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"deluging" poems
*erstwhile a halcyon extant universe incessantly ceaseless cradled itself in hues of violet phosphorescence laced with cobalt shimmering stars perpetually whole it nonetheless sought to know itself encompassing all that is bubbling over in effervescent ebullience intertwined with indescribable catastrophic splendor it shattered into tens of millions of splinters of eloquent efflorescent light shining in the night each splinter heretofore imbued with sempiternal felicity began to conjure sumptuous dulcet elixirs furtively seeking out savory emollients to mollify the pique of separation plummeting they fell into monstrous competition seeking demesne they lost the purpose of gaining awareness and intelligent consciousness surreptitious estrangement overflowed deluging them in excruciating agony thus an epiphany was born the carving of the beleaguered fragments inked with tremendous pain created a transfiguration of splinters to crystals hence enlightenment commenced as the gems magnetized together constructing a world where omnipotence shines the ineffable beauty formed by the reintegration of crystals far exceeds the original as they dazzle with universal light bursting from diamonds etched in deep wisdom flooding the firmament with kaleidoscopic rainbow strobes cascading the sky ©2016janetaylor
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May 1, 2016
May 1, 2016 at 1:23 PM UTC
crystals of light
the sun is always shining i create the rain drowning in dark water deluging thunderstorms i obstruct the view twisting tourniquet shutting off the glow fatality is sure take flight in hurricanes live in the twister’s path cyclone is my choice whirling to my death the sun is always shining afraid it’s far too bright for me to grasp my power and know that i am light ©2016janetaylor
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May 21, 2016
May 21, 2016 at 10:05 AM UTC
raining sun
*hitherto i naively challenged my decision to enter an ominous existence a vicious maze veiled in obscurity inconceivable to navigate without the accumulation of bruises, heartache, and psychic mutilation the torment’s ache so unfathomable i begged to evaporate beseeching death’s arrival and with the dexterity of a masterful wizard i magically spun threads of my shredded soul into a mangled ball of mental lacerations then stealthily in the opaque of the night i rushed the frigid black ocean’s high tide and deluging myself in the ebony water i buried the battered ball now deeply eclipsed in the onyx abyss it sapped all my strength to hold it under drowning in the wave’s of sea motion stinging salt alive on my pours gasping for air i surrendered my grip releasing my marred orb of élan vital capitulating to the sand on the beach i ceded the fight and watched the sphere roll unraveling it glistened against the white sand an opalescent tapestry lit by twilight mirroring the stars against the coal sky in the lustrous lunar midnight reflected back by silver moonlight littered with specks of fluorescent insight astonished i drew in my breath as i read words interlaced in the untangled web the wounds are there creating a looking glass peer in and you will heal your own consciousness ©2016janetaylor
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May 3, 2016
May 3, 2016 at 8:06 AM UTC
looking glass
*Cimmerian Chaos, incediary The Requiem of the Revenant: Tis I, The Breathing Song Conjuring a vestige, Ensorcelled by what I'd been envisaging. Maimed by Tempus, The Temporal Arbiter Words reverberating on the wavelength of my soul Left me vibrating desolate and wayworn. Utterances deluging me in the Dominion of Doubt Until I reached a crossroads For perilous was the pilgrimage I peregrinated. The Penultimate Tribulation has begun And though angst is festering in my flesh, The Sacred Lotus of Dreams has not wilted, Shalt it ever upon the Lake of the Holy Oracle; Elysium of the Soul is awaiting those who are stalwart In the Visage of the Shadows.* ∞Hallelujah∞ By Sanders M. Foulke III
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Sep 29, 2017
Sep 29, 2017 at 5:32 AM UTC
The Requiem of the Revenant (Originally Penned in July of 2017)
We'd found an old Boche dug-out, and he knew, And gave us hell, for shell on frantic shell Hammered on top, but never quite burst through. Rain, guttering down in waterfalls of slime, Kept slush waist-high and rising hour by hour, And choked the steps too thick with clay to climb. What murk of air remained stank old, and sour With fumes of whizz-bangs, and the smell of men Who'd lived there years, and left their curse in the den, If not their corpses... There we herded from the blast Of whizz-bangs, but one found our door at last, Buffeting eyes and breath, snuffing the candles, And thud! flump! thud! down the steep steps came thumping And sploshing in the flood, deluging muck - The sentry's body; then his rifle, handles Of old Boche bombs, and mud in ruck on ruck. We dredged him up, for killed, until he whined 'O sir, my eyes - I'm blind, - I'm blind, I'm blind!' Coaxing, I held a flame against his lids And said if he could see the least blurred light He was not blind; in time he'd get all right. 'I can't' he sobbed. Eyeballs, huge-bulged like squids', Watch my dreams still; but I forgot him there In posting Next for duty, and sending a scout To beg a stretcher somewhere, and flound'ring about To other posts under the shrieking air. * * * Those other wretches, how they bled and spewed, And one who would have drowned himself for good, - I try not to remember these things now. Let dread hark back for one word only: how Half-listening to that sentry's moans and jumps, And the wild chattering of his broken teeth, Renewed most horribly whenever crumps Pummelled the roof and slogged the air beneath, - Through the dense din, I say, we heard him shout 'I see your lights!' But ours had long died out.
