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"bridled" poems
Ah.. shes here...I shuffle around the stalls... watching..out of the corners of my eyes.... she knows ....Intimacy...a hand on flank..careful.. .you'll break me....with your gentle hands.. ..My hard mouth....your soft lips.. ..unruly, unruled....old horse...a kiss. .. Confused, ...stallion in name only. ... You whisper... My ears ***** ... forward..the hunt! ....your scent on.. ..My bridle...I smell u still... .. Calm...Comfort...Welcome... .Gentled, not too gently....a strong hand. . It grows trust …..truth...a Stallion! Once more. Panting...pawing...'Be easy'..nervous eyes roll. .a hand on the neck...a caress..'Gently '...you whisper, .... hot breath against ear … I snuffle and toss my head …. still a bit frightened…..her power! ..Will you ride.? ! ..firm thighs and buttocks.. ..Toes point... Heels dig...all Give and Take…. . Instruction to...from...the muscled beast. ..straddled. Awkward… too long without…. ..A Rider … the matching... Gait with hip... Walk-on.. Trot, pounding...Heels clip. ..faster, just a bit..Then smoothly they fit her to him. ...a canter.....this long stretch....rocking like one creature ….each a part of the other...breathing evenly… ...caught ….. Breath comes quick...bodies warm. . Exertion...strength..trust.. Leaning forward.. knees grip..pulling...toes curl..in.. ..hot breath..whisper in an ear… Now! ...hands grip mane... As they clench … bit between the teeth...She.. ...gives him his head... Finding his rhythm …. home in sight...a last burst…… Rider/Stallion sweat soaked … blood pounding..There... againthe scent of her...Sweet Hay rising. ..she whispers… yes oh yes… I knew… you had it in you.. In me...oh gods….YES! ! . . No! not the pasture yet for you.. She chuckles.. .bodies tangled in sheets ….. Her mane of dark hair.. Scent of her fills him … glad to be..Alive? Yes..head…. Heat… heart...bursting…Not now… But soon. . A gift.. This youth.. Who see's value in an old war horse. ..ridden.. but no more to war and blood.. .gentled, both he and she… sleep…bridled passion. ..her...a scent of sweet hay… .him...an old spice..and gunpowder? ..mmm. by Alexander K Hamilton
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Jan 20, 2017
Jan 20, 2017 at 12:01 AM UTC
Oh, Sweet Hay And Whispers
Ah.. shes here...I shuffle around the stalls... watching..out of the corners of my eyes.... she knows ....Intimacy...a hand on flank..careful.. .you'll break me....with your gentle hands.. ..My hard mouth....your soft lips.. ..unruly, unruled....old horse...a kiss. .. Confused, ...stallion in name only. ... You whisper... My ears ***** ... forward..the hunt! ....your scent on.. ..My bridle...I smell u still... .. Calm...Comfort...Welcome... .Gentled, not too gently....a strong hand. . It grows trust …..truth...a Stallion! Once more. Panting...pawing...'Be easy'..nervous eyes roll. .a hand on the neck...a caress..'Gently '...you whisper, .... hot breath against ear … I snuffle and toss my head …. still a bit frightened…..her power! ..Will you ride.? ! ..firm thighs and buttocks.. ..Toes point... Heels dig...all Give and Take…. . Instruction to...from...the muscled beast. ..straddled. Awkward… too long without…. ..A Rider … the matching... Gait with hip... Walk-on.. Trot, pounding...Heels clip. ..faster, just a bit..Then smoothly they fit her to him. ...a canter.....this long stretch....rocking like one creature ….each a part of the other...breathing evenly… ...caught ….. Breath comes quick...bodies warm. . Exertion...strength..trust.. Leaning forward.. knees grip..pulling...toes curl..in.. ..hot breath..whisper in an ear… Now! ...hands grip mane... As they clench … bit between the teeth...She.. ...gives him his head... Finding his rhythm …. home in sight...a last burst…… Rider/Stallion sweat soaked … blood pounding..There... againthe scent of her...Sweet Hay rising. ..she whispers… yes oh yes… I knew… you had it in you.. In me...oh gods….YES! ! . . No! not the pasture yet for you.. She chuckles.. .bodies tangled in sheets ….. Her mane of dark hair.. Scent of her fills him … glad to be..Alive? Yes..head…. Heat… heart...bursting…Not now… But soon. . A gift.. This youth.. Who see's value in an old war horse. ..ridden.. but no more to war and blood.. .gentled, both he and she… sleep…bridled passion. ..her...a scent of sweet hay… .him...an old spice..and gunpowder? ..mmm. by Alexander K Hamilton
