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"daylit" poems
What's your take on walking? My body serves my soul and tells me how to go. My heart, affixed -- aims to show. These ways I’ve walked in my shoes and stockings. I've looked to heaven’s stars, to daylit clouds, when I've stepped out, or dropped my gaze to track the ground. Yes, it is true—whoever passed me by could have taken offense and supposed I lacked my confidence. And ofttimes, I strode out straight and true as if toward a far mist horizon. Un-manifest future, even peek-a-boo, could be comprehended?  I should doubt it. And if I wished to address an occasional in-the-dumps, lost-at-sea feeling, I'd shut my eyes, and walk backwards -- owl-like, swivel 360 my head. Backwards blind circumspection seemed worthy my try; Ask--Who am I? I would story where I’d been. In my most spontaneous of nature foot-trafficking, in roulette walk; my spin of gun chamber click-- ant, spider, beetle, and the occasional sighing snail had fled my shadow shoe? As slow drift clouds in a sky game would play with the sun to hide—creatures had sought me out, sung their farewells?  (it was an excellent day to die) Let me tell it, as it had happened today, and truth says how. My feet, they had gotten to waltz-walking. O how my body and soul danced a-fancy free. Love was brimming out of me; happiness whispered her wordless name; and my tongue tripped nonsensical. So if, at last, you've kept a-pace with me in sympathetic striding, then perhaps you would surmise: there never could be a flat-footed me, when I spout off with poem-talking. Now, what’s your take on walking?
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Oct 31, 2015
Oct 31, 2015 at 12:12 PM UTC
Walking
What's your take on walking? My body serves my soul and tells me how to go. My heart, affixed -- aims to show. These ways I’ve walked in my shoes and stockings. I've looked to heaven’s stars, to daylit clouds, when I've stepped out, or dropped my gaze to track the ground. Yes, it is true—whoever passed me by could have taken offense and supposed I lacked my confidence. And ofttimes, I strode out straight and true as if toward a far mist horizon. Un-manifest future, even peek-a-boo, could be comprehended?  I should doubt it. And if I wished to address an occasional in-the-dumps, lost-at-sea feeling, I'd shut my eyes, and walk backwards -- owl-like, swivel 360 my head. Backwards blind circumspection seemed worthy my try; Ask--Who am I? I would story where I’d been. In my most spontaneous of nature foot-trafficking, in roulette walk; my spin of gun chamber click-- ant, spider, beetle, and the occasional sighing snail had fled my shadow shoe? As slow drift clouds in a sky game would play with the sun to hide—creatures had sought me out, sung their farewells?  (it was an excellent day to die) Let me tell it, as it had happened today, and truth says how. My feet, they had gotten to waltz-walking. O how my body and soul danced a-fancy free. Love was brimming out of me; happiness whispered her wordless name; and my tongue tripped nonsensical. So if, at last, you've kept a-pace with me in sympathetic striding, then perhaps you would surmise: there never could be a flat-footed me, when I spout off with poem-talking. Now, what’s your take on walking?
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Foundlings lament beneath their shrouds For the Givers they never knew. Shouts of terror, gone unheard, loud And bright in the fright of selected few. Shadows cast beneath sunlight's flags Are trademarked captions made of stained silk. They trod the daylit bog in dusty rags, Secretly living, they and their ilk.
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Nov 9, 2010
Nov 9, 2010 at 3:10 PM UTC
They, Unheard
morning gracefully glides over the lingering night, icy crystals like diamonds effortlessly hovering in the daylit sky, sun's golden warmth joins hands with the twinging frost, and the lingering night gracefully glides over the morning.
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Feb 19, 2014
Feb 19, 2014 at 3:05 PM UTC
gliding
You pointed out the obvious, how I was taking time; and I was fairly cautious not to be sublime. I didn't want to tell you, that I was just afraid, that I feared every piece of rue that made me feel so strayed. I took every step slowly, never wanting to part. For in the end, I lowly cradle my aching heart. I would rather conceal our bliss in awkward daylit hours than spend a moment so amiss in a place ever so sour. I stalled to keep you near me for happiness, I knew. I hoped you always did see and hoped you were happy too. I stalled because when we are not together, things do change. For more time I wish I had fought but home was out of range. I stalled because I wanted, (I'd say so without shame) to never be so haunted of the nights with barefaced blame. I stalled because I didn't want to argue tonight, I don't know how to hint it, but I fear a direct fight. I stalled because I disliked how it felt to be away. Unknowing, fearing, nearing psyched if I'll see you the next day. I stalled because I couldn't bear to let you go; But I'm just a young woman and we still have years to go. I stalled because I didn't want to feel alone. Without you, just your imprint; I feel lost and unknown. I stalled because I love you. I have loved you and I still do. I still love you and I will love you, and I will remain true.
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Aug 19, 2015
Aug 19, 2015 at 11:24 AM UTC
Why I Stalled
Dreams flaire brighter than any daylit sky Some of them talk and laugh and cringe and cry Rising over our dark horizons, a phoenix of the mind Though the hotter they burn, the sooner they die
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Oct 15, 2011
Oct 15, 2011 at 7:34 PM UTC
A Seared Understanding
I'll always feel in my chest broken Septembers. I am languishing with the days, head first to a point of no return. I am the ghost of an abducted goddess, the one who bled all over saffrons and still holds on to her sorrows. I bid farewell to the sunglow on wildflowers. I bid farewell to daylit copper fields. I bid farewell to golden hours, as down I descend to the sweetest madness, and up it goes to consume me.
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Sep 10, 2021
Sep 10, 2021 at 11:36 PM UTC
September Sadness
Turn it on Switch it over Where is all the effort? Expended Frittered into dark corners of the glowing light The imperative is stolen Thought yielding to entertainment Our abilities squandered Reason hammered and hampered by our addiction to mindlessness The warm blanket of comfort Safety Turn it on Switch it over I can’t be bothered I don’t want to think I just like the noise. Is it different From finding others who make noises like you and mooing together? Lifting your tongue, raising your voice As you join the cacophony of the voiceless Chattering their way Through the daylit midnight hours. In the crowded room no one is listening Except those who want to hear. Turn it on Switch it over
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Nov 5, 2014
Nov 5, 2014 at 2:34 AM UTC
Watching