screen
I look out the golden window to see the grasslands full fleshed and full breasted ripe trees bearing oversaturated fruit O yes and perhaps It is the fruit beholding the shine and plump perfection that looks of Grand artifice O apples so crimson I could barely touch it and the rich roots and Ra hangin'a'bove, it is a delightful Saci's-cap-red and each apple seems to be aligned in various patterns of crisscrossing and interconnection, bordering on random but almost calculated I look down at the breakfast table I am seated in capped with Irish breakfasts for all O It is the bare Nature herself and her youthful manifestation, strong and deep into the ground, it makes me feel no turning back, no regret from the small passionate days of pleasure, feeling that beautiful girl Marie, like Nature herself toned to the rivers and mystifying like from the clouds to the depths and our lips jamming brushing feeling against mine O I felt guilty I felt I was taking all the sound and the fury for myself I was eating ll the fruits in the garden, fearing a mistake, being caught, not giving chances and only wishing to please my immediate soul; as the great Wilde said, "I confined myself so exclusively to the trees of what seemed to me the sun-lit side of the garden, and shunned the other side for its shadow and its gloom." but yet I feel between us a growing, a yearning that is blessed and twisted; graft of Love, starting roots of naked Love sweet connection, Big Time Sensuality; buds in our hearts--the ****** soil has been sown yes O this new Spring is coming and a rite of passage passing finally we have made it past restriction and now a new Spring has finally come! the foggy marches of April lose track and pace, and my exuberance comes swiftly but my prayers and wishes for a beautiful quiet life come with the best intentions of grace; hopefully, surely, wonderfully. Dieu en aura plus tost de vous mercis.
0
Aug 25, 2010
Aug 25, 2010 at 7:42 PM UTC
Precursor to A Very Puzzling Intake
I look out the golden window to see the grasslands full fleshed and full breasted ripe trees bearing oversaturated fruit O yes and perhaps It is the fruit beholding the shine and plump perfection that looks of Grand artifice O apples so crimson I could barely touch it and the rich roots and Ra hangin'a'bove, it is a delightful Saci's-cap-red and each apple seems to be aligned in various patterns of crisscrossing and interconnection, bordering on random but almost calculated I look down at the breakfast table I am seated in capped with Irish breakfasts for all O It is the bare Nature herself and her youthful manifestation, strong and deep into the ground, it makes me feel no turning back, no regret from the small passionate days of pleasure, feeling that beautiful girl Marie, like Nature herself toned to the rivers and mystifying like from the clouds to the depths and our lips jamming brushing feeling against mine O I felt guilty I felt I was taking all the sound and the fury for myself I was eating ll the fruits in the garden, fearing a mistake, being caught, not giving chances and only wishing to please my immediate soul; as the great Wilde said, "I confined myself so exclusively to the trees of what seemed to me the sun-lit side of the garden, and shunned the other side for its shadow and its gloom." but yet I feel between us a growing, a yearning that is blessed and twisted; graft of Love, starting roots of naked Love sweet connection, Big Time Sensuality; buds in our hearts--the ****** soil has been sown yes O this new Spring is coming and a rite of passage passing finally we have made it past restriction and now a new Spring has finally come! the foggy marches of April lose track and pace, and my exuberance comes swiftly but my prayers and wishes for a beautiful quiet life come with the best intentions of grace; hopefully, surely, wonderfully. Dieu en aura plus tost de vous mercis.
