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"decending" poems
Bidding farewell to the warmth, The bells of a spring path ring, to the sound of the wind, Which has once again, crossed the stream of time, as it usually does, The transience of the day, already lost due time, the sun remains as a traveler, whom appears to have crossed the Zenith again, It's scorching heat is to be felt, exposed to it almost as if it was to be to set the skin ablaze, truly these sunrays, are unforgiving at this time, Sorrow and misery, are to burn into ash by this heat, a purifying flame of affectionate happiness, embracing those who have found themselves to be in love with the natural, decending, light, Beyond the boundaries, the mystery of our living power remains unknown, all what is left is a spark in the dark, beyond the sunshine, The evening welcoming this world is soon to be radiating in joyful light, wandering aimlessly the time for the sunset draws near, Beyond the Zenith, lies the transience of the passing time. ~ Umi
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May 1, 2018
May 1, 2018 at 9:36 AM UTC
Beyond the Zenith
I Sleep ; I Slip In Doze, I Seep out into the Scenes ; In Potions Deep In Notions Cold and Preasuring I Fit and Knit my Crown I Coral I Knot and Concrete a Frown But though I Invite my Efforts My Thoughting is Leaks and Tearing * Over Whale but Underwater I Recover Nothing Reassuring Slowing to a Pale In Ocean Cold My Feedings are Slurring to a Drown My Motions ; Enwombed and Collected An Unfoetal, my Body Undertakes a Vulnerable Mould Above The Surface The Ship Blinks, on Fire And Gifts from the Broken Hold Sink to me It's all a Wink Directed at me A Humour But I am become Prepared Still For the Next Life I Discard, Decending Still A Treat Sunk Below A Monsterous Breakfast                                                  *note : as in, secreting saline, watery fluid
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Aug 17, 2018
Aug 17, 2018 at 10:19 PM UTC
SlumberBrine [or The Whale]
What am I, a man you may say but you don't know me. Have you spoken with God? I have and he says he's ashamed. What have I become, what have I done. What am I, a man you may say but you don't know me. Have you spoken with the Devil? I have and he swears he's not to blame and I understood cuz I feel the same. You come at me with arms wide open but I stand alone. We're no heroes, and we're not made of stone. Right or wrong I can hardly tell. What am I, brave you may say but you don't know me. Have you heard from God? I have and he sounds just like me. "What have I done, and who have I become". What am I, normal you may say but you don't know me. Have you seen the Devil? I have and he looked a lot like me. (turns away) I'm not defending our downward decending that's falling further and further away, Getting closer everyday. You come at me with arms wide open but I'm not their anymore. Their is no heroes, and no one is made out of stone. Their is no more wright or wrong that I can honestly say. I'm on the wrong side of Heaven and the righteous side, the righteous side of Hell. So what am I now that you know me ? I'm dead.
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Mar 1, 2015
Mar 1, 2015 at 12:20 AM UTC
What am I?
Coming to a conclusion in mid-flight, Falling is and has always been my destination, How I can understand my family's frustration, I've been a terrorist on familiar grounds, Only to jeoprodize the well-being of thier well-being Making an easier outcome, Falling has always been my destination from the start. Thinking while I sit here alone, Incisions deep enough to feel my bones, Shades of vermillion paint my clothes and thoughts of cessation brings me close to home.
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Nov 18, 2012
Nov 18, 2012 at 1:55 PM UTC
Decending
Someone is drowning in a sea of faces. He never saw me but I sure saw him. And he was cast away to far off places, But where to bound, he'd never say. I see him draw a shallow breath, decending into the glassy oceans in his eyes. With all the pressure he is barely breathing. He seems as though he is barely alive. Where have you been to get here today? What have you done to become how you are? What have you seen to make it seem this way? You aren't here to catch the train at 8:15. I wanted to ask but I did and said nothing. And I became just another observer. And when the questions were finally answered, Before we could act, it was already over. The train came at 8:15. I never even knew his name. I should have asked him how he'd been. I never asked. We never do.
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Jul 24, 2016
Jul 24, 2016 at 5:24 PM UTC
8:15
**...Darkness of night Nightmares decending Creatures calling Opening facades; pretending Falling again, prawling Fighting, clawing Forever searching, Screaming, painful sounds Sounds painful, screaming Searching forever, Clawing, fighting, prwling, again falling Pretending; facades opening Calling creatures Decending nightmares Night of darkness...**
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Feb 21, 2012
Feb 21, 2012 at 3:02 PM UTC
Night of Darkness
I miss her! I miss the breath in my mouth! I miss the fallen hair on floor! I miss the smell in my bed! Is it the begin of my fall! Or am I in the middle of decending to inferno dark side of loneliness! Here I will oblige my pen to step! I will contain my heart beats within the chest that held years of secrets! No further spell of words on those white tempting papers! No more openness No more me! Sorry!
