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"completes" poems
Sitting in some car in a forgotten parking lot Grey marks the skies Lush green plants peeping in The wildlife of concrete and paint makes the perfect background For Little ***** of liquid heaven falling on my windscreen And some music to complete the scene Each guitar line synchronises with each raindrop Each blast of power thunder hits hard like heavy metal But the soft clouds, the gentle ebb and flow lull me to sleep Whispering, persuading me to dream But I really don't want to miss this shard of time I never want to lose little moments like these A silver raindrop is born by landing on my car Crash landing, rather The bubbling pocket of mystery travels down Swerving and slamming into other fellow pockets in crime It's life cycle completes when it reaches the bottom It races to it's death, unable to stop gravity's plan for it Each drop morphs into another, making a wave The rain weaves an intricate web of waves All strutting their sparkly magic before me I sense a metaphor for humanity creeping in Millions of crescendos growing about Too concerned with their internal politics to worry about others But I stay focused on the beauty all around I wonder if heaven has rainy days If so, this must be one of them
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Apr 12, 2018
Apr 12, 2018 at 12:28 PM UTC
That Rain Poem
Let me mold my body along your curves; trickle yourself into my entire being *Vulnerable, **** my heart exposed*, palpably we connect across the starry sky; you ... within me I want your intimacy to linger along the edges of my lips hours after you've gone I ache to be consumed by your eyes, intense with emotions, long after the dawn Take me to your intimate chambers where hearts race; the rhythm of our silhouettes melded on satin sheets Leisurely feel your way; a slow descend along the avenue of my rhythmic swell; forgive me of my quivering wanton needs Allow me to graze at the gates of your femininity, drinking the honey from your pink walls; to feel your crowning point between my lips How can I resist those wandering lips that stirs the curtains of my garden alcove; perfectly painted in honey dew, I throb for the touch of your kiss Drape your thighs upon my shoulders; let the waves of satisfaction cascade up your spine I beg to be released, dear God, of this intoxicating spell; I submit myself, heart laid bare; oceans of emotions no longer can I hide. Find your eyes locking with mine; my torso parallels yours, my body pressed to you; equal in ferocity and tenderness Mesmerize by your burning eyes in our melting flesh, so strong your hold; yet so tender your caress Utter our names in fiery moans both whispered and screamed in heated breaths on our solitary night Vile obscenities float out on heated breath, as cool air kiss our molded skin on the evening our time takes flight Take me to your heart & cast away the flesh; allow our souls to weave in the throes of passion as our bodies mix into one; slow-motion ecstasy A longing deep inside, the locked chambers of my soul to exotic places beyond our imaginationsyou sneak into my heart to fulfill my every fantasy  Feed me the lullabies you paint on your canvas; orgiastic symphony we conduct in cascading tides; trembles throughout our bodies when our fluids mix Let me paint upon your heart a ballet of our duet; the crescendo palette of my tide drown you in the spirit of our lyrics Your ripe fruit quivers tenderly while our union completes; take my hands and let me be yours Hold my sated body that tremors from the wake; a union of our souls ensnare a bond secure ~
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Sep 18, 2017
Sep 18, 2017 at 7:34 AM UTC
Tonight is Ours
Let me mold my body along your curves; trickle yourself into my entire being *Vulnerable, **** my heart exposed*, palpably we connect across the starry sky; you ... within me I want your intimacy to linger along the edges of my lips hours after you've gone I ache to be consumed by your eyes, intense with emotions, long after the dawn Take me to your intimate chambers where hearts race; the rhythm of our silhouettes melded on satin sheets Leisurely feel your way; a slow descend along the avenue of my rhythmic swell; forgive me of my quivering wanton needs Allow me to graze at the gates of your femininity, drinking the honey from your pink walls; to feel your crowning point between my lips How can I resist those wandering lips that stirs the curtains of my garden