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"debuts" poems
loose gravel crunching loudly beneath me transposes into the soft thudding of my feet against the soil. the meadow, my old friend, greets me with a whispering wind. we are both happy. the sun dips just below the horizon, watercoloring the sky in lilacs and siennas. cicadas converse around me, as I am but a guest at their lovely hillside home. the cotton-swab clouds part, and the moon debuts. she is pure, unsullied radiance. with the stars as backup, and the sky as her stage, she pirouettes, beginning her nightly routine. tears glide down my cheeks. rich plums of dusk fade into the dark navies of night, and my head sinks into pillowy grass. my eyelids become lead, and the sandman arrives. everything is quiet, and this peace is eternal.
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Aug 16, 2021
Aug 16, 2021 at 7:45 PM UTC
in the gloaming
Extract the blood, the metaphor for this euphoric movie I had directed under the fall of night, alone. The film began to develop as the bottles began to pile and thus I began to envision these delusions which I lust would become a reality. We were a movie. Especially when your smoke filled my mouth and you fed me love off of tables. Made me hazy it smelt so gentle it burned so numb. Tacky hands rode my skin, engraving scars of diamonds. My ego erupted; became so ******* rich. Illusion said I could buy your love but your eyes were guilty of unfazed. Debuts don’t faze millionaires, we just look like more money. Millionaires don’t watch our movies. 11 August, 19 03:37
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Aug 13, 2019
Aug 13, 2019 at 5:58 PM UTC
Hollywood. august’19. 03:37am
Summer's here in all it's depression Bound to make an impression Pretty little leaves fall and weave into a pattern, so naive Marigolds of black and yellow Stopping to say hello Old flames anew, the myriad of youth debuts, shimmering hue Here they come to make it right In this garden of delights Colourful and young among a palette of sweet songs to be sung Flowers assemble into a crown Laughter rings all around Eyes trace the rise of the wind, graceful and calm, as she flies The innocence that went away Has come back to play Upon sunbeams, it seems they have flown right out of our dreams Nature calls, ornate splendor To it we surrender Sunny craze lost in a haze, spurred out of celibacy, mellow laze Nature has something to say Sun has a brand new day Laid back with ease, all that it sees it gives new life, honey bees
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Jun 29, 2019
Jun 29, 2019 at 3:33 AM UTC
Honey Bees
Ambiguously, he was boggled, beguiled by garbled goggles while giggling out the squiggles, to wiggle the signals free. Deliberately dallying in the Plato piety of proprietary philosophies, he, dastardly deemed, disaster to be, damaging, to the laughter in the chatter of the baggage handlers to another plane. Manhandler of a plastered paradise, partly in slices, of silly little vices of sacrifices, that shall suffice with vice grips on the lips of the negative with the spices of nicety. Lavished in lividly living uP the misgivings of lesserly lessons, blessing the blasphemy, in passionate tuck ins, snuck in, upon drunken hunkering in the bunkers of spunkier spiels. Languid longevity's of luscious lettering, lest will we, count our kills, never ever to leave a life festering in lectured structuring, besting the busy debuts, of flukless frugality, lucidly, counting the calories of calamity, and randomly rhyming without reason in season-less rain clouds, only allowed to put the umbrella away, and fade in play to the part, where we impart patience on the persona from the coma of commonality. Immaculately conceived, perceived as a ***** who adores hollow hearts, as we, haphazardly heap on the hilarity, in hepatidal waves, through fazes of the common wealth. Smile in stealth, love no one else, but self and end up in health, at a lonely age in staged stimuli, reminding me why i'm alive, and not allowed to die, while on rewind through the hard times, to smile on the last lines of laser driven lifelines, laughing at the fragile signs on the finer wines, as they break on the bowes of holy boats in bouts against the sea. Spewing randomly, he, finds satisfactory solutions to the strengthening of his constitution in loosened blue spells, to dispel his ruthless tendrils from your ears. The fears fueling the finality in his fractured mentality of maniacal travesties laughing at me. Its just me, unjustly adjusting for the combustion of the build. Its lovely here. Laughing in the lashes. Signing my entrapment's. Lapsing out the masses and forming from the ashes of smashed happiness, as it unclasps before my eyes. Sometimes It just feels right to be alive.
