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"christens" poems
Lieing beside her in the dark, peaceful and quite I hear her breath I praise the Lord for that moment And for bringing our hearts together For she is the most enchanting creature in the forest And I am the luckiest boy in the world I ponder how I adore her, and how she makes me feel I softly weep without a sound Overflowing with Love for her I Watch Her Sleep I want to go to her, to hold her in my arms To feel her body close To feel her heart beating, to smell her essence But I refrain For she is resting, and I would wake her And to wake such magnificence from such a heavenly state Would surely be a sin, a travesty A selfish act for which there would be no forgiveness So I resist, and I drift away, to a dream, to a thought I Watch Her Sleep Lieing beside her in the dark, peaceful and quite Then suddenly, right before my very eyes She becomes even more radiant, more angelic And when the morning light christens her soft skin And her hazel eyes open to see the world I will be there To kiss her face a hundred times For she is my reason, my inspiration, the Love of my life I Watch Her Sleep
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Oct 23, 2014
Oct 23, 2014 at 4:54 PM UTC
I Watch Her Sleep
I am sitting at a desk, back straight, head forward, eyes open. Blink. Economics melts into white noise as supply curves become demand curves become supply curves, elasticity. Water weeps through the crevasses of the windows and ceiling, mocking my ever fragile existence. Ankle deep in yesterday's cold forgotten words unsaid, the lesson advances. Demand curves become supply curves become demand curves, consumer surplus. A single drop christens my desk and terror fills my long hollow eyes as the ceiling mutates into a congregation of puddles. Rain that felt of hydrochloric acid dissolved the very flesh I tried to escape. God is not so sweet when it comes to sinners, confining me to the barriers of an insignificant wooden desk. The class remains like mannequins, indifference radiating from their plastic cores. Supply curves become demand curves become supply curves, externalities. The only witness to this nightmare,   my last breathe finally deserts me. I tense as the numbing waves climb up my spine,   injecting lethargy in each individual vertebra. Malicious tentacles wrap around my throat and water floods my collapsing black lungs.   White noise consumes the entire classroom as I float in and out of paralysis,   only to open my eyes. Blink.
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Apr 10, 2014
Apr 10, 2014 at 2:56 PM UTC
A moment
"Nothing beside remains. Round the decay Of that colossal Wreck, boundless and bare The lone and level sands stretch far away.” -Ozymandias I. O wait for us, Colossus as we wait - and throw you to earth: from heaven’s gates judge you unworthy - to hades’ lands assign, where your iron limbs make mincemeat out of anguished homes - by tyrants you were thrown but floated aimless past the drifting realms where once lay hell, and fired you your rocket boosters - apollo’s gift blinding still your eyes - II. next, awake: the visage of the Child in your face - languishing, affronted: two vast and trunkless legs of iron glare, only to grow rigid still - slumping at His feet: with heart-engine smoking, eyes hollowed-black, lying in slumber with giant's knees bent, in grasslands rest and where hearkens the plain - He cries out: ’tis you! though dwarf, He is - he kneads your iron by grass, and your wounded legs the earth now christens, snd blesses still your sleep. III. He moves forth with grass blades and twigs, crown you a nest; and bear stones unrolled to where your feet first kisses ground. -2.17.16
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Mar 15, 2016
Mar 15, 2016 at 11:38 AM UTC
Iron Giant
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
This bottle bleeds like heartbeats inebriating grass contesting dew drops      heartstopping plot lines meanwhile fireflight christens the night that listens to our intoxicated forgetfulness a cheap libation liberation young-morning dream sleep waking walking, weaving half-heard whispers of stubborn solemnity, we wrought havoc; we were not in love it was just the cold night air      and the field that smelled of chardonnay
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Mar 25, 2014
Mar 25, 2014 at 11:44 AM UTC
Libation
Sparkling birdsong christens morning, noisy, but not annoying. Bringing with them a sprinkling of effervescent light , applauding the day. An electric spark, chases dying night away. Reintroduction a brand new day, the prize of life, a fizzing Friday. (c) LIVVI
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Mar 7, 2014
Mar 7, 2014 at 1:28 AM UTC
MORNING MOOD
She wanders at the edge of her existence, her mind long overgrown with wild nettles. Her heart’s lost in an opalescent distance where the moon spins into cobwebs as she listens. Her heart beats like a war drum, then resettles. She wanders at the edge of her existence and stumbles on a winding path that glistens with blooming garden beds and bleeding petals. Her heart’s lost in an opalescent distance to reach a rose-gold sun that slowly christens the day into a burst of blues and metals. She wanders at the edge of her existence, the willows bowing at the sun’s insistence. While waiting to see where the shadow settles, her heart’s lost in an opalescent distance. She recites epics to her heart, but if it listens, it remains concealed among the moss and nettles. She wanders at the edge of her existence, her heart lost in an opalescent distance.