alcove; perfectly painted in honey dew, I throb for the touch of your kiss Drape your thighs upon my shoulders; let the waves of satisfaction cascade up your spine I beg to be released, dear God, of this intoxicating spell; I submit myself, heart laid bare; oceans of emotions no longer can I hide. Find your eyes locking with mine; my torso parallels yours, my body pressed to you; equal in ferocity and tenderness Mesmerize by your burning eyes in our melting flesh, so strong your hold; yet so tender your caress Utter our names in fiery moans both whispered and screamed in heated breaths on our solitary night Vile obscenities float out on heated breath, as cool air kiss our molded skin on the evening our time takes flight Take me to your heart & cast away the flesh; allow our souls to weave in the throes of passion as our bodies mix into one; slow-motion ecstasy A longing deep inside, the locked chambers of my soul to exotic places beyond our imaginationsyou sneak into my heart to fulfill my every fantasy  Feed me the lullabies you paint on your canvas; orgiastic symphony we conduct in cascading tides; trembles throughout our bodies when our fluids mix Let me paint upon your heart a ballet of our duet; the crescendo palette of my tide drown you in the spirit of our lyrics Your ripe fruit quivers tenderly while our union completes; take my hands and let me be yours Hold my sated body that tremors from the wake; a union of our souls ensnare a bond secure ~
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21
I am she Who compliments & completes The dream-lover and wishes Made when he is asleep. I am she Who suffers the most, Giving birth, cradling ghosts, As the crone or maid, (Once and always) Sister, mother, daughter, wife. I am she Who waits through the night. I am she Who equals the strength Of his light. "See me with your loving eyes, See me more than the tears I've cried!" I am she Who is willing To go with him to war, Not a man but as an equal, (I'm both soft yet hard) I am she To whom he'll give his heart I am the tunnel's bright end I am where The family starts, The breast which nurse small men. I am she The twin, The Juliet, The Goddess divine! I am she Who deserves the same in life, and for all time. (Peace be…) I am she I am you I am her I am the one besides And inside She is I… The romance in the dress, Patient Partner to the ends, Tiny dancer on the floor I am The one that loves you Forever & Evermore.
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Dec 1, 2019
Dec 1, 2019 at 10:20 AM UTC
I Am SHE (for Women's Day)
You are who jumpstarts And completes my day And I love how You wake my heart up With a simple "Good morning" And "Hey." You are who soothes my nerves And calms my mind In the morning. You are the warmth That I seek When it starts raining. And you will always be Like my favorite drink When I am happy, down, Or when I can't think. I think... I think I love you The way that I love coffee. Doesn't matter if it is hot, warm, Iced, blended, with milk, without, Sweet, pure, brown, black, bitter, With chocolate or raspberry, Single or double shot, Even decaf. It doesn't matter. I love coffee because It is coffee. And [I think], I love you... Because you are you. You have good days and bad days. And days when you lose control. You are generally sweet and gentle and funny But there are days When your patience wears thin And I see that a lot with you. You have an active mind And a creativity of a five-year-old Your stories blow my mind And are out of this world. Yet there are days when Your stories are sad. And I still love you for that. You are caring and protective of me And loving and genuine and sincere But sometimes you lie And sometimes you hide And your fear of questions, and your paranoia Kind of offends me. And even in days when you could be Like a ticking time bomb Waiting to explode About to lose control Believe me, it doesn't matter. I am willing to take the blow And I would try to defuse you. But even if you hurt me I think... I know... I would still love you. Because you don't love coffee Only when it is sweet. Or creamy. You love coffee if you get to appreciate it In all its bitter glory. And I want you to know... I want to see the best And the worst parts of you. And I know... Even then I will still love you. But I have to remind myself To take it easy. Because I might burn my lips And my tongue From your intensity. But even then... Though it hurts. I will still be able to enjoy you. I know... I have been burned by coffee too.