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Jul 23, 2016
Jul 23, 2016 at 3:58 PM UTC
Lost in my emotion!
*The crimson leaves Profilerate  the maples Each breeze removing their clinging fingers to the  beauty of life. Floating winding decending to the fragrances of autumn. That aroma of things to come irresistible yet dangerous They decend into the the Maelstrom of the season's. As they always have. No more the nightingale Or the resting swallow Shall adorn it's leafy conclave. Only skeleton branches Pointing like fingers Into the breath of winter Within its aincent tired roots. Beating stronger than any human heart. It has a vision. Of buds unfurled A green that no other spring has ever ever seen. of renewal that lives deep inside a knowledge. Far stronger than human intellect. Of a rebirth that Perhaps lives in everything Even creatures as temporary and frail as us.*
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Aug 31, 2016
Aug 31, 2016 at 9:45 PM UTC
rebirth ..inspired by the beautiful poetry of Rebecca Askew
Once I soared with eagles my guardian angel by my side. Walking tall with confidence caused my foes to run and hide. I chose my battles carefully; I picked the place and time. If any son dared cross me I knew his *** was mine. I remember ocassional setbacks; times when the going got rough, but the things that should only helped to make me tough. I guess I thought there was a God. I prayed once in a while, but I knew I didn't need his help to go an extra mile. I rebelled against authority; took all the freedom I could get. I could not allow myself to lose a fight; my *** ain't been kicked yet. Needing victory in every duel became my prison cell. As I leaned hard against the wind my soul set sail for Hell. I didn't know it left me; I didn't see it stray Fighting one last battle, it would just get in my way. This battle was the hardest; it took five years to win. Revenge and anger were my weopens; I wore them like a grin. When the fight was nearly over and victory was near, I prayed to God," return my soul" but He didn't seem to hear. I'd look for without Him; this heart that I had lost. I'd win it back all by myself no matter what the cost. Now standing on the pinnicle, I fearfully looked around. My soul would not have come up here; it's too far from hallowed ground. Starting back down along the path; frought with struggle and with strife, I found I was decending through the wreckage of my life. While pawing through the ashes of the bridges I had burned, I found the charred remains of all the lessons I had learned. Confused and battle weary; I could not tell wrong from right, but I prayed that at the freefalls end there might be truth and light. Now I'm lying in the smoke and fire at the crash site of my soul peering out through Godless eyes as a snake peers from his hole. I should have had some warning; a shot across my bow but my spirit spiraled down and down and look where I am now. Like a marble in a funnel, my soul spun 'round and down. With a lack of positive energy it finnaly hit the ground. Now I'm at the bottom With no way to go but up. God, please give me the strength to feed my soul; your sacred wine to fill my cup. This was the first poem I was ever able to right. At age 56 it came to me in a dream and I got up and wrote it down.
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Dec 10, 2014
Dec 10, 2014 at 12:17 PM UTC
Climbing to the Bottom
Once I soared with eagles my guardian angel by my side. Walking tall with confidence caused my foes to run and hide. I chose my battles carefully; I picked the place and time. If any son dared cross me I knew his *** was mine. I remember ocassional setbacks; times when the going got rough, but the things that should only helped to make me tough. I guess I thought there was a God. I prayed once in a while, but I knew I didn't need his help to go an extra mile. I rebelled against authority; took all the freedom I could get. I could not allow myself to lose a fight; my *** ain't been kicked yet. Needing victory in every duel became my prison cell. As I leaned hard against the wind my soul set sail for Hell. I didn't know it left me; I didn't see it stray Fighting one last battle, it would just get in my way. This battle was the hardest; it took five years to win. Revenge and anger were my weopens; I wore them like a grin. When the fight was nearly over and victory was near, I prayed to God," return my soul" but He didn't seem to hear. I'd look for without Him; this heart that I had lost. I'd win it back all by myself no matter what the cost. Now standing on the pinnicle, I fearfully looked around. My soul would not have come up here; it's too far from hallowed ground. Starting back down along the path; frought with struggle and with strife, I found I was decending through the wreckage of my life. While pawing through the ashes of the bridges I had burned, I found the charred remains of all the lessons I had learned. Confused and battle weary; I could not tell wrong from right, but I prayed that at the freefalls end there might be truth and light. Now I'm lying in the smoke and fire at the crash site of my soul peering out through Godless eyes as a snake peers from his hole. I should have had some warning; a shot across my bow but my spirit spiraled down and down and look where I am now. Like a marble in a funnel, my soul spun 'round and down. With a lack of positive energy it finnaly hit the ground. Now I'm at the bottom With no way to go but up. God, please give me the strength to feed my soul; your sacred wine to fill my cup. This was the first poem I was ever able to right. At age 56 it came to me in a dream and I got up and wrote it down.