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Mar 25, 2020
Mar 25, 2020 at 1:08 PM UTC
Searching
We who are the dancing, we who are the free The laughing singing multitude that bears the song of the earth on our tongues, That bear the soul of the earth with our hearts And march to the melody of our own invisible song We whose anthem christens the sky with the fullness of our boldness, of our voices, The children born of the song of the spheres That align with the stars and swim in the moonlight of forgotten gods And pray to the miracle of the clouds, painted and forever traveling We who are the awakened many The harbingers of forgiveness That do not shudder in the glorious face of eternity And who wash away our tears along with our fathers’ past sins We who were muted, who were muzzled and mauve The silenced, shackled dreamers once hooked to the drug of complacency but That chose to follow fate’s thread out of Asterion’s dwelling And wander forever onward into the beautiful unknown • We declare a peace that consumes us, white hot and burning Without fear of our waxy wings soaring our spirits into the glowing sky But with the joys of love and voices lifted in song • We declare an equalness between ourselves, springy and pure Without angst over our mortal trappings But with the knowing in our stardust selves • We declare a justice pure and blind Without deafness or a commitment to her own fear, But with a feather-soft understanding to temper her wrath • We declare a world clean of human spite and neglectfulness Without revolting sedation or penurious derision But with the heart-worn life and long-wrinkled smiles of deep-rooted love • We declare a dedication to truth and knowledge Without the cowardice of a narrow, a cramped, a self-hurt mind But with the mantle of honesty; A mantle of honesty; it makes us light as the flutters of butterflies
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Oct 25, 2017
Oct 25, 2017 at 1:33 PM UTC
The Manifesto
We who are the dancing, we who are the free The laughing singing multitude that bears the song of the earth on our tongues, That bear the soul of the earth with our hearts And march to the melody of our own invisible song We whose anthem christens the sky with the fullness of our boldness, of our voices, The children born of the song of the spheres That align with the stars and swim in the moonlight of forgotten gods And pray to the miracle of the clouds, painted and forever traveling We who are the awakened many The harbingers of forgiveness That do not shudder in the glorious face of eternity And who wash away our tears along with our fathers’ past sins We who were muted, who were muzzled and mauve The silenced, shackled dreamers once hooked to the drug of complacency but That chose to follow fate’s thread out of Asterion’s dwelling And wander forever onward into the beautiful unknown • We declare a peace that consumes us, white hot and burning Without fear of our waxy wings soaring our spirits into the glowing sky But with the joys of love and voices lifted in song • We declare an equalness between ourselves, springy and pure Without angst over our mortal trappings But with the knowing in our stardust selves • We declare a justice pure and blind Without deafness or a commitment to her own fear, But with a feather-soft understanding to temper her wrath • We declare a world clean of human spite and neglectfulness Without revolting sedation or penurious derision But with the heart-worn life and long-wrinkled smiles of deep-rooted love • We declare a dedication to truth and knowledge Without the cowardice of a narrow, a cramped, a self-hurt mind But with the mantle of honesty; A mantle of honesty; it makes us light as the flutters of butterflies
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beloved I dreamt of you dreaming atilt against the lilies – the dawn with its mouth tottering before like an animal shying away from the automaton sky. it is in your hair full of evenings I saw the moon not with its tail but with the hooves of the deathless sea of this droning silence, not with its stride of sidereal measure but the mount of it past a thousand days tainted with crimson, it is not with lithe hands of churlish girls that I have plucked you out of that garden but with the immense hand of such obscure understanding from sleep’s peculiar mouth made divine in me, the word that christens what felled star rises from the palm of such darkness, that in the immensity of your sleep, I am but a bird passing athwart the windows and yearn so much the breeze that touches you in your timid sleep like dreams like loins like sirens like love cunning with its fluent spires of perfumes.