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Jun 6, 2015
Jun 6, 2015 at 5:57 AM UTC
Coffee
You are who jumpstarts And completes my day And I love how You wake my heart up With a simple "Good morning" And "Hey." You are who soothes my nerves And calms my mind In the morning. You are the warmth That I seek When it starts raining. And you will always be Like my favorite drink When I am happy, down, Or when I can't think. I think... I think I love you The way that I love coffee. Doesn't matter if it is hot, warm, Iced, blended, with milk, without, Sweet, pure, brown, black, bitter, With chocolate or raspberry, Single or double shot, Even decaf. It doesn't matter. I love coffee because It is coffee. And [I think], I love you... Because you are you. You have good days and bad days. And days when you lose control. You are generally sweet and gentle and funny But there are days When your patience wears thin And I see that a lot with you. You have an active mind And a creativity of a five-year-old Your stories blow my mind And are out of this world. Yet there are days when Your stories are sad. And I still love you for that. You are caring and protective of me And loving and genuine and sincere But sometimes you lie And sometimes you hide And your fear of questions, and your paranoia Kind of offends me. And even in days when you could be Like a ticking time bomb Waiting to explode About to lose control Believe me, it doesn't matter. I am willing to take the blow And I would try to defuse you. But even if you hurt me I think... I know... I would still love you. Because you don't love coffee Only when it is sweet. Or creamy. You love coffee if you get to appreciate it In all its bitter glory. And I want you to know... I want to see the best And the worst parts of you. And I know... Even then I will still love you. But I have to remind myself To take it easy. Because I might burn my lips And my tongue From your intensity. But even then... Though it hurts. I will still be able to enjoy you. I know... I have been burned by coffee too.
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81
I ate hot meals, I brushed my teeth day and night, I spent long hours on the mobile with friends, I wore well laundered clothings, Not a single crease or a stain on them, Before motherhood. My home was ***** and span, No stumbling on scattered toys, No ***** window panes, No tiny hands holding my skirts, No one  eagerly waiting for me on the doorsteps, No spits,pukes, pees or poos to clean, No teared  eyes to wipe, No tiny bundle to hold in my arms, Getting love,warmth and satisfaction in return, Before motherhood. I was in control of myself, Of my mind and thoughts, Caretaker of my own body, Spending hours to enhance my beauty, To maintain grace and elegance, Before motherhood. Now I am a mum, I don't mind if my hair is disheveled, My house is a bit messy, I am exhausted, For the reward of a hug, a kiss and those endearing words,"I love you mum,you are the bestest." completes me.
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Dec 8, 2018
Dec 8, 2018 at 3:36 PM UTC
Before Motherhood
I was taught in science that matter and energy cannot be created or destroyed, and is simply manipulated into different forms and transferred to other objets. In Psychology I was taught about the pre-frontal cortex, and how it houses the emotions of the human soul, and about the hippocampus which carefully extracting these emotions into long term memory so they can live forever. I wasn’t taught how these emotions were conserved. I started wondering to myself, where the **** do the emotions one puts into another go? Can emotions be created or destroyed inside the pre-frontal cortex? Or are they simply transferred from mine to yours, which allows you to put effort into someone else, leaving my emotional remnants to manipulate themselves into pain? Am I able to transfer my feelings into your PFC so they can spark a reaction with whats inside and manipulate them into something different? Maybe thats how mutual feelings come about. But would it not work if your necessary reactants have already been transferred elsewhere? I assume my emotions would react with your painful remnants to leave you neutral again, giving you the choice to forget him or feed him a bit more. Then how the **** do the feelings of one change as time goes on? I assume that infatuation never completes its journey to the hippocampus and simply passes through the PFC. But how do emotions get manipulated into something negative after the rare chance that they complete the savage journey to the long term chamber? The intermolecular forces of the bond created between us possibly gets overcome by something more powerful. Something that has been freshly transferred into the PFC of one of the emotional bond carriers; like fear, or the emotional energy of someone new, and she’ll tell him “it wasn’t meant to be” Which explains how you can move on whilst I can’t as my bond is also broken, but without consent, my their emotions to go haywire and destroy my psyche as they’re not bonded to anything. I’m “broken”. Although the intermolecular forces of the emotions inside your PFC have been overcome and manipulated into something new, the old emotional bonds still exist in her hippocampus, as well as his. Emotions will constantly haunt me from there, creating constant relapse as the painful memories are resurrected and transferred back into his PFC. They’ll haunt you too, possibly reacting with your current state to create regret. Either regret of breaking the bonds or forming them in the first place. I’ll reach a neutral state again, and you will have your turn to be broken when emotions from someone else are transferred respectively. But we’ll never forget each other. So i guess love never dies. Only active love. As the emotions in the hippocampus are set in stone whilst that in the PFC are transferred and manipulated, just like matter, and energy. After all, we are just matter, with energy.