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1
Just, thought I, to escape a while, Mundane light in the desk at home On these splintered, black-tar roads Marching, festooned in leaf and in rock Snapping and scattering from underfoot. My heavy breaths are this odd meter In-out, in-out on this pavement slap The knees are strained, down, the stream Of rheumy little beads—lines! (I sense Conception of a rare cadence In which earth finds its synchrony). ‘Round the walls of rustic homes and will To this walking gallery of the ‘ville Ancient oaks, they lift their head and grin To a sky beyond the storm, what with plumes Unearthly fronds, dark with salmon painted on Softened, its oil, burnt carnal black That loose-end feeling holding it back. Furrowed brow, I run with now Sweet winds and pirouette The dancers go amidst the leaves Hold Hell high ‘bove white hands Turned in deference and o,’ Arbor! Your threshold live and saturnine Entire eternities unfold now, silk scarf on Goddess Eve, her halo proud Gold embraced by Pink and now She strides in by the choral geese Flown to sing her godhead to sleep Her rest had blest pain to leave me now At those gates loud, effervescent Shimmering, shimmering In calm disbelief And on And on. Back at the source, that in-between Bare **** of the Fasick bridge Magmatic pallets, on faces two One shared tear drop, a cosmic breadth. I saw from there the garden of stone Lonely tombs in blamy play Fruits sprung in those past lives. I shared their rest for moment still And back it goes, the nameless past Where they exists as dreams, beside me. Two sides, met then so diverged I saw their peace where night emerged Where pink embraced the dark Went to rest on low horizons. The world closed its lips and lids Its eyes and loving heart Bathed, it all, in low florescence And lullaby of cicadas.
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Sep 10, 2014
Sep 10, 2014 at 11:07 PM UTC
Dusk at Fasick Bridge
Just, thought I, to escape a while, Mundane light in the desk at home On these splintered, black-tar roads Marching, festooned in leaf and in rock Snapping and scattering from underfoot. My heavy breaths are this odd meter In-out, in-out on this pavement slap The knees are strained, down, the stream Of rheumy little beads—lines! (I sense Conception of a rare cadence In which earth finds its synchrony). ‘Round the walls of rustic homes and will To this walking gallery of the ‘ville Ancient oaks, they lift their head and grin To a sky beyond the storm, what with plumes Unearthly fronds, dark with salmon painted on Softened, its oil, burnt carnal black That loose-end feeling holding it back. Furrowed brow, I run with now Sweet winds and pirouette The dancers go amidst the leaves Hold Hell high ‘bove white hands Turned in deference and o,’ Arbor! Your threshold live and saturnine Entire eternities unfold now, silk scarf on Goddess Eve, her halo proud Gold embraced by Pink and now She strides in by the choral geese Flown to sing her godhead to sleep Her rest had blest pain to leave me now At those gates loud, effervescent Shimmering, shimmering In calm disbelief And on And on. Back at the source, that in-between Bare **** of the Fasick bridge Magmatic pallets, on faces two One shared tear drop, a cosmic breadth. I saw from there the garden of stone Lonely tombs in blamy play Fruits sprung in those past lives. I shared their rest for moment still And back it goes, the nameless past Where they exists as dreams, beside me. Two sides, met then so diverged I saw their peace where night emerged Where pink embraced the dark Went to rest on low horizons. The world closed its lips and lids Its eyes and loving heart Bathed, it all, in low florescence And lullaby of cicadas.
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53
GERONIMO wherefore are thou now? what scaffold have you fallen                                                        from & stared w/milk-pale eyes                                  at Reverend Cacey (who stands murmuring   ,                        4 pound golden crucifix in out stretched hands ? ) (the world is very scared o   f      you..) (why else would                                ol' blood   hound Joe Horn                  be  put  on  yr  trail  ? )                                                                raise thy sharps rifle 'bove yr head & eat out                                                                                                                    th'sun !!                  (i declare you are a mountain poet.)
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Feb 26, 2012
Feb 26, 2012 at 10:50 AM UTC
GERONIMO
For these bonded ties, our lifelines of love. Keeping us 'float 'bove the troubled waters. Our bridge we crossed together for each other. In separating truly the oceans are skies. No long am I floating among the stars but falling and drowning in this sloshing heir. It seems my kingdom come has fallen in the future. A future different than we live now My course once steady as I tagged along with you now goes with the flow unknown to me. The pattern of these stars foreign to me. My eyes deceived, blinded to sea. Sealed my fate to be, Unable to follow where you may go. Lest you deny me so. No waves to tell me where your waters flow. This stagnant water reeking of the innocent blood. Never leaving. The wind beneath my bloodied sail, has left me 'neath it's silent veil. No longer does it sing your lullaby to me. All that's left is the ghostly lull. A bye.
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Aug 5, 2014
Aug 5, 2014 at 10:33 PM UTC
{A Pirate Poet's Speculations On Ever Treasured Lamentations}
R adiantly   A bove I n          N othing B ut      O ther         W orlds.             S queezed           O range     F ills A         N iche.                O bsequios                T houghts            H inder                        E xtraordinary            R ealms.            C aught      O n            L imits    O f           R eality.
