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"consequent" poems
walking through the woods i was surrounded by a plethora of golden bronze amber leaves tumbling in the wind sparkling with a star fire that evanesced from their jagged edges upon their descent.  i stood entranced, mesmerized, utterly hypnotized by their glorious magnificence.  i observed with intensity as a golden bronze amber leaf never having been attached to the majestic tree had no need to let go but gently released.  feeling no trepidation it wholly lacked desire for manipulation to control the forces of the wind.  i watched in awe and wonder realizing that it never disengaged from the tree knowing that separation is an illusion; it simply became the wind.  whirling it shimmered in the autumn sun as it wafted with no need for reins allowing its destination to unfold.  gingerly cascading it settled tenderly on the ground resting comfortably in ambivalence.  i sensed it did not cringe when it was picked up by an unsuspecting boot but intuitively knew immediately that it was being carried and dropped off serendipitously at an auspicious location.  i listened to it intently and drank in its essence as it simply lay in being not obsessing over what would happen consequent but sat in sheer stillness seemingly encompassing all totality.  i was stunned to see that it lingered without judgment in undivided clarity for what wild synchronicity would come.  it quenched its thirst in mystery while being completely at home in uncertainty.  the golden bronze amber leaf seemed one with all that is while simultaneously retaining awareness of self-perception.  as a gentle gust of wind coalesced with the beige fall sky it literally merged with the momentum enjoying the ride to its perfect destination.  with delicacy it rested cozily in ambiguity whispering to me that heaven is a state and not a place.  i vow surrender to black and white existence pledging fearlessly to climb higher creating life with vivid vibrancy adding golden bronze amber to my palette of colors with which i’ll paint. ©2016 janetaylor
0
May 11, 2016
May 11, 2016 at 5:37 PM UTC
golden bronze amber
walking through the woods i was surrounded by a plethora of golden bronze amber leaves tumbling in the wind sparkling with a star fire that evanesced from their jagged edges upon their descent.  i stood entranced, mesmerized, utterly hypnotized by their glorious magnificence.  i observed with intensity as a golden bronze amber leaf never having been attached to the majestic tree had no need to let go but gently released.  feeling no trepidation it wholly lacked desire for manipulation to control the forces of the wind.  i watched in awe and wonder realizing that it never disengaged from the tree knowing that separation is an illusion; it simply became the wind.  whirling it shimmered in the autumn sun as it wafted with no need for reins allowing its destination to unfold.  gingerly cascading it settled tenderly on the ground resting comfortably in ambivalence.  i sensed it did not cringe when it was picked up by an unsuspecting boot but intuitively knew immediately that it was being carried and dropped off serendipitously at an auspicious location.  i listened to it intently and drank in its essence as it simply lay in being not obsessing over what would happen consequent but sat in sheer stillness seemingly encompassing all totality.  i was stunned to see that it lingered without judgment in undivided clarity for what wild synchronicity would come.  it quenched its thirst in mystery while being completely at home in uncertainty.  the golden bronze amber leaf seemed one with all that is while simultaneously retaining awareness of self-perception.  as a gentle gust of wind coalesced with the beige fall sky it literally merged with the momentum enjoying the ride to its perfect destination.  with delicacy it rested cozily in ambiguity whispering to me that heaven is a state and not a place.  i vow surrender to black and white existence pledging fearlessly to climb higher creating life with vivid vibrancy adding golden bronze amber to my palette of colors with which i’ll paint. ©2016 janetaylor
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2
Anything you said is consequent to other declamation . but i thought is symmetric to our own reflection . our declaring prelude the inmost extend of our action . with all but grim and glee of necessary life partition . learn how to hold your tongue or you may dull your mission . so let our thought have weight upon any of our every eruption . cause morrow Sophist will dart light upon all our conclusion . and for our name's sake let the blaze glow to its fullest elevation . here and there ; nothing but cheap hick town pluck delusion . phenomenon to blame and frail wont reach at any situation . side-long-way , matter of rear pie but notwithstanding altercation . the sage nut is not the one that proffers at all event ; citations . but measure with all time honored a thought irreversible as motion .
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Aug 3, 2015
Aug 3, 2015 at 1:32 PM UTC
WATCH OUT !!!
I do not know you, but I feel you are a very dear friend of mine... I'm certain In some time I have turned to address you. Even shared my intimate thoughts... But in this reality you are just a teenage girl wearing a black toque and a flowing coat Stood silent and alone, waiting for the train. Our worlds may never even intersect beyond this moment...           May never share any consequent interest past this single interaction But I'd like to believe in the future if our paths were to cross again that you would see me... And when you did, you would simply know that we were once friends .