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Dec 21, 2014
Dec 21, 2014 at 4:23 AM UTC
Law of Conservation of Emotion
I was taught in science that matter and energy cannot be created or destroyed, and is simply manipulated into different forms and transferred to other objets. In Psychology I was taught about the pre-frontal cortex, and how it houses the emotions of the human soul, and about the hippocampus which carefully extracting these emotions into long term memory so they can live forever. I wasn’t taught how these emotions were conserved. I started wondering to myself, where the **** do the emotions one puts into another go? Can emotions be created or destroyed inside the pre-frontal cortex? Or are they simply transferred from mine to yours, which allows you to put effort into someone else, leaving my emotional remnants to manipulate themselves into pain? Am I able to transfer my feelings into your PFC so they can spark a reaction with whats inside and manipulate them into something different? Maybe thats how mutual feelings come about. But would it not work if your necessary reactants have already been transferred elsewhere? I assume my emotions would react with your painful remnants to leave you neutral again, giving you the choice to forget him or feed him a bit more. Then how the **** do the feelings of one change as time goes on? I assume that infatuation never completes its journey to the hippocampus and simply passes through the PFC. But how do emotions get manipulated into something negative after the rare chance that they complete the savage journey to the long term chamber? The intermolecular forces of the bond created between us possibly gets overcome by something more powerful. Something that has been freshly transferred into the PFC of one of the emotional bond carriers; like fear, or the emotional energy of someone new, and she’ll tell him “it wasn’t meant to be” Which explains how you can move on whilst I can’t as my bond is also broken, but without consent, my their emotions to go haywire and destroy my psyche as they’re not bonded to anything. I’m “broken”. Although the intermolecular forces of the emotions inside your PFC have been overcome and manipulated into something new, the old emotional bonds still exist in her hippocampus, as well as his. Emotions will constantly haunt me from there, creating constant relapse as the painful memories are resurrected and transferred back into his PFC. They’ll haunt you too, possibly reacting with your current state to create regret. Either regret of breaking the bonds or forming them in the first place. I’ll reach a neutral state again, and you will have your turn to be broken when emotions from someone else are transferred respectively. But we’ll never forget each other. So i guess love never dies. Only active love. As the emotions in the hippocampus are set in stone whilst that in the PFC are transferred and manipulated, just like matter, and energy. After all, we are just matter, with energy.