Continue reading...
75
Down the rabbit whole dear Alice With all your bobs and lace Take heed fair beauty the fruminous peril at hand Beyond in this rational land Dont fear sweet maiden in the world of pomp and paradox You'll find you truely thrive For what is living if you dont feel alive! Where Cheshire smiles and cat call lads Label and obtuse You are uniquely you Unruley hair and all Just becareful my love on how hard you fall.
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Nov 13, 2015
Nov 13, 2015 at 6:39 PM UTC
Decending into Maddness
*The sun decending in the west, The evening star does shine, The birds are silent in their nest, And I must seek for mine. The moon, like a flower, In Heaven's high bower, With silent delight Sits and smiles on the night.* William Blake 1757--1827
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Nov 30, 2012
Nov 30, 2012 at 2:17 PM UTC
Night
decending into madness Its radaiting through my body Capturing my heart and soul what was once pure light is now pure darkness. My eyes a once vivd blue now tinted a cold black I feel it spreading coating me in a heavy web I feel it calling to me Wanting me for itself it calls to me Like a man to his lover Begging me whispering tantalizing promises making my body crave and want it The darkness within me It calls to me It wants me And I want it .
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May 29, 2014
May 29, 2014 at 2:33 PM UTC
The Darkness, It Calls To Me
The lime tree Stood on top Of The Hill, The ground around With limes Did it Fill One Decending lime Rolling to the Incline, Got itself Into a Spin Tumbling down With no Jill After Hitting the road side A car did abide,   By changing its Shape to Flat, But! Deep into The tyre grip Went a Pip Spinning around To the engine's Sound, It's DNA Got slightly Altered After coming to a Full stop, The fastidious Chauffeur Noticed, The Wheel didn't Need a Seed, Flicking it over a Wall, Where it landed Upon fertile Land As the seed started to grow It's branches began To twist Ten years went by As quick as a Roll Of you're Eye The land That the tree, Let It's roots spread free Also contained a Shack, And as the morning Broke, The old man Awoke Starting his daily routine, The days Always seemed The same, But He was clever enough to know, There was no-one To Blame But Himself, Life just seemed to Snooker him, Into this Pocket His only venture out, Was the local store, Supplying all that Was Needed But Before setting off, Something was calling to His Attention, The sound of a bird Never Heard Heading down The overgrown Path, The bird suddenly stopped, And While flying off, He saw something, Never seen Before A tree bering limes, From it's Corkscrew branches, But Not any old limes, Their skins Also Had a Twist Picking one up, Marvelling at the shape, He headed off to The store Arriving at the door, Felt like Not Before, This day was like No Other Gathering his supplies, Catching the Shopkeepers eye, "A very good day to you" "I don't mean to sound rude But you're in a good mood" She said, while giving Him a Smile "What would you think If I asked you out For a drink?" "I'd grab Hat and coat, Lock up this old store And we'd be on our way" With his best smile in years He said "Well let's go" Arriving at the bar, He asked for two Mojitos The barman Shook his head, "We're all out of limes!" The old man's eyes Lit up
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Nov 29, 2024
Nov 29, 2024 at 6:19 AM UTC
Once upon a lime
The lime tree Stood on top Of The Hill, The ground around With limes Did it Fill One Decending lime Rolling to the Incline, Got itself Into a Spin Tumbling down With no Jill After Hitting the road side A car did abide,   By changing its Shape to Flat, But! Deep into The tyre grip Went a Pip Spinning around To the engine's Sound, It's DNA Got slightly Altered After coming to a Full stop, The fastidious Chauffeur Noticed, The Wheel didn't Need a Seed, Flicking it over a Wall, Where it landed Upon fertile Land As the seed started to grow It's branches began To twist Ten years went by As quick as a Roll Of you're Eye The land That the tree, Let It's roots spread free Also contained a Shack, And as the morning Broke, The old man Awoke Starting his daily routine, The days Always seemed The same, But He was clever enough to know, There was no-one To Blame But Himself, Life just seemed to Snooker him, Into this Pocket His only venture out, Was the local store, Supplying all that Was Needed But Before setting off, Something was calling to His Attention, The sound of a bird Never Heard Heading down The overgrown Path, The bird suddenly stopped, And While flying off, He saw something, Never seen Before A tree bering limes, From it's Corkscrew branches, But Not any old limes, Their skins Also Had a Twist Picking one up, Marvelling at the shape, He headed off to The store Arriving at the door, Felt like Not Before, This day was like No Other Gathering his supplies, Catching the Shopkeepers eye, "A very good day to you" "I don't mean to sound rude But you're in a good mood" She said, while giving Him a Smile "What would you think If I asked you out For a drink?" "I'd grab Hat and coat, Lock up this old store And we'd be on our way" With his best smile in years He said "Well let's go" Arriving at the bar, He asked for two Mojitos The barman Shook his head, "We're all out of limes!" The old man's eyes Lit up
Continue reading...