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Feb 19, 2017
Feb 19, 2017 at 6:40 AM UTC
Rainbows of Another Color
Dragon awake ye, rise and ye may find that dawn has had it's day, and night it lies behind morning comes again and with it brings the sun reminding us of flames, remembering we've done all it takes to bank the ash, and to see our flames won one day say we as we walk here in this wasted wood lumber past the trees, see that though it's dark it's good keep walking through and pass a pond that's feeding from a stream fresh water midst the tangled trees - like brotherhood it seems remember that though lone we walk - true in a sense or way still with brothers by our side stand we loyal to this day through many wars and battles fought and many won or lost this bond 'bove blood has grown by bound, but at no little cost the price we pay is loyalty and always standing firm passing on wise words we've heard and lessons that we've learned call each other on our bluffs and blindnesses, even on our weaks stand up and with our armored hide, shield each other's breaks that my strong may be your weak and your strong become mine that together, we like dragons stride, armored every side It is together we will war the world and win defeating every enemy that raise or rise against but battle foam may eager fly from our every scale and fiery, painful, brutal be our battle against hell but raise we with our talons true and truth held in our gaze It is a noble war and one, that we chose to wage
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Apr 10, 2012
Apr 10, 2012 at 2:56 PM UTC
Dragon, awake ye!
Search in the forest; you’ll find me there Letting the trees Speak my apologies For those I could not, would not dare. Along, along the broken trail A single line No one’s but mine Familiar silence, mem’ries glint Though that I have cast judgment To never speak to you again I would still lay you in the ferns And hold, in mine, your lovely hand But the trees speak my apologies Behind the timbers of my teeth. There you stand in the cast light of ease Eden lapping at your ankles Winged by thrilled and lucky leaves Blind in light, your darkest mien ‘bove where I’ve fallen, disgraced, mean In the ‘brace of ferns between You see me as I am Cloud-watching and quiet, Needing to say more But shame, shame is defiant. Search in the forest; I won’t be there For you are in the ferns, the breath of tress A concluded jawline bitten down Wayfarer of the broken road and scene Turning an ear from the trees Rest I and tight lips Trodden away as they speak my apologies.
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Sep 10, 2014
Sep 10, 2014 at 11:10 PM UTC
Verdant Verse and Apology
some words go US Eng, some go UK Eng so inside the word-dividing "[ ]" is the chosen sound KIND OF A WA[ɔ]LKING... EMITTER OF ENDORPHINS INNER-LIGHT-EVOKING VAU[ɔ]LT WITH A FORMi̲DABLY ENORMOUS INFINITELY RISING RESERVE OF THRILLINGLY PO[ɑ]SITIVE EMOTIONS (wa[ɒ]nt some?) THE EPITOME OF DELIGHT & ENJOYMENT —————————————————————————— strolling through some au[ɔ]tumn spo[ɑ]ts sa[ɔ]w some gyals being dolorous stole up o[ɒ]n 'em once I'm close enough I'm exploding with that mind-blowing stuff I've noted 'bove ba[ɔ]wling "lit morning, quit mourning" so ear-splittingly like my ***** just go[ɑ]t torn apart they, seemed to me, were in total sho[ɑ]ck unloading, giving 'em a[ɔ]ll I've go[ɑ]t which got 'em a little overpa[ɑ]cked each of 'em got a lethal cor atta[ɑ]ck overdosed, they dro[ɑ]pped on the ground like ja[ɔ]ws of cha[ɑ]ps at the sight of girls with bo[ɑ]ds that are smoking ho[ɑ]t —————————————————————————— ALSO, TRULY HOPEFUL BORN WITH LO[ɑ]TS OF OFFERS OF EMPLOYMENT IN TERMS OF MOVING FORWARD THE MOTION'S NOTHING LESS THAN HURTLING ALWAYS, EVERY MOMENT MAINTAIN THE FIRST PLACE IN A LIST OF POTENTIAL BOYFRIENDS FOR GIRLS THAT ARE INDECENTLY GORGEOUS AND UNBELIEVABLY JOYOUS lyrically, these word-co[ɑ]mbs come close to what a ***** does performing a ******* [once was told that I have 0 SELF-IRONY]
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Feb 20, 2020
Feb 20, 2020 at 5:03 AM UTC
"Campaign Speech" influenced rhyming [remade into another poem]
Oh Poor soul Never seen the world Only from a hole Controlled from birth As the Earth began to roll Perspective of the world From you they stole As time goes by Your innocence is broken Piece by piece Kiss by kiss And your knowledge rises Much like yeast As we wait for the day You unleash your beast And then we feast Enchained in the depth of illusion Being fed lies and confusion And when delusion Takes over Its all gone Cause' bove you the truth will hover I see you You and your sealed hole You nd your controlled soul I said I see you You and your puppy eyes Eating these fluffy lies Yeah I heard her cries But her attitude is what I despise I would Release you from your prison But you'd change Like the season Without giving me a reason Your day will come Blood darkened deep red Like crimson Grow old young one Grow old your child See it for yourself Whether hot or mild Keep exploring The cool and wild Curiosity in your brain Like papers It piled