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47
∙∙∙◦◦•◎•◦◦∙∙∙ A soul welcoming spring, the heart of autumn. Gentle leaves flailing, A scene of pictures falling. Rapture of one's old past, but rain was out of site. The roads were a barren land, as birds did not sing. As days were meek of the night, though I was aware: My seeking heart desires, seasons through the eyes. Sweeping a material dream, fading out of sight. Till it came to life, suspending what bridled me. And everything changed, a future beyond the wall. Luminous summer: vigor upon meadow fields. Her daffodils blooming, heat of the breeze within. Written on the wind, the scarlet tied between our lines. Transcending all is well, an image of a childlike faith. My ought to trust and wait, for now, I'm brave enough to tell.
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May 4, 2018
May 4, 2018 at 9:22 PM UTC
Written on the Wind
Through water and sand, stands you. Spring breaking at you feet Your breath flicking the pages of a street paper A black crown of nightingales at your head Entwined in leaves and wheat trickling down stones in dew-morning light and thrones in brambles of blackberry pie Rooted to firewood and sheer bliss of kissed moonlight Where herons christen Stars before black velvet blanket Bridled by Rosemary and time, caught with Mary in a dark corner Slumped behind priest less ivy, we permeate the air and through blue blooded command and gnashing of teeth, slants me Outside the ramshackle cwtch I the hangmedown barks of woods, kneels you. And stopped around cockles and foundling sparrows, sings the epitaph of a fallen barbarian. Still through desert and carcass, lies you. JWS
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Apr 16, 2015
Apr 16, 2015 at 7:29 AM UTC
Black Crown
it is temporary the mirrored faces reflecting back into one- it is as temporary as the sun. it is temporary, this burning body of youth. it is temporary insanity and temporary truth. it is movable pieces in the bottle of corked vermouth. it is ungrateful youth and all her fantasy her ****** opportunity- the days of endless sunshine fogged with cascading rain, full of superficial pain, that only sets into the skin to rise up much later. blemished traitors of your failing past. it is temporary, the primping of memories undone- it is as temporary as the blazing gun. it is temporary, it is fleeting and no matter how these products keep us believing they are nothing more then distractions, they are deceiving. as the sand is thrown in our glossy eyes and stars that once opened in the night sky just for us- open no more. we retire from the bridled gore of youth and her tireless war and forever more, must sing the songs of fading youth. must curse the uncouth, the way the years have wandered by without any proper goodbye and we, as strangers in this looming unknown we must come to know as past our prime, past our time, and be spectators into the theatre of vanity we are now excluded from. oh, how we wish we’d undone the regrets and missteps- but we are denied to ever confide the wisdom we’ve gained since beauty and youth have fled- we are condemned to be voiceless passengers on our train ride to the end. yet, this is temporary. as temporary as you and i, the ailing sky, the aching stars, the rolling hilltops, tracing to the mouth of the river and when we are at once delivered to a final resting stop- we pray, we hope as tooth and nail dragged we try to cope, to be temporary no more- temporary no more- temporary no more- temporary no more-
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Feb 2, 2010
Feb 2, 2010 at 7:11 PM UTC
it is temporary