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Feb 17, 2015
Feb 17, 2015 at 8:21 PM UTC
In Passing
He is ancient steadfast I am sure he was here when the world was created I am sure he will be here when it ends His gentle face carved with hard lines He poured forth knowledge in his native Persian tongue He called me Shohre I learned it was his sister's name He looked at me like a granddaughter and treated me just as sweet “Ghabl az enghalab...” Before the revolution... After which would follow painful reminiscing of The days before the current regime When wine bubbled out from Shiraz Men and women danced late into the night And soft voices wove love songs in street cafes “Ghabl az enghalab moalem dar daneshgah boodam.” Before the revolution I was a university professor. “Yeki az daneshjooyanam Ahmedinejad bood.” One of my students was Ahmedinejad. And in English, clear as hate, “He was a ******* One night I stayed back for extra lessons We ate cherries from Costco and Read excerpts from his autobiography Pages crafted from right to left, vignettes of His military service in Mashhad And consequent teaching career “Ba'ad az enghalab...” After the revolution... Was always followed with war stories Political dissidents lost to Evin prison Sharia law imposed on moderate minds Escaping Iran by night with a phony visa “Ba'ad az enghalab dar ketabkhane bayad kar konam” After the revolution I had to work in the library. “Khoastam yad bedahm, pas man o zanam be Amrika raftim.” I wanted to teach, so my wife and I came to America. He has not been home since 1981. On December third of 2009 he walked smugly into the classroom Setting a tape player happily on a desk. He opened a folder from right to left Produced a well-worn cassette And played Happy Birthday, in Persian, for me. He smiled at me with hands folded throughout the song As I’d imagine he had smiled at All the other special women in his life named Shohre. He never played Happy Birthday for any of the other students. Or gave them cherries, Or went to their weddings, Or held them while they cried when their grandfather died. I do not know what he saw in me But in each other we found family years and miles away from home.
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Jun 18, 2013
Jun 18, 2013 at 5:37 PM UTC
Aghayeh Roobakhsh
He is ancient steadfast I am sure he was here when the world was created I am sure he will be here when it ends His gentle face carved with hard lines He poured forth knowledge in his native Persian tongue He called me Shohre I learned it was his sister's name He looked at me like a granddaughter and treated me just as sweet “Ghabl az enghalab...” Before the revolution... After which would follow painful reminiscing of The days before the current regime When wine bubbled out from Shiraz Men and women danced late into the night And soft voices wove love songs in street cafes “Ghabl az enghalab moalem dar daneshgah boodam.” Before the revolution I was a university professor. “Yeki az daneshjooyanam Ahmedinejad bood.” One of my students was Ahmedinejad. And in English, clear as hate, “He was a ******* One night I stayed back for extra lessons We ate cherries from Costco and Read excerpts from his autobiography Pages crafted from right to left, vignettes of His military service in Mashhad And consequent teaching career “Ba'ad az enghalab...” After the revolution... Was always followed with war stories Political dissidents lost to Evin prison Sharia law imposed on moderate minds Escaping Iran by night with a phony visa “Ba'ad az enghalab dar ketabkhane bayad kar konam” After the revolution I had to work in the library. “Khoastam yad bedahm, pas man o zanam be Amrika raftim.” I wanted to teach, so my wife and I came to America. He has not been home since 1981. On December third of 2009 he walked smugly into the classroom Setting a tape player happily on a desk. He opened a folder from right to left Produced a well-worn cassette And played Happy Birthday, in Persian, for me. He smiled at me with hands folded throughout the song As I’d imagine he had smiled at All the other special women in his life named Shohre. He never played Happy Birthday for any of the other students. Or gave them cherries, Or went to their weddings, Or held them while they cried when their grandfather died. I do not know what he saw in me But in each other we found family years and miles away from home.
