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"condole" poems
*i saw you i saw your fiery eyes it was like looking into a cup  unstoppably filling up to its brim yours, abundantly filled with vehement grim so uneasy it was conjecturing your mind gave me a reason to unwind for a little while tell my why all the pretends and quiet sighs, enshrouding whats from behind what it is there inside why do you need to hide thy precious heart with no choice but to turn itself into an agitated smoldered iron strengthened  heart, furnished like art you are a burning metal amenably hammered by many foes far more drowned with the empty souls where are you, where is the real you how did your soul turn so blue let me condole drilling poles amidst the cold rendering you a hand and something to hold I will find yours along with all the lost long hoarfrost waiting to be accost along with the alley of souls growling down the holes in line, next to mine unleash a shine, your spirit so divine let your caliginosity be replaced all be thy grace shall be embraced this time, fearlessly without minds controlling slavery cutting the negativity and ignoring life's declivity see yourself walking through the flame no more lames without the shame and doubt getting burnt stepping on with something learnt now you are changed, well-transformed, someone born to aspire,  died meant to inspire, honey you are retrofire, firing in the night sky but not as heaping as an empty pyre but as fierce as an enraging forest fire*
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Jan 28, 2017
Jan 28, 2017 at 9:39 AM UTC
Alley of Souls
There is a little waiting room On the second floor Where he sits, the groom Intently watching the door. Being late for your wedding Doesn't seem so awful now The news that he is dreading, But - it's time for the vows. Rain rain go away, why did you take his bride today. Rain rain, return here not. For she is gone, now he will rot. A slow slow pain, consumes his soul. What a bad bad game, he's lost control. Vein. Pistol. Train. Condole.
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Apr 1, 2013
Apr 1, 2013 at 12:21 PM UTC
The Waiting Room of a Bride and Groom
By: Cedric McClester I take a flu shot each and every year And I had a pneumonia vaccine so I didn’t fear Guess that’s why my *** wasn’t in gear When the symptoms initially began to appear I relied on RobiTussin instead And wound up being a day from dead When the ambulance was called I was code red We’re off to Lenox Hill Hospital the driver said Caught a bad case of pneumonia Weeks before the Coronavirus hit Which was something I thought that I couldn’t get And it really had me feeling like a piece of **** But I was lucky I have to admit As I lie there struggling to catch my breath The hospital had plenty of ventilators left No need to condole or to be bereft My family gathered in intensive care To the person they were acutely aware That I didn’t have a lot of time to spare Which gave them all a great big scare But I told the woman in my life That I would make it, see she was my wife So she allowed the doctors to intubate me That’s why today I’m pneumonia free For a while it was a crap shoot I must confess When my temperature went up I became a hot mess But the nurses and doctors were among the best So they induced a coma so I wouldn’t digress My chances of survival were a mere 50/50 And that kind of diagnosis just isn’t nifty It was only when they decided to shift me From the ICU that I began to heal swiftly Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2020. All rights reserved.
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Apr 10, 2020
Apr 10, 2020 at 9:18 PM UTC
A BAD CASE OF PNEUMONIA
From the eyes of a nobody, Wits of a deranged, I speak reality, though not clearly, That one like you be saved. If sympathy is what you seek, Seek not to strain your soul; Though you do not feel at world's peak, I will do nothing but condole. I have been where you are today, And, frankly, have never left; I had mistaken that the right thing was to lead astray, Now I missed Love's theft. A cluster of words, Seems meaningless to some; I do not aim to be absurd, I just wish to conjure a soothing hum. I have never known you, Nor have seen you, even once; I merely tell that , even you are not my ou, You're not alone in these wretched runs. In time you will ease, Even the darkest of your fears. And you will earn peace, After the myriad of tears. I am but a stranger, Yet I feel the same as you, We will battle the Alleger, We will battle like we all do. Dear Fallen One, I hope you can read this, And get what I transpire; Don't worry if they won't stop the hiss, Because one day, they will tire.
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Apr 8, 2016
Apr 8, 2016 at 11:04 PM UTC
Sympathy to Recover
Gone are the days, Of disobedience and innocence. Gone are the days of, an- Instrumental violence.   Morning to the silky soul, And to the shadowing shades of impermanence. Morning to the dewy doses, Of painting all accidents. Long out to the zenith, Of red bridges, and bluish seas, Like a rolling stone troubled all alone, To Bleed a maze of moss and broken violins. But a mundane mourning for the silky soul, And there are, Some adjectives to condole. These parts of an analogous appearance, And moving along with, some blessed rings of smoke, A glassy, grassy stairway to the Vincent skies, To the blinky stars, and stormy tales, Moving alone, But All alone, with fairy grooves and blooming dales!
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Aug 21, 2017
Aug 21, 2017 at 7:50 AM UTC
Rusty bicycles.