it is temporary the mirrored faces reflecting back into one- it is as temporary as the sun. it is temporary, this burning body of youth. it is temporary insanity and temporary truth. it is movable pieces in the bottle of corked vermouth. it is ungrateful youth and all her fantasy her ****** opportunity- the days of endless sunshine fogged with cascading rain, full of superficial pain, that only sets into the skin to rise up much later. blemished traitors of your failing past. it is temporary, the primping of memories undone- it is as temporary as the blazing gun. it is temporary, it is fleeting and no matter how these products keep us believing they are nothing more then distractions, they are deceiving. as the sand is thrown in our glossy eyes and stars that once opened in the night sky just for us- open no more. we retire from the bridled gore of youth and her tireless war and forever more, must sing the songs of fading youth. must curse the uncouth, the way the years have wandered by without any proper goodbye and we, as strangers in this looming unknown we must come to know as past our prime, past our time, and be spectators into the theatre of vanity we are now excluded from. oh, how we wish we’d undone the regrets and missteps- but we are denied to ever confide the wisdom we’ve gained since beauty and youth have fled- we are condemned to be voiceless passengers on our train ride to the end. yet, this is temporary. as temporary as you and i, the ailing sky, the aching stars, the rolling hilltops, tracing to the mouth of the river and when we are at once delivered to a final resting stop- we pray, we hope as tooth and nail dragged we try to cope, to be temporary no more- temporary no more- temporary no more- temporary no more-
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73
Pulsating honor doth corroded hearts impound A blustery breeze echoes cries from each, preceding battleground A recurring, eager parade of reporters, gawkers freely roam distant mound Below, fatigued, tidy mass of steeled infantry; to death's throes bound Neighing horses conditioned to mayhem the pageantry doth confound On opposite ridges, mounted turrets prepared hell's fury to expound On signal, a synchronized, concussive chorus doth its dark melody propound Scraps of metal shards initiate; commencing another, toilsome round After lengthy barrage, wits collected a more lethal volley to stound Familiar, urgent order to charge christens hallowed ground With youthful ardor a wide-eyed bugler doth the bridled expanse unbound Shrieking rancor from recoiling rifles; a familiar anthem doth resound Recurring cacophonous medley, weathered nerves drowned Once more, a mass of flesh surges into the abyss with mortal hopes crowned Anon, shattered limbs; gory wounds misery's cache compound
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Jul 20, 2012
Jul 20, 2012 at 9:59 AM UTC
Civil War Battlefield
On yonder strand In bridled land A motley band With vigor fanned Across hill, lowland With self righteous brand Seeking brigand contraband From each licentious hand To forthrightly remand Every highway spanned Tolls, tribute to demand Each pilfering cleric did reprimand Then every bloated collection was panned Every royal vestige scanned Gratuitous coffers to expand
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Aug 6, 2012
Aug 6, 2012 at 11:46 AM UTC
Robin Hood's Merry Band
*His heart misses beats the moment that fragile butterfly sits on it and her legs tickle the tender membranes covering arteries and veins causing the blood bubble like never before. The heart so passionate, forgets in its eagerness, that it belongs to a beast, answers back in an invented language, somehow butterflies seems to understand so well. Now the wild beast's heartbeat gets synchronized with the beat of butterfly's wings what white magic is this? He becomes amazingly light the butterfly's consort now sees light in crazy iridescent colors jubilant like a victor, he flies up every time, she wants to touch a cloud, catch a falling star or race with a bird, for fun every one loudly wonders how the beast that only roared and growled sprung at the world, at the slightest of provocations was bridled and contained by the chit of a beauty riot. Oh! I can tell the beast mostly was an apparition its dead, or if you can believe beaten to death by two colorful wings another wonder of love, it is won't be resurrected again, if not, the butterfly would disappear in the thick woods in  efflorescence.*