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52
an untoward event born a thought dominant caused the feelings consequent provoked the emotions remnant unexpressed, set in a trench dormant wrapped in the dark, was the content drenched with the tears vehement with passing time it got ferment spread an unwanted scent toxify the environment an untoward event
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Sep 11, 2018
Sep 11, 2018 at 1:59 PM UTC
An event
**There was a part of me that thought this Could go on till infinity A part that wanted to stay locked in your arms There was a part that believed we'd always find answers To always mend the cracks and keep enjoying the charms There was that part that kept hoping above all hopes That the heartbeat of our affection never stops That part that endured the thorns of roses And your conundrumous tantrums in doses One that wished we wouldn't run out of second chances It was responsible for all those backward glances There was a part that believed would keep reigniting the spark No matter how cold the shoulders you gave us** *But then there was another that saw darkness in our spark An end in our start,pain in our gain And fatal loneliness in our company That at her inception our love had died There was that part that felt how breathless we were One that saw us on feeders even while still on tar A side that always knew we wouldn't last A side I loathed and didn't trust One that prophesied like all metals so would our passion rust No matter how strong we believed that ours true it was However hard we evaded the looming wars* And now there's this part, that sends voices Through the cracks in the scanty shards Consequent to your goodbye and other choices That still believes in us,this part says we have to try That even if it makes us cry what are tears but a colourlessness liquid that will dry? This part wants another journey with you This part doesn't know Alphabet, it places I right next to you This part sounds quite convincing I think all along you've been the something missing Precedent to the hollow emptiness in my heart Come back, let's hurt each other again After all even apart I'm lonely and it drives me insane And I get more mad seeing you wallow in the mire of pain Maybe hurt is a constant but we can introduce variables to outweigh the aches Come back,stop asking why it all went wrong We will never know, maybe we was too weak or strong Can't stand my mind saying you're my Exe While another part of me thinks you a part of me
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Jan 21, 2016
Jan 21, 2016 at 11:49 PM UTC
A PART OF ME
**There was a part of me that thought this Could go on till infinity A part that wanted to stay locked in your arms There was a part that believed we'd always find answers To always mend the cracks and keep enjoying the charms There was that part that kept hoping above all hopes That the heartbeat of our affection never stops That part that endured the thorns of roses And your conundrumous tantrums in doses One that wished we wouldn't run out of second chances It was responsible for all those backward glances There was a part that believed would keep reigniting the spark No matter how cold the shoulders you gave us** *But then there was another that saw darkness in our spark An end in our start,pain in our gain And fatal loneliness in our company That at her inception our love had died There was that part that felt how breathless we were One that saw us on feeders even while still on tar A side that always knew we wouldn't last A side I loathed and didn't trust One that prophesied like all metals so would our passion rust No matter how strong we believed that ours true it was However hard we evaded the looming wars* And now there's this part, that sends voices Through the cracks in the scanty shards Consequent to your goodbye and other choices That still believes in us,this part says we have to try That even if it makes us cry what are tears but a colourlessness liquid that will dry? This part wants another journey with you This part doesn't know Alphabet, it places I right next to you This part sounds quite convincing I think all along you've been the something missing Precedent to the hollow emptiness in my heart Come back, let's hurt each other again After all even apart I'm lonely and it drives me insane And I get more mad seeing you wallow in the mire of pain Maybe hurt is a constant but we can introduce variables to outweigh the aches Come back,stop asking why it all went wrong We will never know, maybe we was too weak or strong Can't stand my mind saying you're my Exe While another part of me thinks you a part of me
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45
a creature of night, a red eye flight. a fight with wrong for what ‘feels’ right a laugh at tears in disbelief i know. i care. i love. defeat. a weeping willow’s broken branch a call to arms. a battle stance. a float along a river bend i think. i listen. i make pretend. history. mystery. his story. her story. bone breaking. head splitting. heart breaking. score keeping. the music of life to the tempo of time the times of my life to the rhythm of rhymes I’ve loved and felt loved in the heat of the moment i hurt and i’ve healed through a weathered atonement the glancing blow. the arrow. the bow. the f hole. the cleft soul. the square peg. the dog bowl. a prayer to somebody. anybody. all bodies. lay with me. stay with me. lonely and made weary. sunsets and good mornings. thunderstorm warnings. inclement. consequent. reverent. I never meant to…
0
May 2, 2012
May 2, 2012 at 5:13 PM UTC
the glancing blow.