How many hearts will cause a man to fume How many heats must be enraged with fire How many hearts will a hungry soul consume How many hearts actually follow their life's desire How many hearts are frozen without a beat How many hearts are left buried in the cold How many hearts except total utter defeat How many hearts never take off the blindfold These questions we may never know until we are the lost wandering souls in the Styx's black meadow while loved ones are left to condole
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Aug 20, 2018
Aug 20, 2018 at 2:50 PM UTC
How Many Hearts
When at this seemingly great crossroads I stand Searching for a martyr to bare his splendid hand, I devolve and degenerate into The unspeakable horrors of my mental dynamo. The unsuspecting spills and splatters Devour that cone of momentous light, Butchering all the words that matter, Fleeting soldiers too broken for a fight. I saw you yesterday, Epitome of peace, Eradicator of dismay, My inner eye, my soul, Filled to the brim with condole You have revealed to me the Universe in Verse. Darling, don’t call yourself a loathsome ***** You’re the divine medium that enables God and I to converse. It’s been a while since, My sanity has returned and Its absence Irrigates the dusty landscapes of the dark. The ebb, the tide, the seawall stark Look fertile enough to dissolve away, All our nubile tears and allay, What the telephone or the text message Couldn’t say. When sleep crept under my skin, Like a poison numbing our love with a grin, Bereaved of my lover I lay defeated. A solitary portrayal, bared yet conceited. The evening had caused us to erupt, Into a familiar wrath, abrupt. Your poetry was a magnificent, glorious attempt, To conciliate the dissent, And ameliorate the contempt. In me you will find Mother, daughter, child and mistress, A juvenile delinquent, An occasional temptress. In all these disguises, all these identities, You will never discover the fragilities, Of a heart broken by You. Forgiveness is what you sell to the demure For a will to live and the courage to endure. It wasn’t a cone of light, You see, But a shadowy star concealing its might. In the dark room that had filled my mouth, You ushered like a beacon from the south, Resplendent in the innocent purity of existence, You stripped me of my need for defense, The morning saw nothing but joy and peace. Your lovely face, and My eyes appeased.
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Feb 22, 2018
Feb 22, 2018 at 11:21 PM UTC
A Poem for Peace-Making
When at this seemingly great crossroads I stand Searching for a martyr to bare his splendid hand, I devolve and degenerate into The unspeakable horrors of my mental dynamo. The unsuspecting spills and splatters Devour that cone of momentous light, Butchering all the words that matter, Fleeting soldiers too broken for a fight. I saw you yesterday, Epitome of peace, Eradicator of dismay, My inner eye, my soul, Filled to the brim with condole You have revealed to me the Universe in Verse. Darling, don’t call yourself a loathsome ***** You’re the divine medium that enables God and I to converse. It’s been a while since, My sanity has returned and Its absence Irrigates the dusty landscapes of the dark. The ebb, the tide, the seawall stark Look fertile enough to dissolve away, All our nubile tears and allay, What the telephone or the text message Couldn’t say. When sleep crept under my skin, Like a poison numbing our love with a grin, Bereaved of my lover I lay defeated. A solitary portrayal, bared yet conceited. The evening had caused us to erupt, Into a familiar wrath, abrupt. Your poetry was a magnificent, glorious attempt, To conciliate the dissent, And ameliorate the contempt. In me you will find Mother, daughter, child and mistress, A juvenile delinquent, An occasional temptress. In all these disguises, all these identities, You will never discover the fragilities, Of a heart broken by You. Forgiveness is what you sell to the demure For a will to live and the courage to endure. It wasn’t a cone of light, You see, But a shadowy star concealing its might. In the dark room that had filled my mouth, You ushered like a beacon from the south, Resplendent in the innocent purity of existence, You stripped me of my need for defense, The morning saw nothing but joy and peace. Your lovely face, and My eyes appeased.
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I made a pledge last year, Now I condole you on my behalf, For I have shunned every word you said. I was ignorant of you, But now that you have gone, I see the odds of the situation. I feel a pang of guilt, For banishing your entry, To set foot in my Temple. It is I who personally send my regards, For I have now learned of your worth, My hunger for money has fled. I see my self in repentance, Of not having to see you, Please forgive me for I have failed you.
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Sep 14, 2015
Sep 14, 2015 at 7:04 AM UTC
A random poem
If we were to be God, how would we feel To provide the ones who curse you with a meal To endlessly persuade your creature to turn a new But even if they do, they'll still hurt and depart you If I were to be God, I would be heartbroken Because I can't condole humans leaving me hurting To always believe their false promises to change And when asked to redeem it, they'll be looking at me strange God does his best to make us happy He gives us back our conscience and leads us to recovery Just so we acknowledge his presence So well call on him whenever we experience tense All He ask is for us to have other in mind in whatever me do He doesn't care about your religion so long your faith is true. We tell God we'll change a million times but never do it Apologies don't mean a thing if you don't ever fix it
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Dec 18, 2020
Dec 18, 2020 at 11:56 PM UTC
To Be God