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Nov 4, 2013
Nov 4, 2013 at 10:06 AM UTC
Innocent/Virgin
Just Simple, Under the Blue skies. Laughing with friends, Indeed life is silly and beautiful, Every year,months,days,hours and minutes. Living in a place I can't call my own, United with love for nature and life, Can't ask for more. Hanging in a cliff while watching city lights, Above the tree singing my favorite song, Nothing i can ask for more. And all I want is you.
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Feb 19, 2014
Feb 19, 2014 at 8:12 AM UTC
My Life Is
Al rio sottile, di tra vaghe brume, guarda il bove, coi grandi occhi: nel piano che fugge, a un mare sempre più lontano migrano l'acque d'un ceruleo fiume; ingigantisce agli occhi suoi, nel lume pulverulento, il salice e l'ontano; svaria su l'erbe un gregge a mano a mano, e par la mandra dell'antico nume: ampie ali aprono imagini grifagne nell'aria; vanno tacite chimere, simili a nubi, per il ciel profondo; Il sole immenso, dietro le montagne cala, altissime: crescono già, nere, l'ombre più grandi d'un più grande mondo.
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657
Il bove
A dandelion’s wish floats in the breeze, Dancing through sunlight and soft summer air, Whispering tales of the places it’ll be, Carried by winds that wander with care. Upon a breath, it twirls in the light, Sailing ‘bove meadows, o’er mountains so wide, A fragile traveler in the still of the night, Dreaming of lands where its dreams may reside. It sways with the rhythm of skies so vast, A tiny spark in the world’s grand design, Ever fleeting, it drifts from the past, Seeking a future where roots can entwine. A moment it lingers, a sigh in the air, Then onward it sails, with no time to stay, Lost in the journey, in a whisper so fair, The seed in the wind, forever astray.
0
Mar 1, 2025
Mar 1, 2025 at 3:00 PM UTC
The Flight of A Wish
Gather ye ‘round, fellow children of sadness For madness and misery beckon once more Imploring us all just to fall for a moment Back into the days and the ways of before If only to suffer aloud for a moment Outside of the hell of concealing inside The thoughts and emotions, such poisonous potions, That unwanted tragedies force us to hide For life can’t be lived by the dead and the dying When such living hell remains buried inside Infections of heart and of mind and of soul Manifesting and nesting within our scarred hides While outside, the world, with its misunderstandings Continues to label, to point, and to stare Unaware of the battles we’re losing inside At a loss for compassion, refusing to care So they dance on the coffins we've buried ‘bove ground And they taunt and they tease and continue to hate They pry up the bones of our failures and losses Parading our ghosts and contempting our fates Until, as before, we rise up from the ashes As hell long since buried returns from the grave And lives begin fading amidst the parading… No longer the ghosts of regret, but the grave The broken and tortured now breaking and torturing Souls that seem so much more lost than our own As the acts of our vengeance condemn more than save us Another regret in the hell we call home As the tangled and twisted procession continues For the literal and the emotional grave We bury our dead like we bury our feelings And in the end, none of us ever is saved We all are consumed and in some way exhumed Though the dead and the dying are different, you see For the dead are the ones somehow free of this tomb While the dying continue to roam endlessly
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Apr 23, 2014
Apr 23, 2014 at 3:02 PM UTC
The Dead and the Dying
Gather ye ‘round, fellow children of sadness For madness and misery beckon once more Imploring us all just to fall for a moment Back into the days and the ways of before If only to suffer aloud for a moment Outside of the hell of concealing inside The thoughts and emotions, such poisonous potions, That unwanted tragedies force us to hide For life can’t be lived by the dead and the dying When such living hell remains buried inside Infections of heart and of mind and of soul Manifesting and nesting within our scarred hides While outside, the world, with its misunderstandings Continues to label, to point, and to stare Unaware of the battles we’re losing inside At a loss for compassion, refusing to care So they dance on the coffins we've buried ‘bove ground And they