everyday is an exertion if you look hard enough you can see my brain in two places at once but being this competent has a consequent price & I'm not even sure how to explain it it seems with every accomplishment i get further caught up in my abilities my talents being a by-product of unattainable stress that i'll never be able to recognize so when its time to shutdown & cool off from the heat of the days work i'm always stuck in the warmth of it the fuzziness over my head the future tasks awakening me digging burrows in my skin & nesting upon my amygdala emotional strain detached until the time comes when the stress of accomplishment becomes too much for even me the double tasking anxious achiever
0
Jan 29, 2014
Jan 29, 2014 at 2:28 PM UTC
insomnia
**there's nothing personable about wintry skies above the boston harbor it gets ugly along the ridgepole of rhode island and providence plantations this time of year i ink off the dome along the varicose veins of these violent streets we smash more because life indoors is the gateway to new manners or points of psychosis if your boo doesn't get you enough to get along it storms snow where we bump some think it's fine or that it's by design lakes freeze over here and mold mirrors made with angels in mind but it's a terrific tragedy the death of colors, inhibitions and innocence choked away from the branches certain seasons undress the way no one knows enough to mourn but mother nature's a chameleon and new england is the skin that won't keep it's the backend of the wannabe springtime middays in may when shorties lose their minds again a few hours every other day rock cutoffs and capris because the sun showed her shine again but she's so premature and we've dreamed dreams before this way against the grain so we get high to get by like smokeheads do but i need something sexier to wake up to like garden birds and backyard bird feeders american robins and the orioles that i imagine must use their sugar water to maintain better bongs because it's a slow burn... the backside of northeastern calendar months and my consequent mood swings are 1 of 2 things that need adjusting but it is what it is, and too cold anyway so smiles crack beneath the pressure like glass poets in poetry slams**
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May 10, 2014
May 10, 2014 at 4:30 PM UTC
WEATHERMAN
**there's nothing personable about wintry skies above the boston harbor it gets ugly along the ridgepole of rhode island and providence plantations this time of year i ink off the dome along the varicose veins of these violent streets we smash more because life indoors is the gateway to new manners or points of psychosis if your boo doesn't get you enough to get along it storms snow where we bump some think it's fine or that it's by design lakes freeze over here and mold mirrors made with angels in mind but it's a terrific tragedy the death of colors, inhibitions and innocence choked away from the branches certain seasons undress the way no one knows enough to mourn but mother nature's a chameleon and new england is the skin that won't keep it's the backend of the wannabe springtime middays in may when shorties lose their minds again a few hours every other day rock cutoffs and capris because the sun showed her shine again but she's so premature and we've dreamed dreams before this way against the grain so we get high to get by like smokeheads do but i need something sexier to wake up to like garden birds and backyard bird feeders american robins and the orioles that i imagine must use their sugar water to maintain better bongs because it's a slow burn... the backside of northeastern calendar months and my consequent mood swings are 1 of 2 things that need adjusting but it is what it is, and too cold anyway so smiles crack beneath the pressure like glass poets in poetry slams**
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41
We sat in the afternoon in the shadows of Ancient trees paying homage to the lady Who had died, of excess of life over death. We were treated to a feast in her honour It was her wish we should be so treated. She was sharing surplus life here with us. Where was the promised river bank where we Would Invoke her spirit amid deep-throated Sanskrit chants and smoking holy fires? There is no river bank here but ancient red walled Storied structures .Here well-fed priests call down The spirits of our dead by sonorous chants. All the while she smiles beatifically, in the hall, From her two-dimensional existence in a photo. The excess life she had died of seems still spilling. (Cancer is uncontrolled division and growth of cells meaning unwanted increase in life activity and consequent breakdown of life support system)
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Oct 14, 2010
Oct 14, 2010 at 12:53 AM UTC
Dying of excess life
Tree ,oh heavenly shade . what a peace i delight within thy shadow. when my heart runs heavy with hollow . when i dread in pain and feel sad . under thee with thy boughs and branches . you console me in peace and great is my reaches . upon thy up turn root i set down and dream . and for real all my world now seems . tree what a beauty concealed in mighty . tree what flowered fragrance and pretty . rises mighty from and up over the ground . you look heavenly decorum and ever so grand . useful tree and serviceable natural gift . house of holly and living worship of angel . what a murmur of thee when i deem thee clam. the praise of thy boughs are great charm . where will i escape from the hellish agony . if not a drip from thy refreshing and wholly . with thee stand my shelter and i sink myself in peace. what a strength from a tiny seed at its self ease . tree is always nothing but three . under thee is held much parleys . mingled with mighty chorus duly . of splendid birds in crimson hue at peace . tree, great purveyor of the hole universe . endless deemed praise of grace . tree is always nothing but three. peace maker of all broken sweet siree. under thee they stand two sweet hearts . in pain and all but also in waist . the lyrics deem hard and also practically unheeded. they struggle for love , they lured for lead . the love reel and nothing but discord stands . sudden collapse in lament but consequent wreck. the love recital seems an old rotten chorus of trumpet. therein thy breeze whirls but in sweet pace a bet . never an end_ never an end _ at least not under my care . you reach forth then thy cheerful fragrance ajar . you out fine decorum of thy rich stature . and set forward then a song in winning pleading allure . through the young man and lady 's heart it settle in and dwell . both their orbs shine in communal understanding so well . their faces lighten ,their cheek flush , their heart call . in unison for life and forever love in peace they fall . a hug as tight and a kiss as tender as ever feels . and from above thy boughs rain down is sweet withered . washed them across and drop down as married flowered.