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Jan 1, 2014
Jan 1, 2014 at 1:20 PM UTC
The beast and the butterfly
Ice Tinkles in Cocktail Glasses, At a Washington Hotel Lobby A Senator Brags about his Hobby It costs a lot of Upkeep to Maintain Racing Stock, Ah but Bridled & Reined Its Worth It, says the Chair of the FDA Committee Over Sight to the Rep From The  Pharmaceuticals Association As they Head to the Corner to whisper The Engineer At Major Automotive Tells them what he Sees for new Parts They are off tolerance But in the Chart It Shows only 3% Fatality, and It saves cash After the Discussion to table it for Now They break out the Bonuses for saving Money Dark Souls Cast Dark Shadows in Life With No Respect For Honesty or Right Can't they see in a Flash, they fly into the Abyss For all their Money..... On a Carpet of Cash
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Feb 11, 2015
Feb 11, 2015 at 6:33 PM UTC
Tricked into The Abyss
From the thicket of garrulous bamboos, a love lorn song, in the air makes waves, enthralled, a rustle, from the foliage of a mango tree laden with fruits, A wistful tune announces,"I am here" a hearty call  heard in return, a symphony of love, fills the air two invisible lovers, woo each other. a sonorous duet, above nature's sounds, in clear high notes, celebrates love newly found, cacophony of birds, is bridled sudden stillness is all ears for love notes. now the lovers,  are in the air circling each other, madly love struck. like a breeze meets and carries fragrance, love is sought and found,  a song composed!
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Jul 30, 2012
Jul 30, 2012 at 10:35 PM UTC
finding love
I can't go into the city It reminds me of you Your voice haunts my footsteps The sights bring butterflies back to my stomach And when evening comes, my heart can barely contain its excitement At the thought of seeing you It becomes incensed So to cool it down I think of your demeanor towards me When I knew it was falling apart I go back to that moment When you bridled my passion And my will submitted to yours I think of the disdain with which I perceived you regarded me Not her again Is what I imagined you said Every time your phone lit up But really, I just wanted you to feel the love you deserve This is my curse Always giving, never receiving Like the water bearer that is my sign Aquarius in the sky Water heals, Why couldn't I have tried harder Going back to those streets takes everything I have I must not cry But I can't, I don't know if you are everything to me But I sure as hell wanted to find out Why do I mourn that, which I never had I never meant anything to you Admit it But you had the potential to be my whole world But I know now , that to try giving you what you need You would have to be as willing as me And so I continue to pour out love waiting for you to catch it
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Apr 13, 2016
Apr 13, 2016 at 8:19 PM UTC
The City
I stumble recklessly through my timid thoughts This bridled resentment destroys my conscience Despite my intention, I ceded my morals The morale of my virtue plummets by the second Dissension among my synapses seethes to the surface I am a house divided against itself Regret lovingly entices my bloodthirsty demons She shrugs surely with shivering shame With my vision impaired, my dreams are soundly asleep Kept calmly in this cavern of my cantankerous crimes My respite is met with malice and spite I cannot escape what these two hands have done My distress is hidden in silence I had already dashed my untarnished ambition I awaken in sweat and confusion As an empty bottle mocks me with cruel contempt...