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Dec 24, 2012
Dec 24, 2012 at 2:26 AM UTC
Flipwordly Fiasco
Ambiguously, he was boggled, beguiled by garbled goggles while giggling out the squiggles, to wiggle the signals free. Deliberately dallying in the Plato piety of proprietary philosophies, he, dastardly deemed, disaster to be, damaging, to the laughter in the chatter of the baggage handlers to another plane. Manhandler of a plastered paradise, partly in slices, of silly little vices of sacrifices, that shall suffice with vice grips on the lips of the negative with the spices of nicety. Lavished in lividly living uP the misgivings of lesserly lessons, blessing the blasphemy, in passionate tuck ins, snuck in, upon drunken hunkering in the bunkers of spunkier spiels. Languid longevity's of luscious lettering, lest will we, count our kills, never ever to leave a life festering in lectured structuring, besting the busy debuts, of flukless frugality, lucidly, counting the calories of calamity, and randomly rhyming without reason in season-less rain clouds, only allowed to put the umbrella away, and fade in play to the part, where we impart patience on the persona from the coma of commonality. Immaculately conceived, perceived as a ***** who adores hollow hearts, as we, haphazardly heap on the hilarity, in hepatidal waves, through fazes of the common wealth. Smile in stealth, love no one else, but self and end up in health, at a lonely age in staged stimuli, reminding me why i'm alive, and not allowed to die, while on rewind through the hard times, to smile on the last lines of laser driven lifelines, laughing at the fragile signs on the finer wines, as they break on the bowes of holy boats in bouts against the sea. Spewing randomly, he, finds satisfactory solutions to the strengthening of his constitution in loosened blue spells, to dispel his ruthless tendrils from your ears. The fears fueling the finality in his fractured mentality of maniacal travesties laughing at me. Its just me, unjustly adjusting for the combustion of the build. Its lovely here. Laughing in the lashes. Signing my entrapment's. Lapsing out the masses and forming from the ashes of smashed happiness, as it unclasps before my eyes. Sometimes It just feels right to be alive.
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16
Ambiguously, he was boggled, beguiled by garbled goggles while giggling out the squiggles, to wiggle the signals free. Deliberately dallying in the Plato piety of proprietary philosophies, he, dastardly deemed, disaster to be, damaging, to the laughter in the chatter of the baggage handlers to another plane. Manhandler of a plastered paradise, partly in slices, of silly little vices of sacrifices, that shall suffice with vice grips on the lips of the negative with the spices of nicety. Lavished in lividly living uP the misgivings of lesserly lessons, blessing the blasphemy, in passionate tuck ins, snuck in, upon drunken hunkering in the bunkers of spunkier spiels. Languid longevity's of luscious lettering, lest will we, count our kills, never ever to leave a life festering in lectured structuring, besting the busy debuts, of flukless frugality, lucidly, counting the calories of calamity, and randomly rhyming without reason in season-less rain clouds, only allowed to put the umbrella away, and fade in play to the part, where we impart patience on the persona from the coma of commonality. Immaculately conceived, perceived as a ***** who adores hollow hearts, as we, haphazardly heap on the hilarity, in hepatidal waves, through fazes of the common wealth. Smile in stealth, love no one else, but self and end up in health, at a lonely age in staged stimuli, reminding me why i'm alive, and not allowed to die, while on rewind through the hard times, to smile on the last lines of laser driven lifelines, laughing at the fragile signs on the finer wines, as they break on the bowes of holy boats in bouts against the sea. Spewing randomly, he, finds satisfactory solutions to the strengthening of his constitution in loosened blue spells, to dispel his ruthless tendrils from your ears. The fears fueling the finality in his fractured mentality of maniacal travesties laughing at me. Its just me, unjustly adjusting for the combustion of the build. Its lovely here. Laughing in the lashes. Signing my entrapment's. Lapsing out the masses and forming from the ashes of smashed happiness, as it unclasps before my eyes. Sometimes It just feels right to be alive.