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23
how sad to be misunderstood to be evicted from life to have the full tenure of a torrid human existence gesture horribly at you in faultless reputation like that of a rancid rage over a lost trinket or to be quarantined while fingerless skin scolds and noiseless voices are raised in a donated generosity of savage ignorance striving to make copious amends in vain efforts to regrettable slow acting poison that boils the mind oh how sad to be misunderstood such varicose viciousness oh it’s sad quite sad to be misunderstood to live through and inoculated hour glass giving limitless time to a wildfire of idiocy and when your breath speaks they laugh black laughter that shatters wet umbilical truths shudders knowledge gestures to smoking nostrils oh how sad, how sad it is to be misunderstood to be drenched in the rain but not get wet in which antiquity rests with its mythologised stupendous ill effects getting vivid shadows massed all around oh how sad it is to be misunderstood until dactylic, hexameter, elegance completes and slithering syllables by their antiquity focus a shuddering shriek that sends an exploding heart through your chest
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Oct 3, 2013
Oct 3, 2013 at 4:56 PM UTC
how sad to be misunderstood
I feel like he was created just for me. I think im holding hands with Destiny. He Encourages me to be The Woman The Father has presdestined me to be. Hes like a dream given unto me. He sees straight thru me like he can hear my thoughts telephatically. Got me fiening for him like jodeci Plunging into the depths of his soul's love as I enjoy The journey of his story.... Hes The Instructor of love and Im the student thinking critically. He has left An impact on my life tremedously..... Im drowning in his love ever so endlessly. He is Waves from the oceans currents of pure bliss And I......I am his ocean shore that his waters of love kiss. He's like a precious treaure I have discovered. Unlocking the chest to look inside and see what I have uncovered. Im happy for what I have found Hes A King worthy of Sparkling crown. I wish I could wear his love Like a White Flowing Wedding Gown. I feel he completes me like a sentence Yah is the subject, He's the predicate and im the noun. With his words he painted a vivid picture of me Its a picture with definition, depth, and clarity. Its almost like he captured every little detail so Carefully. As if I were an image of an angel made so Heavenly. Apparently, In his eyes Im a portrait crafted very delicately. A beauty constructed with integrity. Sparkling like the waters of the deep blue sea. To Be held in The Artistic nature of his Creativity Is a Wonderful sight to see With his poetry I see The illustration of his spiritual Imagery I caressed the Compassion of his vibes that discerned The ambience of his Frequency. His Energy Sweetly Speaks so pleasntly His Diction shows me his style Musically. His wisdom shows the level of his Maturity And it makes me drawn to him as if Its a force was pulling me closer into his gravity Ill admit this experience is kind of scary But My lovely Beautiful Mahogany theres no place I rather be than with you standing by my side next to me. Feeling as if I am Soaring like a bird so Free. He Surely bring out the Best characteristics of me. I Believe Im Subconsciously holding hands with destiny #destiny #serendipity #Love #beauty
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Dec 28, 2016
Dec 28, 2016 at 12:59 AM UTC
Holding hands with Destiny
I feel like he was created just for me. I think im holding hands with Destiny. He Encourages me to be The Woman The Father has presdestined me to be. Hes like a dream given unto me. He sees straight thru me like he can hear my thoughts telephatically. Got me fiening for him like jodeci Plunging into the depths of his soul's love as I enjoy The journey of his story.... Hes The Instructor of love and Im the student thinking critically. He has left An impact on my life tremedously..... Im drowning in his love ever so endlessly. He is Waves from the oceans currents of pure bliss And I......I am his ocean shore that his waters of love kiss. He's like a precious treaure I have discovered. Unlocking the chest to look inside and see what I have uncovered. Im happy for what I have found Hes A King worthy of Sparkling crown. I wish I could wear his love Like a White Flowing Wedding Gown. I feel he completes me like a sentence Yah is the subject, He's the predicate and im the noun. With his words he painted a vivid picture of me Its a picture with definition, depth, and clarity. Its almost like he captured every little detail so Carefully. As if I were an image of an angel made so Heavenly. Apparently, In his eyes Im a portrait crafted very delicately. A beauty constructed with integrity. Sparkling like the waters of the deep blue sea. To Be held in The Artistic nature of his Creativity Is a Wonderful sight to see With his poetry I see The illustration of his spiritual Imagery I caressed the Compassion of his vibes that discerned The ambience of his Frequency. His Energy Sweetly Speaks so pleasntly His Diction shows me his style Musically. His wisdom shows the level of his Maturity And it makes me drawn to him as if Its a force was pulling me closer into his gravity Ill admit this experience is kind of scary But My lovely Beautiful Mahogany theres no place I rather be than with you standing by my side next to me. Feeling as if I am Soaring like a bird so Free. He Surely bring out the Best characteristics of me. I Believe Im Subconsciously holding hands with destiny #destiny #serendipity #Love #beauty