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Feb 20, 2021
Feb 20, 2021 at 7:48 AM UTC
Past, Present, and Virtue
Eagles weep the dust of fury Glory hangs in a breeze filled sky Trumpets howl forth silence Empty eyes gaze on debris and cry Paradox rains upon sweltering souls Discordant melodies find no harmonic tone Sleeping giants fail to wake Dreams of horror in daylight come Restrained talons seek to rip Flesh and bone. Retribution wails Bridled shouts from viper lips Broken tongues speechless, still Such foreign chaos, grief born questions Here rests doubt, fear rooting Anger to pain beget rage Tearing fabric, destroying the shoot A blast through heart’s cage Cries, screams and eternal rage Why! Demands our soul Why? Defiant voices entreat Into this realm of despair Touching sinew of exposed hope Lifting corpse-like remains Our Hope stands, lifted hands In a speechless voice the whisper comes Gentle words rock our perilous stance Words carefully spoken, deeply heard Faith, Hope, Love the memory calls Again, glorious birds will find their songs Heavy banners will lift in a gentle breeze Clarion call of brass sounds, proclaims Life has come and still remains
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Sep 11, 2014
Sep 11, 2014 at 8:43 AM UTC
Eagles Weep
I saw a vision I stood in modern time on my feet but in the spirit I stood only where immortals breathe in The sacred land of ancient days the Native American people came to life before my eyes there was a River nameless but of truth the mighty Euphrates or more correctly the river of life heavy and rich Were these waters glory stood bank to bank the mesquite and cotton wood seemed to be made of Silk they flowed dreamlike as flags over a free land the day was far spent and in the dying sun she came To bathe but not in the natural waters but her quest was to worship the great spirit in which all true Cleansing occurs she wore the dress of her people white doe skin with red and turquoise bead work And her reddish skin did glow she sent a treble across the distance to where I stood when she lifted her Hands of faith and hope skyward in surrender beauty untold before materialized upon the burnished Sand all of nature fell silent as she called on the Great Spirit stillness took on new meaning vastness was Restricted drawn back from it natural means to this tiny spot of ground the air charged with the deep Longing of her soul the trees crackled as heavy mist descended mellowness pervaded this place made The wood the rarified earthy throne of God himself as she spoke oh the face shown with uncustomary Wonder did the unexplained become common knowledge for her it did in this grand display of Emotional release she bridled the breeze before horses were ever found in this land she drew heaven Down all was quiet and empty in this clearing and she filled it with noble words that honored Him who Deserves all praise we live on error and garbage when we should be feasting on spiritual riches to know All that is yours it takes you joining this Indian maiden come not rehearsed and filled with self but as the Lowy penitent subscriber for his free gifts these most treasured thoughts came as I watched a young Woman praising our great father remarkable circumstances that are your birthright if you only exercise Them God bless you
0
Sep 29, 2012
Sep 29, 2012 at 10:39 PM UTC
White Dove
I saw a vision I stood in modern time on my feet but in the spirit I stood only where immortals breathe in The sacred land of ancient days the Native American people came to life before my eyes there was a River nameless but of truth the mighty Euphrates or more correctly the river of life heavy and rich Were these waters glory stood bank to bank the mesquite and cotton wood seemed to be made of Silk they flowed dreamlike as flags over a free land the day was far spent and in the dying sun she came To bathe but not in the natural waters but her quest was to worship the great spirit in which all true Cleansing occurs she wore the dress of her people white doe skin with red and turquoise bead work And her reddish skin did glow she sent a treble across the distance to where I stood when she lifted her Hands of faith and hope skyward in surrender beauty untold before materialized upon the burnished Sand all of nature fell silent as she called on the Great Spirit stillness took on new meaning vastness was Restricted drawn back from it natural means to this tiny spot of ground the air charged with the deep Longing of her soul the trees crackled as heavy mist descended mellowness pervaded this place made The wood the rarified earthy throne of God himself as she spoke oh the face shown with uncustomary Wonder did the unexplained become common knowledge for her it did in this grand display of Emotional release she bridled the breeze before horses were ever found in this land she drew heaven Down all was quiet and empty in this clearing and she filled it with noble words that honored Him who Deserves all praise we live on error and garbage when we should be feasting on spiritual riches to know All that is yours it takes you joining this Indian maiden come not rehearsed and filled with self but as the Lowy penitent subscriber for his free gifts these most treasured thoughts came as I watched a young Woman praising our great father remarkable circumstances that are your birthright if you only exercise Them God bless you