taunt and they tease and continue to hate They pry up the bones of our failures and losses Parading our ghosts and contempting our fates Until, as before, we rise up from the ashes As hell long since buried returns from the grave And lives begin fading amidst the parading… No longer the ghosts of regret, but the grave The broken and tortured now breaking and torturing Souls that seem so much more lost than our own As the acts of our vengeance condemn more than save us Another regret in the hell we call home As the tangled and twisted procession continues For the literal and the emotional grave We bury our dead like we bury our feelings And in the end, none of us ever is saved We all are consumed and in some way exhumed Though the dead and the dying are different, you see For the dead are the ones somehow free of this tomb While the dying continue to roam endlessly
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36
October 30th Words, word, and the futility of such Or true appeal in sectioned rhymes of madness Like Beethoven composing Blade Runner In the midst of blue helicopter gunners Spectator chemicals eviscerate my brain Educationally desensitized to what I'm trained To do, or to scream in pools of rubidium And call back to poems of delirium In my shelter, so deep in my room White peroxide liquid, mangled and groomed My heart is aqueous, love I'm shaped by the "god-like" lingerin' 'bove Net equation and sums enter my ear Therefore finding themselves on paper peers Lectures or cantankerous, droning drawls They taste like a slave's righteous crawl Balance life like a panther and its prey With elegant trickles remarking on the day And unconcievable drawings, moving fro' The Worldwill pukes to what I sow There is no question, this isn't one Verses are futile under the sun But rhyme is priority, thus authority Digestible, like wood covered in yellow sugar And blue butter, counting with a Cockney clock Arrogant as he is, he smiled at her Tick tock, and the flock is shocked Petty Betty blessed her daughter Loved her well 'till the police caught her Thought-streams, and the working of the mind Like the asymmetric butterflies of the Sistine Chapel        Oh, believe me! That's how my brain grinds Where the world can equate to an apple Paper on a finger, vice versa, so long As I can keep track of Sing's King Kong Pink-headed jubilee in old Manila Killing time violently on the stairs Remember the words of mouths of vanilla And be sure to never stare I talk to myself and tell myself nothing Soon, over the morn', I will be nothing
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Oct 31, 2017
Oct 31, 2017 at 12:13 PM UTC
Arrleihsyuz
October 30th Words, word, and the futility of such Or true appeal in sectioned rhymes of madness Like Beethoven composing Blade Runner In the midst of blue helicopter gunners Spectator chemicals eviscerate my brain Educationally desensitized to what I'm trained To do, or to scream in pools of rubidium And call back to poems of delirium In my shelter, so deep in my room White peroxide liquid, mangled and groomed My heart is aqueous, love I'm shaped by the "god-like" lingerin' 'bove Net equation and sums enter my ear Therefore finding themselves on paper peers Lectures or cantankerous, droning drawls They taste like a slave's righteous crawl Balance life like a panther and its prey With elegant trickles remarking on the day And unconcievable drawings, moving fro' The Worldwill pukes to what I sow There is no question, this isn't one Verses are futile under the sun But rhyme is priority, thus authority Digestible, like wood covered in yellow sugar And blue butter, counting with a Cockney clock Arrogant as he is, he smiled at her Tick tock, and the flock is shocked Petty Betty blessed her daughter Loved her well 'till the police caught her Thought-streams, and the working of the mind Like the asymmetric butterflies of the Sistine Chapel        Oh, believe me! That's how my brain grinds Where the world can equate to an apple Paper on a finger, vice versa, so long As I can keep track of Sing's King Kong Pink-headed jubilee in old Manila Killing time violently on the stairs Remember the words of mouths of vanilla And be sure to never stare I talk to myself and tell myself nothing Soon, over the morn', I will be nothing
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42
When Sol's fury reigned upon olden folk, And the day helped,but their easy arrest, Day's ***** on heavenly order broke, So,the earthlings fatal crawled on soil blest. Workmen,weavers,craftsmen,not one of name, Flexed their sinews to please the monarch's eye, The poor dwelled under an eternal flame, When heavens did in kingly castles lie. The sharpest edge and the heaviest stone, 'Bove men's head hung,under the kingly throne.