147
Love, a flame that burns in water, When the ice melts, it but freezes, The hottest day departs, but it gets hotter; Leaving behind a husk, autumn deceases, But Love descends from the Heavenly Sky, To wake who died and perish all who ask, "Why?" What is it if not love? That is born when two hearts rhyme, What is it if not love? That lives between Death and Time. Ah! And Love never says the petty “good-bye”, ‘Cause it certainly returns, when say I, "Good-bye".
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Sep 12, 2015
Sep 12, 2015 at 12:46 AM UTC
Love, Decending From The Heavenly Sky
it burns too deep within my sight, the silvery bitter blackness that hangs upon the night.and into your grasp i am decending,  into the deep ,is myself ,that im sending, upon your great bow i stand open mouthed and bracing your emptiness seek what i once found out off a land i knew that existed before the great night was so solomly twisted into the torrents that so painfully blisterd because of the vastness i knew i had missed it ..so into the belly of the heart that had found it now cutting the ropes that had circled and bound it ,feeling the freedom that had so carefully bound the light that the night had so silently found.
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Jul 15, 2018
Jul 15, 2018 at 11:14 PM UTC
I knew I had missed it
Laying shallow in the darkness dept, Wishing there were a final step to be leapt, The Safety of her blankets near, But she couldn't get away from this kind of fear. Floating on this streamline bed, Her only thoughts were filled with dread. All the monsters knawed away Any faith she still had to this day. Submerged in this streamline bed, A note for tomorrow to be read. She once read in a book (or was it online) Still to this moment she managed alone, Because her parents were gone most of the time. (Her life to be the same percentage as her phone) "the morning is wiser than the evening" And yet after all this time she was still focused on leaving Decending in the streamline bed, Her soul was tossed to the demons-they deserved to be fed. A glimmer of peace, In the final defeat, Lost in this streamline bed, Her wish was granted-she was finally dead.
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Sep 20, 2017
Sep 20, 2017 at 12:34 AM UTC
Streamline Bed
*The crimson leaves Profilerate the maples Each breeze removing their clinging fingers of beauty of life. Floating winding decending to the fragrances of autumn. That aroma of things to come irresistible yet dangerous They decend into the the Maelstrom of the season's. As they always have. No more the nightingale Or the resting swallow Shall adorn it's leafy conclave. Only skeleton branches Pointing like fingers Into the breath of winter Within its aincent tired roots. Beating stronger than any human heart. It has a vision. Of buds unfurled A green that no other spring has ever ever seen. of renewal that lives deep inside a knowledge. Far stronger than human intellect. Of a rebirth that Perhaps lives in everything Even creatures as temporary and frail as us.*
0
Aug 31, 2016
Aug 31, 2016 at 9:45 PM UTC
Rebirth... Inspired by the beautiful poetry of Rebecca Askew
Jake Giles: Jake Giles: i thought about,what i would find a flawless glass of water colour that would slowly fill my mind,can you fathom the depth of the deepness?my only love for dark and light left sweetly with a weakness,and only you who feels thevastness could only go on and feel the light that burns the day into stillness i hang on the worlds beautifull illness.i gaze upon this world of madness and into my eyes leaks coluors of sadness,,even tho i lose i think im winning open your eyes,the world is beggining,so take you now shadows decending the orange and red in itself it is blending is your head or your heart that im mendind,,,and listen as the story goes the sweet warm air of the irish wind blows,,,,and that is how my story goes ..life is fine like wine life is fine ***
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Jul 15, 2018
Jul 15, 2018 at 8:51 AM UTC
A flawless glass of watercolour
Climbing up the mountain The summit to behold No holding to this moment Soul will not be sold Decending has it's lessons The journey must be made Mind must be free Never made a slave Ground level is for pondering Many holes to walk around Hold on to something half forgotten Strong will must be found One day on the horizon A mountain can be seen A calling to the summit, and everything In-between.
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Dec 31, 2023
Dec 31, 2023 at 5:52 AM UTC
The upside and the downside.