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21
White Dove I saw a vision I stood in modern time on my feet but in the spirit I stood only where immortals breathe in The sacred land of ancient days the Native American people came to life before my eyes there was a River nameless but of truth the mighty Euphrates or more correctly the river of life heavy and rich Were these waters glory stood bank to bank the mesquite and cotton wood seemed to be made of Silk they flowed dreamlike as flags over a free land the day was far spent and in the dying sun she came To bathe but not in the natural waters but her quest was to worship the great spirit in which all true Cleansing occurs she wore the dress of her people white doe skin with red and turquoise bead work And her reddish skin did glow she sent a treble across the distance to where I stood when she lifted her Hands of faith and hope skyward in surrender beauty untold before materialized upon the burnished Sand all of nature fell silent as she called on the Great Spirit stillness took on new meaning vastness was Restricted drawn back from it natural means to this tiny spot of ground the air charged with the deep Longing of her soul the trees crackled as heavy mist descended mellowness pervaded this place made The wood the rarified earthy throne of God himself as she spoke oh the face shown with uncustomary Wonder did the unexplained become common knowledge for her it did in this grand display of Emotional release she bridled the breeze before horses were ever found in this land she drew heaven Down all was quiet and empty in this clearing and she filled it with noble words that honored Him who Deserves all praise we live on error and garbage when we should be feasting on spiritual riches to know All that is yours it takes you joining this Indian maiden come not rehearsed and filled with self but as the Lowy penitent subscriber for his free gifts these most treasured thoughts came as I watched a young Woman praising our great father remarkable circumstances that are your birthright if you only exercise Them God bless you
0
Mar 26, 2012
Mar 26, 2012 at 7:24 AM UTC
White Dove
White Dove I saw a vision I stood in modern time on my feet but in the spirit I stood only where immortals breathe in The sacred land of ancient days the Native American people came to life before my eyes there was a River nameless but of truth the mighty Euphrates or more correctly the river of life heavy and rich Were these waters glory stood bank to bank the mesquite and cotton wood seemed to be made of Silk they flowed dreamlike as flags over a free land the day was far spent and in the dying sun she came To bathe but not in the natural waters but her quest was to worship the great spirit in which all true Cleansing occurs she wore the dress of her people white doe skin with red and turquoise bead work And her reddish skin did glow she sent a treble across the distance to where I stood when she lifted her Hands of faith and hope skyward in surrender beauty untold before materialized upon the burnished Sand all of nature fell silent as she called on the Great Spirit stillness took on new meaning vastness was Restricted drawn back from it natural means to this tiny spot of ground the air charged with the deep Longing of her soul the trees crackled as heavy mist descended mellowness pervaded this place made The wood the rarified earthy throne of God himself as she spoke oh the face shown with uncustomary Wonder did the unexplained become common knowledge for her it did in this grand display of Emotional release she bridled the breeze before horses were ever found in this land she drew heaven Down all was quiet and empty in this clearing and she filled it with noble words that honored Him who Deserves all praise we live on error and garbage when we should be feasting on spiritual riches to know All that is yours it takes you joining this Indian maiden come not rehearsed and filled with self but as the Lowy penitent subscriber for his free gifts these most treasured thoughts came as I watched a young Woman praising our great father remarkable circumstances that are your birthright if you only exercise Them God bless you
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22
In the midst of a sudden storm One night a year ago, Whilst solitary camping In ancient woodland With wise majestic oaks, From seemingly nowhere A poem flowed from within, Unleashing a torrent of words. 387 published poems later, Releasing bridled feelings, Unveiling past experiences, Encapsulating deep seated pain and hidden anguish, My healing journey continues, With inner strength, courage, compassion And a 180 degree turn Towards my dreams And my future.