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Apr 13, 2015
Apr 13, 2015 at 2:56 PM UTC
TREE IS BUT THREE
Tree ,oh heavenly shade . what a peace i delight within thy shadow. when my heart runs heavy with hollow . when i dread in pain and feel sad . under thee with thy boughs and branches . you console me in peace and great is my reaches . upon thy up turn root i set down and dream . and for real all my world now seems . tree what a beauty concealed in mighty . tree what flowered fragrance and pretty . rises mighty from and up over the ground . you look heavenly decorum and ever so grand . useful tree and serviceable natural gift . house of holly and living worship of angel . what a murmur of thee when i deem thee clam. the praise of thy boughs are great charm . where will i escape from the hellish agony . if not a drip from thy refreshing and wholly . with thee stand my shelter and i sink myself in peace. what a strength from a tiny seed at its self ease . tree is always nothing but three . under thee is held much parleys . mingled with mighty chorus duly . of splendid birds in crimson hue at peace . tree, great purveyor of the hole universe . endless deemed praise of grace . tree is always nothing but three. peace maker of all broken sweet siree. under thee they stand two sweet hearts . in pain and all but also in waist . the lyrics deem hard and also practically unheeded. they struggle for love , they lured for lead . the love reel and nothing but discord stands . sudden collapse in lament but consequent wreck. the love recital seems an old rotten chorus of trumpet. therein thy breeze whirls but in sweet pace a bet . never an end_ never an end _ at least not under my care . you reach forth then thy cheerful fragrance ajar . you out fine decorum of thy rich stature . and set forward then a song in winning pleading allure . through the young man and lady 's heart it settle in and dwell . both their orbs shine in communal understanding so well . their faces lighten ,their cheek flush , their heart call . in unison for life and forever love in peace they fall . a hug as tight and a kiss as tender as ever feels . and from above thy boughs rain down is sweet withered . washed them across and drop down as married flowered.
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47
I love, not just those I knew back then, But those Who were young Back then, But who've since Come to grief, who, Having soared so high, Found the Consequent descent Too dreadful to bear, With my youth itself, Which was only Yesterday, No, even less time, A mere moment ago, How could Such a short space Of time Cause such devastation?
0
Sep 1, 2015
Sep 1, 2015 at 5:57 AM UTC
Such a Short Space of Time
Bathing in love/ your idea of it Focused hard on that steady change Just my size of box - a stepping point Floating off from the rocks , open cove There was always- something , cope. /Paint me a picture/under fresh pine way under the woody black faded from this green of desolate trees Ship rock down the shore forgotten Your plot of wood and cliff / faded from view as every day is now Our newpine friend jutting out of rock / fifty meters from the seahouse Something maybe in your tone- bubbles of soap- darkly the ocean Salt water kisses and something about conquering fear or dread One of the consequent Black and white swirls Has me laying around All these messages left Im on my way out Afraid of burning bridges And open water
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Nov 22, 2014
Nov 22, 2014 at 1:33 PM UTC
Afraid of open water
We're all scared of the same **** things Of hurt and heartbreak Love and longing and losing it all I fear your heart As much as mine A Ferris wheel I didn't want to ride Sugar turned bitter Like honey on the tongue of a bear I fear touch because loving hands Still swing ****** swords My hopes are fallen Like Zeus and gods We fear life as if death were consequent for wrong answers Instead of tomorrow Meadows with flowers refusing to bloom For ungrateful senses If we can't see the pain Failing to hide behind eyes Then clouds will combine Sun will forget the smell of earth And sons won't look to fathers Because belts aren't better Than disappointing expectations We all fear Fear loves us everyone But I am someone Even amongst everyone
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Mar 4, 2015
Mar 4, 2015 at 5:14 PM UTC
Everyone is Scared