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42
*Tybee , the Masters sonata of wind , crashing wave , sand and tide , Alpha and Omega of rippling current , mighty Savannah River completes her southern journey here .. As Sailor , ****** and maritime entrepreneur , embark , having left the security of her shore into the mighty , unforgiving Atlantic , her Lighthouse , a living testament to sacrifice , safe return to port as well as those forever lost at sea*
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Sep 25, 2015
Sep 25, 2015 at 4:31 PM UTC
Tybee Lighthouse
Cooking is The mastery of intuition It is knowing, smelling, tasting perfection Before the simmering soup completes its wearisome journey It’s love
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Sep 22, 2021
Sep 22, 2021 at 6:40 PM UTC
Cooking
the culture club mix-tape section from nylon magazine completes me. sometimes I don’t feel like capitalizing the first letter to the first word of a new sentence. feelings can be so useless sometimes. I use the word sometimes too much. I think I am in love with Keaton Henson. I think I have a crush on one of my co-workers. I’d rather have a crush than be in love with you, it’ll last a while longer that way. I like coffee mugs, they are so comfortable to drink out of, they make me feel safe. I like it better when you’re warm, I want to give you warm feelings. I remember this one time I wrote the saddest poem I've ever written during one of the saddest points in my life, I sat there with legs crossed on the cold ground of a dim hallway on the third floor of the humanities building at school. It was on a yellow blue-lined sheet of paper, I folded it in three, I left it there anonymously and fled. I’ll never know who found that piece of me, perhaps no one ever did. every day is another year. I’m sorry, I always end up writing too much. I’m sorry, for being quite a crap person sometimes, truly I am. There are many things I’ll live to be sorry about, but I've no fault for the words inside of my head. All tomorrow’s parties are dead. Listen to The Babies all night with me instead. Oh darling, save a place for me in your heart.
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Jan 9, 2014
Jan 9, 2014 at 3:19 AM UTC
c l u t t e r
The arrival of the night on distant shores, completes the cycle of relentless waning hours; In circular repeat of day's end glories, we softly whisper life's reflective stories. With moonlit skies as constant company, our feelings caught in wondrous reverie; And love is but a boastful source of care, when suddenly the sky grows dark and bare. But in the swirling essence of the night, we set about to make our memories right; In tossing sway the rumbles of the waves, allow us to submit to what we've craved. Approaching dawn with sunlight from above, finally satiated by passion's whirlwind love; Our shadows fall like twins upon the beach, as knowing smiles creep gently 'cross our cheeks.
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Nov 11, 2016
Nov 11, 2016 at 1:55 PM UTC
Silhouettes on Sand
an oval antique photograph from the century just passed six youthful brothers must be sunday dressed exuding life and promise facing forward all in line symmetry pervading sister mary in their center on the photos right a startling recognition an image seen before colins great grandfather raymond often ray in features and a gaze seemed as colin would have stood photo has a crease fading but still clear now with photos recent privileged to compare colin next to ray both fully present yet a gaze away rays gaze anticipating army time in paris fortune seeking in the west fortunes to be found four generations branching to colin and beyond colins gaze capturing a journey now beginning does he see montana paris or the stars repeating patterns forward reflect photographic truth music completes the pattern with colorings of sound rays trumpet and harmonica introducing a guitar which colin has absorbed thus in his confirmation new dimensions now foreseen confirming four generations reflecting many more expanding light and love carrying our gratitude for the glimpse an old photograph favored us to find (poem written for my grandson's confirmation....)