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Aug 2, 2021
Aug 2, 2021 at 11:35 AM UTC
A Year Ago
With Ma Lil **** Dill one bilabial fricative smacking tongue thrusting (lizard like) indefatigable prelapsarian Garden of Eden dwelling primate doth pine with two lipped treating zest for Eve fun juiced a tasty droplet, wrest ting kitty meowing Mz er loo, sans verboten fruit Yukon die vest via jump starting a hovering damn electric kool aid acid test Hair and there, a bare naked lady attired in her birthday suit, the sexiest plump ***** roseate sear suckered ******* trickling milky nectar when casting shadowed umbra at rest thirsting, unleashing, vaunting, et cetera viz prurient quest, whereby this rambunctious ***** bull lever severely oppressed condemned with life sentence of ****** solitude, nest souled (sorely testing agonizing Victorian modest tee primly and properly tortures carnal temptation lest surrendering syllabus "C" ) even jest a jot, cuz tis pure torture restraining feral, hormonal, integral hankering to stoke libido at Parochialism be hest thus, aye feel unfairly deprived, no hello kitty will be guest unsure how helpful "getting off my chest" works thee unnatural tethered ****** suppression, perhaps best left unmentioned, encumbered with jiggly, flabby droopy breast works, and unwanted love handles state of reined swiftly tailored harried stylishly groomed FitBit bridled uncertainty I attest.
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Jun 11, 2018
Jun 11, 2018 at 10:00 PM UTC
Iam Buck King with Pent Tame Eater Re:
You've lived a long life, burning through each day with a passion barely bridled by gravity Expelling an otherworldly essence Drawing me into your orbit, with a hug around my shoulders Your hands planted firmly on my cheeks was an interstellar daydream You put me between stars Now you're fading And no matter how many light-years away I'll still feel your supernova And that's okay Your nebula will always shine And your stardust will still burn bright as the eyes that bore witness to your life
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Apr 18, 2015
Apr 18, 2015 at 2:26 PM UTC
h2 + he2
waiting for years it seems quiet observer, with grandiose dreams, bridled fervor, impatiently as life streams without a life preserver, have my saviours sailed the other way, being time, success, and bank account balance, when the battle was spiritual warfare. I was fighting the wrong fight the wrong enemy, feel good gone bad. emotionally had, con anarchist, picked my name from a list and worked me over and over till my brittle soul was lost in finding closure. ©DWE092013
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Sep 28, 2013
Sep 28, 2013 at 10:05 PM UTC
Brittle Soul
I saw a vision I stood in modern time on my feet but in the spirit I stood only where immortals breathe in The sacred land of ancient days the Native American people came to life before my eyes there was a River nameless but of truth the mighty Euphrates or more correctly the river of life heavy and rich Were these waters glory stood bank to bank the mesquite and cotton wood seemed to be made of Silk they flowed dreamlike as flags over a free land the day was far spent and in the dying sun she came To bathe but not in the natural waters but her quest was to worship the great spirit in which all true Cleansing occurs she wore the dress of her people white doe skin with red and turquoise bead work And her reddish skin did glow she sent a treble across the distance to where I stood when she lifted her Hands of faith and hope skyward in surrender beauty untold before materialized upon the burnished Sand all of nature fell silent as she called on the Great Spirit stillness took on new meaning vastness was Restricted drawn back from it natural means to this tiny spot of ground the air charged with the deep Longing of her soul the trees crackled as heavy mist descended mellowness pervaded this place made The wood the rarified earthy throne of God himself as she spoke oh the face shown with uncustomary Wonder did the unexplained become common knowledge for her it did in this grand display of Emotional release she bridled the breeze before horses were ever found in this land she drew heaven Down all was quiet and empty in this clearing and she filled it with noble words that honored Him who Deserves all praise we live on error and garbage when we should be feasting on spiritual riches to know All that is yours it takes you joining this Indian maiden come not rehearsed and filled with self but as the Lowy penitent subscriber for his free gifts these most treasured thoughts came as I watched a young Woman praising our great father remarkable circumstances that are your birthright if you only exercise Them God bless you
0
Jun 17, 2013
Jun 17, 2013 at 12:05 AM UTC
White Dove