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Jan 8, 2016
Jan 8, 2016 at 6:47 AM UTC
I Dreamt
The hills of music The loudness Of Brilliant Beauty Her yodeling reminds Me of A Singing Scenery The yodeling Christens Heights The peace Behind the mountains Brings The solace Of Many years That may bring Constellations With wintry stars Snowing Soulfully
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Nov 26, 2018
Nov 26, 2018 at 5:55 AM UTC
Hail The Beautiful Snow
Who can hang with the flow None so suckas don't wanna go toe to toe Blow for blow we shuttin' down any shows Yo I be rippin'and then dippin' Tearin' up emcees Like slams of Scottie Pippen my clips in Begins mad *********** static the stations Once I step to the nation makin' innovations My team's basically waiting invoking Satan Many not Makin? Their moves ya vital signs leakin' homes I'mma keep rappin' til in a funeral home I'm makin' rap mortuaries to every body who get buried And married into the afterworld it varies Scenarios carry easily we hurry hotter than jamacian curry Lookin' at my right hand my pistol grip pumpin' Increase hearts ya jumpin' ivs dumping Tryna keep you alive bumpin' all jive yo we always into something..... My ****** rate dominate in all states undercover I'll annihilate And humiliate to those that wanna test thier fates I'm makin' casket crates three in a row seven each That means twenty one bodies leach I preach What I teach never a leech ya contracts breach Eulogy given flows hit like Julius Jackson stickin' Uppercuts from ya head to gut ya know what We bout to do **** ya crew like soundview Feel the blast spin around adversaries like Taz Leave a destructive path death gets the last laugh Powerful paragraphs that entice blood baths Master the craft still layin' my grande shaft A **** ero sick with the turntable beatin' labels She feelin' on my cables my necklace ain't no checkin' this Yo this ****** Ludacris number one spot I keep locked Like an Alcatraz prison spiritually risen Ya mentals genuflected from the music that christens Who can hang with the flow None so suckas don't wanna go toe to toe Blow for blow we shuttin' down any shows
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Sep 16, 2018
Sep 16, 2018 at 5:18 AM UTC
Blow 4 Blow (They Can't Hang So)
Who can hang with the flow None so suckas don't wanna go toe to toe Blow for blow we shuttin' down any shows Yo I be rippin'and then dippin' Tearin' up emcees Like slams of Scottie Pippen my clips in Begins mad *********** static the stations Once I step to the nation makin' innovations My team's basically waiting invoking Satan Many not Makin? Their moves ya vital signs leakin' homes I'mma keep rappin' til in a funeral home I'm makin' rap mortuaries to every body who get buried And married into the afterworld it varies Scenarios carry easily we hurry hotter than jamacian curry Lookin' at my right hand my pistol grip pumpin' Increase hearts ya jumpin' ivs dumping Tryna keep you alive bumpin' all jive yo we always into something..... My ****** rate dominate in all states undercover I'll annihilate And humiliate to those that wanna test thier fates I'm makin' casket crates three in a row seven each That means twenty one bodies leach I preach What I teach never a leech ya contracts breach Eulogy given flows hit like Julius Jackson stickin' Uppercuts from ya head to gut ya know what We bout to do **** ya crew like soundview Feel the blast spin around adversaries like Taz Leave a destructive path death gets the last laugh Powerful paragraphs that entice blood baths Master the craft still layin' my grande shaft A **** ero sick with the turntable beatin' labels She feelin' on my cables my necklace ain't no checkin' this Yo this ****** Ludacris number one spot I keep locked Like an Alcatraz prison spiritually risen Ya mentals genuflected from the music that christens Who can hang with the flow None so suckas don't wanna go toe to toe Blow for blow we shuttin' down any shows
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