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May 9, 2012
May 9, 2012 at 12:38 PM UTC
confirmation
You look so beautiful in this light, the stars bring out your eyes. You look so wonderful tonight, let the moon heal those past lies. If I could write a story about you, babe It would be the best of kind. A princess who needs one simple kiss, to realize what true love feels like. Let the melody of my piano sooth you and my voice help clear your mind Let our love become eternal like this flame As our two hearts forever intertwine. I would chase you for a thousand years No woman like this can be found again You are the love that completes my soul You are my best friend. Cry on me when life grows tough Hold my hand to never feel alone, Hold on to me when your heart has grown tired & given up I promise to carry you home. Finding love isn't easy But we cross our fingers for luck Breaking free from our past maybe hard But that one person can release our hearts when they're stuck Give a chance to embrace all it brings and allow yourself to love God send me an angel who can heal my broken heart and show me the meaning of true love.
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Apr 11, 2015
Apr 11, 2015 at 11:17 PM UTC
The idea of "true love"
We set out from our homes With aspirations bright A bag pack of skills And a sceptre of perfection A potion of blessings To keep company We are complete. Through the low nights And during the blazing noons, Through the hard needles of showers, Until we reach the land of flowers, We unravel Secrets of the deep and the dark We gain and yet sometimes loose We fathom Through the layers wise And make our axioms On a quiet night however, When we plunge in retrospection A star shines bright Connecting and completing the picture We are but one glowing dot from the many And the canvass completes With the treasure of family lineage All encompassing and strengthening A synecdoche of life.
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Jan 10, 2013
Jan 10, 2013 at 7:44 AM UTC
Synecdoche
Once again feeling lost and so alone Time has passed and I thought I had only grown I can't escape the past that seems to haunt my soul I can't find a better half that completes me and makes me whole It's just me, myself and I, trying to make it in a cold world People looking down on me thinking I'm just an ignorant little girl Everyone so judgmental because of all the lies you told This feeling of being worthless I can't shake off and it's getting old Let's make it clear I didn't steal from you, that's not how I spend my time I simply just took back what was already mine So stomp on me and try to dispose of the person I am inside It's only going to make me ignite my flame and I'm going to shine Bring light to the evil coldness of your frozen heart Keep trying, I'm binding myself and all the pieces because I won't stay torn apart I can fix myself and the damage you've done within I'm a fighter and I'll keep on fighting because I know I have to win I need to be myself, all of the beauty and darkness that I am will stay til there til the end I'm in the world to make my mark and I can do without a friend In pieces now but with just myself, the only one I trust I can handle the reconstruction For I am not a daughter a sister a niece or a cousin, I'm simply the product of reproduction
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Feb 5, 2014
Feb 5, 2014 at 9:41 PM UTC
I'm simply the product of reproduction
I hadn't heard from you in months. I thought about you every day. No joke I though about if you were think about me as much as I was of you.I wanted to hear your voice, see your smile, be with you once more but then yesterday came along. I got your message "hey" unknown number "who is this?" "who do you think?"" "I dunno" "Juana" woah woah woah woah JUANA?!?!?!?! Its been a year! JUANA!?!?! I almost cried. I wanted to leap for joy. You can't understand, she was...is my best friend. She completes me as a person. My best friend reunited with me. Oh my ******* god. So exciting. Juana, thank you its so nice to have you back
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May 18, 2016
May 18, 2016 at 12:41 PM UTC
texting joy
*Movements become sensual while we dance I am feeding my addiction again Consistent eye contact creates a trance Intoxicating escapes will begin Our bodies act as if we are alone My fingertips gently touching your cheek Physical neediness is what I've shown Sexua1 tension I actively seek A continual hunger consumes me I ache for clothing to cover the floor Ice completes my gratification plea As emotions are chosen to ignore Ero+ic pleasure occupies my mind Fighting the love my heart attempts to find* © Christopher Chronister. All rights reserved.