**I know it's you with that smile that curls up your lip it's you I want to forever keep those ocean blue eyes that speak it's you who makes my heart loudly tick** *I know it's you it's you I want to journey with to forever it's you I think about every other day that steals words and I lack what to say it's you I seemingly can't have however* **I know it's you it's you who's always understood my every other good and foul mood it's you who's born in me optimism with your constant constructive criticism** *I know it's you the butterfly that flutters abaft my soul the star that has my dark sky lit it's you written all over my heartbeat you could be the shot for my best goal* **I know it's you with your lassie walk and dance so beautiful you're my only chance it's you with your crinal endowment your charm, my enchantment** *I know it's you the one I've been waiting for all my life the notch above circadian fluff in front of me radiating peace from that chair with a magnetic bright lucermal stare* **I know it's you causing this fatal circulatory disorientation consequent to a respiratory frustration it's you but I fear any flirtation Would but lead to a damnation** *I know it's you who has always given me an asinine notion of never camouflaging but declaring emotions yet I think you could just hate if I told you Even if honesty and confession is your own view* **I know it's you you may never be told ,I might never be bold it's completely you without a single doubt but more than friends might be more than you could count** I know it's you
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Jan 28, 2016
Jan 28, 2016 at 3:23 AM UTC
It's YOU
**I know it's you with that smile that curls up your lip it's you I want to forever keep those ocean blue eyes that speak it's you who makes my heart loudly tick** *I know it's you it's you I want to journey with to forever it's you I think about every other day that steals words and I lack what to say it's you I seemingly can't have however* **I know it's you it's you who's always understood my every other good and foul mood it's you who's born in me optimism with your constant constructive criticism** *I know it's you the butterfly that flutters abaft my soul the star that has my dark sky lit it's you written all over my heartbeat you could be the shot for my best goal* **I know it's you with your lassie walk and dance so beautiful you're my only chance it's you with your crinal endowment your charm, my enchantment** *I know it's you the one I've been waiting for all my life the notch above circadian fluff in front of me radiating peace from that chair with a magnetic bright lucermal stare* **I know it's you causing this fatal circulatory disorientation consequent to a respiratory frustration it's you but I fear any flirtation Would but lead to a damnation** *I know it's you who has always given me an asinine notion of never camouflaging but declaring emotions yet I think you could just hate if I told you Even if honesty and confession is your own view* **I know it's you you may never be told ,I might never be bold it's completely you without a single doubt but more than friends might be more than you could count** I know it's you
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45
It’s pathetic really, I know, that I’d live off the scraps of you, the hand-me-down, half cares and “hullo’s” you’d throw while I scramble for your neck in the dark, and **** you for “just out of reach” and mumbles under mountains of day and dream, fervor-filled anthologies built on your hands and the consequent shadows cast. I never got to taste you, but I imagine it’s something like 16 and gasoline. The question isn’t what we really want. We want a blood bath, the world in flames, but we cry when the red doesn't come out of the towels. It's just who we are.
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Apr 18, 2017
Apr 18, 2017 at 10:05 PM UTC
Non-Linear
I still cry over my accident that happened, The accident that happened nearly 7 years ago. Of any gains to me, there seems no hint at all, And of my pain, there seems no happy end. Reason with my invisible tears I often do, Irrecoverable damage after all that happened, More was the damage that was consequent. I lost my friends, I lost my career overall, The accident did no good to me except one. Of my family ties, it strengthened them all, And my physical pains are long subdued. Reason I fail to find for my lost years, Irrecoverable is the lost love and friendship, More is that grief of the invisible tears.
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Feb 18, 2017
Feb 18, 2017 at 12:05 AM UTC
Invisible Tears
When ancient Greeks dwelt upon notions Of matter and its nature, formulating philosophies Of physics to grasp and get a glimpse at the Universe, A single common inspired idea, bound them all in reflection: ‘Nothing comes into existence from nothing’. There had to be eternal surviving basic elements unable To be created or destroyed, continuously mutating to underline Apparent change, while composing all that ever was, is And will be. Omnificent and omnipresent in a godly manner. Evolution laying the grounds for rare creatures To grow into great thinkers, ponder and observe, Empirically prove the facticity of these elements, Philosophical atoms, scientific elementary particles. Notes on the elegant musical score Orchestrating the Universe, its dance and its laws. Indivisible, matter reduced to its core Permeating space and everything within. This basic notion twirls in my head Pervading my being with the awareness of its substance: I am part of all that exists and with it, I share my essence. A consequent conscious feeling of unity With the Universe, all that exists and the humankind. A sense of inevitable peace, While accepting to be a part of it all. Harmonic realisation that combined we are Nothing more and nothing less Than the Universe becoming aware Of Itself.