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May 29, 2017
May 29, 2017 at 2:49 PM UTC
Under the kingly throne
(A)bove the church were golden bells. (N)ext to it was the finest sight, a hunch-back belle. (N)ested in a tower of cobwebs and dusty shelves. (E)xcept no one new that she was a princess walking among our common selves. (C)arved within her heart is a beauty without comparison. (U)nsuspectingly she can bust you out and then throw you to a jail garison. (R)eclaimed by her will was a kingdom of magic. (T)hat three young lads fought for her though always arguing about logic. (I)n her eyes you can see a bright red glow. (S)hining like blood red rubies in a cave under six feet of snow. (S)ilence is sought out whenever she starts to sing. (M)ajestic is her voice but can give you an alarming sting. (I)n her greatest moments she sings with an enormous chorale. (T)he kind of crowd that boosts her morale. (H)old your breath for a mesmerizing musical royale.
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Oct 19, 2018
Oct 19, 2018 at 7:18 AM UTC
BUY BUST
Fancies calcify in waiting, under floodlights, Seconds crawl, while the ancient belfry crumbles, crack a cold one, watch the fall. A Jiffy and a Nothing-flat argue ‘round their fell remains. Jiffy visions stories flying, high- rises surging from the flames. A motley crew of Moments, fitted blind to rhapsodize, scaffold fickle aspirations. “Venture higher!” Jiffy cries. Cresting ‘bove the clouds ol’ Jiffy pipes a story more ‘til that whisk of wiser wheezing, downs the tower, floor-by-floor Collapsing ‘to a shower, Moments dance in reckless spiral, share the balmy hands of vision, kiss the lips of sweet denial. Delusions topple in a breath under floodlights, Seconds crawl, while the idle spire shatters. Crack a cold one. Watch the fall.
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Nov 10, 2019
Nov 10, 2019 at 8:47 PM UTC
Seconds Crawl
Do you remember that time, That magnificent time, when together we Were on the beach, you and I; We were lying and smiling and playing Whereas Little crickets were singing their songs in The grass; Little children were fidgeting with their little things Looking just like the cherubs without their Wings; And the days were so warm, and the sun That did shine, And the sound of the waves; and the gulls ‘Bove the brine; It was long time ago, Lot of things to and fro Had gone by Since that time Where were just you and I; I Believing that mine You will be forever; But now standing here with so, with so Misty a Weather, And holding so tightly, so tightly a feather That to me as a present You gave me, you gave me so long time ago And here just  I am, and your grave, and the crow
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Jan 7, 2020
Jan 7, 2020 at 11:22 AM UTC
Do you remember that time?
