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"coarses" poems
A confinement to the street, I likened it to a bliss of pain. Not extended like an overrun episode, But the anxiety is sleepless, When yesterday approaches, I wrap myself in the ignorance, Homeless, timeless, It grows and defines, Coarses through my fundamental Lapses, A boy becomes an atitude, I wish i had these experiences in youthful insurgencies. Its someday in the week, I lose the raptured schedules, To hunger is life. To thirst is life. The misled winter wraps itself On my frozen life. A faint emergence of time Resumes, There in the shadows I once knew a man, The visions of him asking to feed My souless self. Stretched by insistent graces, In a road of certain contrasts, Gentle into the street, I laugh; the revolving doors, I cry; what or who i never was, A certain kind of grace to be Within the containment, the poor, the  restless, bleeding my facades, Shredding the faces I once knew Destroying my world. Once I sat upon a throne Lost in the decimations, I dont know who I am. Keep walking. Telling myself as the night freezes I will be just fine. Keep walking Telling myself in minced Thoughts as hope flutters against Nowhere to go. Keep walking, The sun rises And blisters on my feet Calm the night as the safety Of day lets me rest. I will bounce back tomorrow, And the streets become a ripened spring fruit, Losing myself And the art of loss Is no disaster, Not unlike losing my keys, Not unlike losing places, Not unlike losing names, Until i reconciled myself At the fork of the river, Losing myself is not an art: The beauty was in finding who I was meant to be.
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Mar 6, 2019
Mar 6, 2019 at 6:09 PM UTC
Homeless, Who I Am
A confinement to the street, I likened it to a bliss of pain. Not extended like an overrun episode, But the anxiety is sleepless, When yesterday approaches, I wrap myself in the ignorance, Homeless, timeless, It grows and defines, Coarses through my fundamental Lapses, A boy becomes an atitude, I wish i had these experiences in youthful insurgencies. Its someday in the week, I lose the raptured schedules, To hunger is life. To thirst is life. The misled winter wraps itself On my frozen life. A faint emergence of time Resumes, There in the shadows I once knew a man, The visions of him asking to feed My souless self. Stretched by insistent graces, In a road of certain contrasts, Gentle into the street, I laugh; the revolving doors, I cry; what or who i never was, A certain kind of grace to be Within the containment, the poor, the  restless, bleeding my facades, Shredding the faces I once knew Destroying my world. Once I sat upon a throne Lost in the decimations, I dont know who I am. Keep walking. Telling myself as the night freezes I will be just fine. Keep walking Telling myself in minced Thoughts as hope flutters against Nowhere to go. Keep walking, The sun rises And blisters on my feet Calm the night as the safety Of day lets me rest. I will bounce back tomorrow, And the streets become a ripened spring fruit, Losing myself And the art of loss Is no disaster, Not unlike losing my keys, Not unlike losing places, Not unlike losing names, Until i reconciled myself At the fork of the river, Losing myself is not an art: The beauty was in finding who I was meant to be.
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62
Here I sit my hands, on top of colorless perfection, Black overlapping white in sweet embrace. My fingers brush the cold, the joyful keys of cool percection, And I’m transported to a heightened place. As music fills my ears and soul, my colorless friend hears me, She reacts gently to each playful pluck. Her body shudders slightly as my hands begin to lead me, Her voice is soft, I hear my deepened luck. I listen in this throne as all the colors drain to darkness, And fair white light seeps through to quicken breaths. But my subtle hands still find her body, reaching through the darkness, My sprinting heartbeat, running fast from death. Her voice grows louder, fuller, as my arms float left and right, Her ivory keys sing truths of love and fear. I listen as my voice conjoins with hers, the pure and righteous, We sing and play in unison through tears. Then friend and lover, secretly, through open-minded cunning, Erupts in pleasure, graceful and with life. Then silence follows, beautifully, and tinged with lifeless cunning, I drink it in, with gray lines in my eyes. My love, my life, lays careful as her body, soft, returns. My fingers- back to stroke her playful keys. She gratefully accepts my hands, I know her heart returns. I feel her smiling joyfully at me. And music coarses through my veins, and coarses through her body, Our love affair concealed by our desires.