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May 22, 2017
May 22, 2017 at 4:26 AM UTC
Indivisible
**I wrote this piece seated on a skin irritating lawn maybe it was a plastic table but itching was how it felt while desperately begging fate to an extent I almost knelt because I was totally exhausted and bitterly alone** *I wrote this whilst I still lifted the desolation load I guess you were on your way then but coming the toad while I was deadbeat with no arms to take me aboard I wrote this long before the song of our romance would download* **I wrote this while I was engrossed, battling school in a kraal of beauty yet shockingly a lonesome bull I think at the time you still owned a plastic doll when I totally doubted there was even the slightest of chance I'd ever fall** *I wrote this piece evading sleep for the fear of creepy dreams tears cascading down my eyes like fountains down the streams consequent to the ache underneath every emotional scar and doubting our encounter would ever occur* **I wrote this relieving the imaginary side to my story's end too boring a love story to predict what lay beyond the bend something deduced from the notes my heart would send even before you were a stranger let alone a friend** *I wrote this before we met courtesy of a surprisingly considerate fate before I'd dare imagine that lass in my fantasy was you when I saw no difference twixt love and hate and so much disbelieved that people are capable of staying true* **I wrote this long before overcoming my insecurities and doubt then when my soul was but a creepy dark empty place prior setting eyes upon the flamboyant heavenly face when I clearly saw no possibility of making out** *then when passion and romance were just a myth when the sharp two sided sword of my affection was hidden in its sheath when my heart was my mind and mind was my heart Believe me, I wrote this when we were still by destiny set apart*
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May 30, 2016
May 30, 2016 at 6:18 PM UTC
When I Wrote This Piece
**I wrote this piece seated on a skin irritating lawn maybe it was a plastic table but itching was how it felt while desperately begging fate to an extent I almost knelt because I was totally exhausted and bitterly alone** *I wrote this whilst I still lifted the desolation load I guess you were on your way then but coming the toad while I was deadbeat with no arms to take me aboard I wrote this long before the song of our romance would download* **I wrote this while I was engrossed, battling school in a kraal of beauty yet shockingly a lonesome bull I think at the time you still owned a plastic doll when I totally doubted there was even the slightest of chance I'd ever fall** *I wrote this piece evading sleep for the fear of creepy dreams tears cascading down my eyes like fountains down the streams consequent to the ache underneath every emotional scar and doubting our encounter would ever occur* **I wrote this relieving the imaginary side to my story's end too boring a love story to predict what lay beyond the bend something deduced from the notes my heart would send even before you were a stranger let alone a friend** *I wrote this before we met courtesy of a surprisingly considerate fate before I'd dare imagine that lass in my fantasy was you when I saw no difference twixt love and hate and so much disbelieved that people are capable of staying true* **I wrote this long before overcoming my insecurities and doubt then when my soul was but a creepy dark empty place prior setting eyes upon the flamboyant heavenly face when I clearly saw no possibility of making out** *then when passion and romance were just a myth when the sharp two sided sword of my affection was hidden in its sheath when my heart was my mind and mind was my heart Believe me, I wrote this when we were still by destiny set apart*
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32
The choral fraternity breathed coordinately, perfectly quietly, and (crucially) sequentially, so that the consequent silences went largely unnoticed, fortunately.
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Dec 16, 2023
Dec 16, 2023 at 4:28 PM UTC
Breathing in time.
I see him & I see you I see the way he stands with the eager eyes. The way his actions speak like your unsaid words. I always listen to you asking me to take you out. Eventually I do what you ask for. The way you handle your frienship The time that I spent with you, I see that all in glimpses when I see him. The voice that is cheerful & energetic Your anger and the consequent actions. You alwasy take my clothes to terrace to tear. Well! Least should I know that I should keep my promises. The way you move your head on seeing new things. Like a sincere student who learns from scratch. Training you was easy, but me training for it was hard. The same care, affection and loyalty. Except for the fact you wag your tail Yes, You! My little brother with tail. I always pictured you as human. What will you talk and how will you behave. And now I found a human just like you As I see him a pure warmth fills my heart. Though far away, you are here with me in memories.
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Oct 24, 2021
Oct 24, 2021 at 5:25 PM UTC
Warmth in my heart
Unknown and foreign to light Feeling the emptiness hence cry. 1 and 11 months dad left, Guileless kid that I was Didn't care. Grandma's place during the weekdays With Kor as my playmate. You'd think we were inseparable But we grew up. Doted on due to pity Doesn't quite last. When you're a annoying seven year old, Single parented or not, who cares? No one to turn to, Seeing mum only morning and night. Keeping it all to myself, That's how I grew up. Nine year old was hell Crying to sleep silently, Worrying about how to act, A smile to cover it up. No one cared enough to ask. Time flew and at 15 We finally moved "home". Little space I once possessed Grew to naught. The first slash, the first purge. No one knows. The first attempt, the consequent ones No one cares. Nothing was ever easy. At 16 and 4 months I look back Thinking how the hell I survived it all Thinking how the hell am I going to move on.