Loose Trigger Finger LOW Slung I'M ON THE RUN Rattlin Cans AND Rattlin Bones This Dead MAN Tells NO Lies Death MY Trusted Friend This Wheels Spinnin' 'Till THE END Skull Skull MY Skull I'LL Break That Skull Skull Skull MY Skull I'LL Break That Skull Woke UP Shell Shocked Vertigo Richochete I'M Raspin Metal Shot THE Pass Burnt THE Past Here Dead MAN Tells NO Lies Hittin THE Dark Stretch Hittin' IT Hard Burning Down MY Memories Kickin IT OUT NO Holes Barred ON THE Edge OF THE Black Blade Alone Under THE Open Vault Freedom From MY Enemies ITS Full Bore IN Full Revolt THE Edge OF THE Black Blade Skull Skull MY Skull I'LL Break That Skull Skull Skull MY Skull I'LL Break That Skull Free TO Ride Eyes Wild Raspin Metal Chatterin' Teeth AND Jarrin' Bones This Dead MAN Comes TO Life SIX Shots Ring OUT IN THE Dark Hammering IM Firing Wild Bite THE Tooth OF THE Shark This Heretic Wild Child Free Reign Here NOW Bright Sparks AND HOW Riding A Toothless Shark Shooting Flames IN THE Dark Woke UP Shell Shocked Vertigo Richochete I'M Rasping Metal SIX Shots Ring OUT IN THE Dark Hammering IM Firing Wild Bite THE Tooth OF THE Shark This SIX String Wild Child SIX String Wild Child Full Cocked Firing Wild SIX Shots IN THE Dark Ring OUT MY Shout Death MY Only Friend Forever Stares AT ME Death MY Trusted Friend Forever TO BE Free Skull Skull MY Skull Forever TO BE Free Loose Trigger Finger LOW Slung I'M ON THE RUN Rattlin' Cans AND Rattlin' Bones This Dead MAN Tells NO Lies Woke UP Shell Shocked Vertigo Richochete Raspin' Metal Free Reign Here NOW Bright Sparks AND HOW Shooting Flames IN THE Dark Burnt Finger Eyes Wild Flash Burn Powder KEG Full Stick I'M ON THE Edge Fully Fledge NO **** Full Sledge NO Drag Feel THE Open Vault 'Bove YA Head IN Full Revolt I'M Bleedin' Lead Death MY Trusted Friend This Wheels Spinnin' Till THE END
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May 7, 2021
May 7, 2021 at 6:12 PM UTC
Untitled
Loose Trigger Finger LOW Slung I'M ON THE RUN Rattlin Cans AND Rattlin Bones This Dead MAN Tells NO Lies Death MY Trusted Friend This Wheels Spinnin' 'Till THE END Skull Skull MY Skull I'LL Break That Skull Skull Skull MY Skull I'LL Break That Skull Woke UP Shell Shocked Vertigo Richochete I'M Raspin Metal Shot THE Pass Burnt THE Past Here Dead MAN Tells NO Lies Hittin THE Dark Stretch Hittin' IT Hard Burning Down MY Memories Kickin IT OUT NO Holes Barred ON THE Edge OF THE Black Blade Alone Under THE Open Vault Freedom From MY Enemies ITS Full Bore IN Full Revolt THE Edge OF THE Black Blade Skull Skull MY Skull I'LL Break That Skull Skull Skull MY Skull I'LL Break That Skull Free TO Ride Eyes Wild Raspin Metal Chatterin' Teeth AND Jarrin' Bones This Dead MAN Comes TO Life SIX Shots Ring OUT IN THE Dark Hammering IM Firing Wild Bite THE Tooth OF THE Shark This Heretic Wild Child Free Reign Here NOW Bright Sparks AND HOW Riding A Toothless Shark Shooting Flames IN THE Dark Woke UP Shell Shocked Vertigo Richochete I'M Rasping Metal SIX Shots Ring OUT IN THE Dark Hammering IM Firing Wild Bite THE Tooth OF THE Shark This SIX String Wild Child SIX String Wild Child Full Cocked Firing Wild SIX Shots IN THE Dark Ring OUT MY Shout Death MY Only Friend Forever Stares AT ME Death MY Trusted Friend Forever TO BE Free Skull Skull MY Skull Forever TO BE Free Loose Trigger Finger LOW Slung I'M ON THE RUN Rattlin' Cans AND Rattlin' Bones This Dead MAN Tells NO Lies Woke UP Shell Shocked Vertigo Richochete Raspin' Metal Free Reign Here NOW Bright Sparks AND HOW Shooting Flames IN THE Dark Burnt Finger Eyes Wild Flash Burn Powder KEG Full Stick I'M ON THE Edge Fully Fledge NO **** Full Sledge NO Drag Feel THE Open Vault 'Bove YA Head IN Full Revolt I'M Bleedin' Lead Death MY Trusted Friend This Wheels Spinnin' Till THE END
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