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Jan 16, 2012
Jan 16, 2012 at 3:43 PM UTC
A Love Affair
We threw two bottles of hairspray into the fire just to laugh at the expressions on each others' faces when it exploded We sang along to the same **** punk cover songs we've been playin since the seventh grade and chain smoked in the damp grass We said we'd be star gazing tonight but our heads started spinning after the tenth time someone said, "Chug this" And then all the white lights began to blend together, against the black sky creating this peaceful yet dizzying array of light and dark The moon sort of caught your face in the left corner Illuminated your crooked side burns and danced over the long side of your Mohawk It was three AM when the group hugging commenced I said "goodbye" and "I love you" at least twelve times before I meant it... Or before I realized it was my last chance to mean it I've never felt arms so strong squeeze so tight I've never felt a warmth so comforting in the midst of such violent anxiety Your blood, doesn't match mine But your mind, I swear it melts into my eyes, and coarses through my veins some times I'll miss you ***** with every bit of empathy, love & sanity I have left I will miss you until it hurts and then calms and circles back again **Please Don't Let Me** Please Don't Make Me Have To Miss You
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Aug 31, 2013
Aug 31, 2013 at 2:43 AM UTC
The Eve Of My Departure
old coffee coarses through me can’t feel a heartbeat going too quick to pick up a pulse a sign of life a drug yet a luxury -integrity- _prosperity of humanity_ and you have none while you continue to slander my name my _name_ being mentioned in rooms i’ve never stepped in without my control, a once blank canvas would soon be used as a form of blame and through it peace in you- preconceived notions are drawn in the minds of associates and strangers better than an aged painter in the studio he’s only ever known yet this painter is blindfolded while this oblivious painter intently tunes in to sympathize with the selective truths you dispose ‘how could she??’ they say beautiful in an unconventional way for you to teach them what they don’t want to be whilst they choose what to hear words sifted once again like the selection of the finest grain rejects strawn amongst the boulder you were once beautiful a sweet dandelion left to a stem with a rigid bulb at the top not hideous just no longer wished upon unfortunately there’s no lights in this room just brushes sprawled all out on the rug with a ray of sunkissed light coming through the duvets- it’s a bother but you bring it up when others do used to be the highlight of the room but now just something that reluctantly grew on you you want the dark but i only wish light amongst you past lover you continue to lead- incite fine strokes in them for my self portrait for better or worse i refuse to recognize for myself using colors i’d never think you’d use- their masterpiece being guided by your bitter words i blamed myself for an instant- something you’d never do leading me to believe that your heart never was truly pure when i was with you
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Jun 1, 2019
Jun 1, 2019 at 12:10 PM UTC
canvas
old coffee coarses through me can’t feel a heartbeat going too quick to pick up a pulse a sign of life a drug yet a luxury -integrity- _prosperity of humanity_ and you have none while you continue to slander my name my _name_ being mentioned in rooms i’ve never stepped in without my control, a once blank canvas would soon be used as a form of blame and through it peace in you- preconceived notions are drawn in the minds of associates and strangers better than an aged painter in the studio he’s only ever known yet this painter is blindfolded while this oblivious painter intently tunes in to sympathize with the selective truths you dispose ‘how could she??’ they say beautiful in an unconventional way for you to teach them what they don’t want to be whilst they choose what to hear words sifted once again like the selection of the finest grain rejects strawn amongst the boulder you were once beautiful a sweet dandelion left to a stem with a rigid bulb at the top not hideous just no longer wished upon unfortunately there’s no lights in this room just brushes sprawled all out on the rug with a ray of sunkissed light coming through the duvets- it’s a bother but you bring it up when others do used to be the highlight of the room but now just something that reluctantly grew on you you want the dark but i only wish light amongst you past lover you continue to lead- incite fine strokes in them for my self portrait for better or worse i refuse to recognize for myself using colors i’d never think you’d use- their masterpiece being guided by your bitter words i blamed myself for an instant- something you’d never do leading me to believe that your heart never was truly pure when i was with you
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46
As liquid sunlight Slowly coarses through my veins I am enlightened
0
Feb 22, 2013
Feb 22, 2013 at 9:47 PM UTC
Liquid Sunlight
embrace the bruises. embrace the aches that emanate from the surface of your skin. embrace the broken bones that come from the sum of your experience. embrace life's tattoos, the proof that you have used your time; the proof that you didn't just cruise through, unscathed and unafraid. embrace the disease that coarses through your veins; embrace the pain that brought you here today. if we were meant to end, heaven sent without a scrape, don't you think that scars would fade away at day's end?
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Aug 19, 2016
Aug 19, 2016 at 1:36 PM UTC
ache with experience
I cant I cant let you in To this This mess of me Not the best of me I don’t want to **** you in For you to spit yourself out And leave me hanging by a thread Dangling overhead This memorywell If I do let you in No matter how sweet Or kind How understanding You will leave Because that’s what everyone does Why add another burden To a lifetimes list Of things to do Yea You can do me up Chew me up Savor the flavor Spit me out And reach for a new pack Im replaceable Untraceable Wana see a magic trick? **** Gone Like the memory Of how much you loved me Gone Like the winds Which lead me to meet you Gone Because at the fork in the road You split The pressure Behind my eyelids Is swelling Salt water trickles down Softly pattering a rhythm To dance alone to While the pressure Pulsing through my body Coarses rapidly Soon a flood will be released So you can see I cannot let you in No matter how much I want to trust All I can do is sin My nights away So hopefully Ill get another day One is Better than two Or even three You see? Less chaos to keep track of Because the thought of being attached Leaves nowhere for one to run So lets keep it simple Son of a gun With the number one
0
Jun 5, 2011
Jun 5, 2011 at 10:31 PM UTC
one.
i have you say on a day quite like today that your favorite couples you see are not you and me i belive that we mesh together just like the bird and the feather and we shall fly just as high i can see you now, sitting there your hand carresing your hair and day after day it amazes me the beauty that i do see your beauty runs deep through and past your body and out with your every peep it coarses through your complex mind and gives me awe that i have found such a wonderful find i want to hear you say that your favorites are you and i we do mesh together and i am as high as a blazed bird and as you sit ther i wish your hands were mine just so that i be closer to the beauty that is you your beauty runs though you into me making me better, stronger and together we are a wonderful find
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Nov 29, 2011
Nov 29, 2011 at 1:49 AM UTC
if your hands were mine
For Some Reason A Smile Burns Into My Skin, I Love The Feeling Of The Flame My Hands Feel Lighter--No Shackles To Be Found, My Torso Moves To No Particular Song, My Arms Strike The Air With Precision, As The Rhythm Coarses Through My Body, Butterflies Rattle My Bones For No Reason, My Foot Taps From The Churning Adrenaline, Faces Which Plagued My Vision Are Now Friendly, Characters In A Teeter-Tottering Chapter Book, My Heart Beats Quickly--I'm Feeling The Vibe, That Today's Going To Be A Good Day ©SydneyVictoria Feb. 13 2013
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Feb 13, 2013
Feb 13, 2013 at 8:54 AM UTC
Today Is Gonna Be Good