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Mar 14, 2014
Mar 14, 2014 at 12:37 PM UTC
16 and 4 months
Words, once spoken,  die in the void of the moment however, sweet or eloquent like the interval between two musical notes ---consequent to the utterance, silence makes its appearance-- patient, omniscient and sublimely poignant.
0
Apr 16, 2016
Apr 16, 2016 at 9:05 AM UTC
WORDS ONCE SPOKEN: THEIR AFTERMATH
Life’s a hula-hoop, what goes around comes back around… you don’t need to alter to move, you don’t need to walk away to move on. Some go as far as half way across the sphere and remain right where they were shattered to smithereens, some go and leave their hearts behind. Even at constant, things change. You may mean nothing to somebody at the moment but what if I tell you rumour has it that someday you might be everything Even scientists claim Mother Nature was once nothing, and from nonentity ensued the big bang… I used to dispute this theory so much so bad…but now I realize nothing’ll ever be more true… someday a big bang is going to happen in a heart of the very person to whom you are but an oblivious void of transparent obstruction and a consequent profound alteration…You’ll turn out to be their cosmos, the stratum of your mouth will be a vista they wish to osculate, the glow of your lips a dawn they crave in the chilly twilight of their solitude and your eyes will sparkle like the stars in the sky of the future they dream about… They’ll stutter in chills for you’ll be so cool, an ice age they’ll wish they’d skied through while they had the chance, yet again a supernatural cause of global warming, so hot that they’ll sweat, by radiation the gamma rays of hot passion will pierce through the weak walls of their hitherto frozen hearts and as a result, the tectonic plates holding their souls will release, and consequently a quake of an unimaginable magnitude will send them head over hills. As if that’s not enough, a labyrinthine volcano will erupt at the peak of their pride, the “Lover” will flow with them back down to earth, residual effects will be felt even when miles away… On the wind ward side of a resultant Everest of regret, up the skies of their eyes will linger copious clouds of grief and everyday it will rain. The crop of their esteem will be washed in the flood of the moment And in hunger they’ll ravenously gobble their words, Get on their knees and ask you to be their rainbow…
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Sep 30, 2016
Sep 30, 2016 at 5:29 PM UTC
iT wiLL raIN
Life’s a hula-hoop, what goes around comes back around… you don’t need to alter to move, you don’t need to walk away to move on. Some go as far as half way across the sphere and remain right where they were shattered to smithereens, some go and leave their hearts behind. Even at constant, things change. You may mean nothing to somebody at the moment but what if I tell you rumour has it that someday you might be everything Even scientists claim Mother Nature was once nothing, and from nonentity ensued the big bang… I used to dispute this theory so much so bad…but now I realize nothing’ll ever be more true… someday a big bang is going to happen in a heart of the very person to whom you are but an oblivious void of transparent obstruction and a consequent profound alteration…You’ll turn out to be their cosmos, the stratum of your mouth will be a vista they wish to osculate, the glow of your lips a dawn they crave in the chilly twilight of their solitude and your eyes will sparkle like the stars in the sky of the future they dream about… They’ll stutter in chills for you’ll be so cool, an ice age they’ll wish they’d skied through while they had the chance, yet again a supernatural cause of global warming, so hot that they’ll sweat, by radiation the gamma rays of hot passion will pierce through the weak walls of their hitherto frozen hearts and as a result, the tectonic plates holding their souls will release, and consequently a quake of an unimaginable magnitude will send them head over hills. As if that’s not enough, a labyrinthine volcano will erupt at the peak of their pride, the “Lover” will flow with them back down to earth, residual effects will be felt even when miles away… On the wind ward side of a resultant Everest of regret, up the skies of their eyes will linger copious clouds of grief and everyday it will rain. The crop of their esteem will be washed in the flood of the moment And in hunger they’ll ravenously gobble their words, Get on their knees and ask you to be their rainbow…
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27
"You are at the end of my fingertips" *the cherished itch between my flesh and nail that I giggly scratch and the blood of loneliness drips sealing all the hugs and kisses to send them by mail you are the lashes to my eye, minced to my pie and days without you lost their right of count for no matter how busy I keep and hard I try the sizzling thoughts of you never fade, they don't If you were the bible I would read all the verses if you were the ocean I would explore every corner if you were soccer I would make complete passes and if you were near I know I wouldn't be a loner those are the echoes consequent to my silent heart's screams for you are a choice I would make even in my dreams*
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Apr 26, 2016
Apr 26, 2016 at 3:59 AM UTC
Echoes of Silence (NapoWriMo)