I saw a vision I stood in modern time on my feet but in the spirit I stood only where immortals breathe in The sacred land of ancient days the Native American people came to life before my eyes there was a River nameless but of truth the mighty Euphrates or more correctly the river of life heavy and rich Were these waters glory stood bank to bank the mesquite and cotton wood seemed to be made of Silk they flowed dreamlike as flags over a free land the day was far spent and in the dying sun she came To bathe but not in the natural waters but her quest was to worship the great spirit in which all true Cleansing occurs she wore the dress of her people white doe skin with red and turquoise bead work And her reddish skin did glow she sent a treble across the distance to where I stood when she lifted her Hands of faith and hope skyward in surrender beauty untold before materialized upon the burnished Sand all of nature fell silent as she called on the Great Spirit stillness took on new meaning vastness was Restricted drawn back from it natural means to this tiny spot of ground the air charged with the deep Longing of her soul the trees crackled as heavy mist descended mellowness pervaded this place made The wood the rarified earthy throne of God himself as she spoke oh the face shown with uncustomary Wonder did the unexplained become common knowledge for her it did in this grand display of Emotional release she bridled the breeze before horses were ever found in this land she drew heaven Down all was quiet and empty in this clearing and she filled it with noble words that honored Him who Deserves all praise we live on error and garbage when we should be feasting on spiritual riches to know All that is yours it takes you joining this Indian maiden come not rehearsed and filled with self but as the Lowy penitent subscriber for his free gifts these most treasured thoughts came as I watched a young Woman praising our great father remarkable circumstances that are your birthright if you only exercise Them God bless you
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21
Sitting in the asylum voices of the infirmed call to each other. A young man hums to himself, keys jangling. They carry their preferences under their arms, judging each other by the objects in their hands. And here I sit, in the atrium listening to the mad men heeding the sirens that call to them. They obey and beat their rhythms upon ivory tables bone-wracked as wooden bridges slip out of their grooves horses and trees united in the Sistine Chapel ceilings of the lunatic's mind epiphany and entropy painted on the skull canvases of bridled souls. The floor shudders as a hundred feet tap their heartbeats in different moments. Seizures of enlightenment are what brought them here, and similarly, what will keep them. A sired calls from a locked room and the ivory tables shatter.
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Apr 15, 2014
Apr 15, 2014 at 2:18 AM UTC
Blum at 1 p.m. On A Thursday
in this walk, I am solitary it comforts me. this leprous condemnation, my dearest heart ….has me bridled. a noble sacrifice, please understand. i see your face in the silvering, not my own. shimmering, gazing, smiling at me ~ rachael hays 16J15
0
Aug 15, 2015
Aug 15, 2015 at 2:49 PM UTC
Silvering
Why would I consider it When never were you true I never should reload it And relinquish it to you For surely would you use it And still would I show surprise At the sight of bridled malice In such grey and lifeless eyes The tools you used against me Left scars across my mind The will you took away from me I happily resigned A blame it hovers over you But doesn't match your dress If more I pile onto you It seems I carry less You placed such trust about me And it grew too hot to hold I dropped the warmth in front of me And cursed about the cold A shiver ran about me Like a spider on my skin My vision faded eerily The room began to spin Insanity beheld me In my broken tepid form It wrapped its arms around me So comforting and warm And showed me secret windows Which no living eye should bite With a light of truth above its head It charged into the night
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May 31, 2014
May 31, 2014 at 9:57 AM UTC
Why Would I Consider It?
There was a smile that broke the world, Appeared upon a tryst, I found the edge of what was love, I fell in its abyss. The hallowed smile that broke the world, Her eyes a vertigoic possessing swirl. A walking ballet on invisible felt, Froze my brain, and made my heart melt. The perfect smile that broke the world left me carelessly gawking on idle, My words always so cool were bridled, My ears filled with caulk to others. The alluring smile that broke the world, Its edges curled into a ball, Its lips coloured cherry like leaves in the fall. Its corners sharp like assassins knives, The simple smile that broke the world, Once only a joy to me, Its memory will remain protected in lifes fabric stained, Comes out each jubilee
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Nov 15, 2017
Nov 15, 2017 at 3:12 PM UTC
The Smile That Broke The World