0
Apr 9, 2013
Apr 9, 2013 at 11:37 PM UTC
Flippwordly Fiasco
Ambiguously, he was boggled, beguiled by garbled goggles while giggling out the squiggles, to wiggle the signals free. Deliberately dallying in the Plato piety of proprietary philosophies, he, dastardly deemed, disaster to be, damaging, to the laughter in the chatter of the baggage handlers to another plane. Manhandler of a plastered paradise, partly in slices, of silly little vices of sacrifices, that shall suffice with vice grips on the lips of the negative with the spices of nicety. Lavished in lividly living uP the misgivings of lesserly lessons, blessing the blasphemy, in passionate tuck ins, snuck in, upon drunken hunkering in the bunkers of spunkier spiels. Languid longevity's of luscious lettering, lest will we, count our kills, never ever to leave a life festering in lectured structuring, besting the busy debuts, of flukless frugality, lucidly, counting the calories of calamity, and randomly rhyming without reason in season-less rain clouds, only allowed to put the umbrella away, and fade in play to the part, where we impart patience on the persona from the coma of commonality. Immaculately conceived, perceived as a ***** who adores hollow hearts, as we, haphazardly heap on the hilarity, in hepatidal waves, through fazes of the common wealth. Smile in stealth, love no one else, but self and end up in health, at a lonely age in staged stimuli, reminding me why i'm alive, and not allowed to die, while on rewind through the hard times, to smile on the last lines of laser driven lifelines, laughing at the fragile signs on the finer wines, as they break on the bowes of holy boats in bouts against the sea. Spewing randomly, he, finds satisfactory solutions to the strengthening of his constitution in loosened blue spells, to dispel his ruthless tendrils from your ears. The fears fueling the finality in his fractured mentality of maniacal travesties laughing at me. Its just me, unjustly adjusting for the combustion of the build. Its lovely here. Laughing in the lashes. Signing my entrapment's. Lapsing out the masses and forming from the ashes of smashed happiness, as it unclasps before my eyes. Sometimes It just feels right to be alive.
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(A gradual dream of more) the Scale of Continued Practical Worth, is set... one pan holds our Mind Born As Is Dueling in the opposite tray, lay the Experienced Mind With Growth,   beginning to tip into an immediate fluttering imbalance Dissatisfaction debuts as mid-crowning meets first breath The pre-cradle screams Run parallel with the desire for want A leveled contentment is laid out in a pasture of vast to be taken possession of Keeping forever, within immediate grasp Too tangible to breach   While “the more, the better” is what is the vehicle driving us to this jaded result We never stop striving for the bigger next better. So long as this goes on, comfort and contentment get lost in the past, as years blow away the life of ease when and where we would have wanted for nothing
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Jul 27, 2019
Jul 27, 2019 at 1:35 AM UTC
Being Content Vs. A Content Being
Disappointment. I constantly feel it from you. Hope. I feel this each time. Will it get better? This reminds me that I love you, still. Suffering. To love is to suffer? No truer words have been spoken. Desperation. Yes, for when my love for you is unfulfilled. This feeling debuts. Emptiness. When you and I are not in each others arms, this emotion shows its ugly face. Happiness. A distant memory. Love. The only reason these words have been produced. The only light in this pitch black tunnel. The silver lining that may shine bright still. The supreme power that ignities my life. The eternal energy that fuels my happiness.
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Nov 16, 2015
Nov 16, 2015 at 10:07 PM UTC
Emotions
Minds Golden, Minds Open, Heart's fulfilled, yet hurt and swollen, I try, others deny, "failure viewed as our only progress" Making sensible souls cry, "Mind's are allergic, soul's anemic... To any source of Wisdom, souls not in agreement, Self: not viewed as source of achievement, Ourselves of course, a source of Truth: never convenient. Actors: our politicians, revering, of only folly, Stalling our hopes, for a future of love & glory Unwritten stories, none making the attempt, Of Liking self, of loving self, all have sins to repent, Histories shallow, written by dark lords of shadows, Books for/by crooks, truth send to the gallows, all deceptive in action and looks, all heart hallowed, Down to flesh and bone marrow, even beauty, ugly and sallow. All fighting, what for? what are these rivalries? Tragedies, parodies, None perceiving our true enemies, Salute, debuts, soldier fighting with honor, Notes taken, yet truth forsaken, orders issued by monsters & robbers. Sure let's us all slander, to any, if any, speaks of truth, Markets, targets, to spread poison, sickness to our youth. Send soldiers abroad, let's watch them fight as we rob, Soldiers die, leaders never cry. They're Problem Solved! Yet, among a few: fortunate Mind's Golden,
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Nov 3, 2016
Nov 3, 2016 at 4:40 PM UTC
Sending Truth to the gallows