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Jun 1, 2015
Jun 1, 2015 at 3:49 PM UTC
"My Healing Process" a sonnet
The time will come Where my words will forever remain as unforbidden memories Left by those that remember me from our legacy in creation. Wielding the pen is a concept a complex human as myself will never achieve the skill-set to master. It's a calling for me to wield justice and harmony My time to equip the sword, will be my destiny soon. I'm not afraid of the battle ahead. I have slayed demons stronger than my own Fought against my alter ego and argued with my conscious for answers Witnessed guardian angels endure tragic falls. _The pen is mightier than the sword_ _The sword completes the point and cuts down the objective differently_ _I am not afraid to die protecting the world I love_ _It's all a cost for new age peace & awakening on the other side_ _I will not continue a cycle of hatred!_ _ I love every part of you and it's worth fighting for_
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Jul 29, 2022
Jul 29, 2022 at 8:28 AM UTC
The Pen & The Sword
I’d craft you a poem, yet words may fall short, To capture the joy, the laughter, the rapport. The very essence of what sets you apart, The moment we met, the joy in my heart. Instead, gaze upon the night's starlit design, Connect the dots, the constellations align. A grand spectacle, yet a void unseen, A tapestry incomplete, until you intervened. Stand amidst the cosmos, in lunar glow, The missing piece, the truth starts to show. By now, you must surely know, How your presence completes this poem I bestow.
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Apr 20, 2024
Apr 20, 2024 at 4:52 PM UTC
Lalin
& tomorrow morning while she opens her eyes, kiss her neck to make sure she wakes up with a smile. Don’t get up & cook her a fancy breakfast that she’ll only eat half of, instead lay there & play with her hand as the sun rays bright up the room. As the smell of her skin enlightens your life. Despite of how much she criticizes her hands, let her see how much of a perfect fit they are for yours. Of how after long days of sailing her hands are the lighthouse your boat will always follow in search of home. Play with her hair until she falls back asleep & listen to her heartbeat, watch her dream. & while she’s slipping away from the world tell her everything. Of how you at times miss her even after just seeing her. Of how you melt every time she says your name. Of how every letter to hers has become everything to you. Of how she completes you. Tell her how you bruised your knuckles in breaking your walls to have her come in & sat there for days & watched them bleed out every bit of doubt yet you never emptied them out. How you refused to show her fearing she’d hurt in trying to fix them & realizing she couldn’t heal all of me. But tell her she was always enough for me. Tell her 10 or 40 years from now while wheelchair shopping, I’ll still look at her & feel the world stop. How I’ll always carry a piece of her & how she’ll always have a hug saved with me.
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Aug 1, 2013
Aug 1, 2013 at 2:42 AM UTC
Hug
The first puncture Makes me beg for more and more You literally give me colours Everytime you get into this skin They said that you are impenetrable But this is me trying To be skin deep with you You should know by now that im restless and nothing's stopping me now It's the small wounds and the colours You touch me little by little and drop by drop It completes the art i want to have in me I dont do tattoo baby But i got your name inked all over my heart
0
Oct 17, 2018
Oct 17, 2018 at 5:54 AM UTC
Ink
*I can love ya girl Nothing will change, No one can stop us I'm the one you can always trust Imma love this girl She completes me. I'm the drug thru her veins Baby, fight through the pain Imma fulfill her desire Enhance her passionate dreams Her kiss makes me weak Her body is my need He may be right now But I'm all you need I hate liking a crush.. Cause they always end up... Being make believe.* -Dougie simps
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Oct 5, 2013
Oct 5, 2013 at 12:30 AM UTC
"Crush"
You are a gerund. I am a verb. Talking behind their backs Will not solve our problems. I opened the door and spoke. I asked them to be quiet. Standing behind me, Like the mouse you are, You pretended to want action. I am action. You are a gerund. I am a verb. Action leaps out of me Like a plastic snake On a loaded spring. You were talking about a solution. I wrote, I spoke, I developed a plan. Thinking about action, Wishing and praying For a conclusion was all You came close to. But stories are not written Through inaction. One well placed verb Conquers a dozen nouns And completes the sentence,
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May 20, 2012
May 20, 2012 at 10:00 AM UTC
Grammar for Life