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The Sentry
We'd found an old Boche dug-out, and he knew, And gave us hell, for shell on frantic shell Hammered on top, but never quite burst through. Rain, guttering down in waterfalls of slime, Kept slush waist-high and rising hour by hour, And choked the steps too thick with clay to climb. What murk of air remained stank old, and sour With fumes of whizz-bangs, and the smell of men Who'd lived there years, and left their curse in the den, If not their corpses... There we herded from the blast Of whizz-bangs, but one found our door at last, Buffeting eyes and breath, snuffing the candles, And thud! flump! thud! down the steep steps came thumping And sploshing in the flood, deluging muck - The sentry's body; then his rifle, handles Of old Boche bombs, and mud in ruck on ruck. We dredged him up, for killed, until he whined 'O sir, my eyes - I'm blind, - I'm blind, I'm blind!' Coaxing, I held a flame against his lids And said if he could see the least blurred light He was not blind; in time he'd get all right. 'I can't' he sobbed. Eyeballs, huge-bulged like squids', Watch my dreams still; but I forgot him there In posting Next for duty, and sending a scout To beg a stretcher somewhere, and flound'ring about To other posts under the shrieking air. * * * Those other wretches, how they bled and spewed, And one who would have drowned himself for good, - I try not to remember these things now. Let dread hark back for one word only: how Half-listening to that sentry's moans and jumps, And the wild chattering of his broken teeth, Renewed most horribly whenever crumps Pummelled the roof and slogged the air beneath, - Through the dense din, I say, we heard him shout 'I see your lights!' But ours had long died out.
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38
Rain plummets from your branches to my face, Overflowing leaf's chimb Onto unvigilant ish limbs While my blinking eyes are dim, You long for an embrace, Without word yet of rejection, You are ever bold. You've thrown your achy breeze at me And now you throw those icy leaves at me Cause this pain to freeze in me. With your icy hold. I do not have a love for you Deluging tree. Stay close to your own stem, You're a cold love I condemn Leave me in my lonesome, Can you not see? I do not want your flowers, berries, branch nor bark I don't want your petals' play, Nor your leafy locks to sway, I want your leaflets to on this day remain at far. Your frosty touch on my skin it blanches I'm not ready for love so steely I suspect I never will be So stick to your own tree, please Rainy branches.
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May 17, 2017
May 17, 2017 at 7:14 PM UTC
Rainy branches
The yearning for Escape, a misinterpretation Conception instigated from understanding Unobtrusive acquiescence of unending comprehension Thoughts explode in the blue and rain down Lovely eruptions submerged in moonlight Showering the spheres with a dazzling gleam Deluging them with adoration and consideration Illuminating the path to eternity
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Jun 18, 2014
Jun 18, 2014 at 8:41 AM UTC
Sparkle
The following statements of truth were brought to you Not through, but circumnavigating fated parameters Of insane, yet normative, largely uninformative Mechanisms that formally give birth to ******** And instead, strategically splicing said bounds with Ideal variables derived from the courageously quixotic, Unrobotic, and outraged agents of, and for, capital Real: The train of corporate reasoning derails so fast To follow is to snap the head backward, Far past angles within measures of pleasurable fit And open gates to deluging tangled circular Failures of logic that trick and co-opt the proletariat. We are Present-Ambassadors with broken flux-capacitors Demonstrating a consistent tendency toward error In efforts to obtain diplomatic access to a future where The same reemerging deficits do not manifest unfixed. One of said deficits may include all positive freedoms. For the record, it shall be noted that civil society Currently arrives implicitly to find it compliantly fine To promote systems of labor designed to illicit behaviors That will eventually undermine the actors of exhaustive work And make benefactors of those complicit in crime. As case studies of this paradoxical paradigm, we observe Nations signing trade agreements aligned with Selling more of the goods whose extractions have Cataclysmic exactions upon locals contracted not to resist. Those who take issue with this are directed to appellate institutions. The projected scarcity of over-consumed poisons causes fear Which leads to faster hoarding and more ex(t/p)ensive death. Thus, most human behaviors presently inflate pricing, popularity, And rapidity associated with committing system-wide suicide. As shackle-some power consolidation bends toward a transnational peak I hereby slide-tackle these forwarded trends, seeking goals of the rational.
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Feb 19, 2013
Feb 19, 2013 at 4:16 PM UTC
For Consideration
The following statements of truth were brought to you Not through, but circumnavigating fated parameters Of insane, yet normative, largely uninformative Mechanisms that formally give birth to ******** And instead, strategically splicing said bounds with Ideal variables derived from the courageously quixotic, Unrobotic, and outraged agents of, and for, capital Real: The train of corporate reasoning derails so fast To follow is to snap the head backward, Far past angles within measures of pleasurable fit And open gates to deluging tangled circular Failures of logic that trick and co-opt the proletariat. We are Present-Ambassadors with broken flux-capacitors Demonstrating a consistent tendency toward error In efforts to obtain diplomatic access to a future where The same reemerging deficits do not manifest unfixed. One of said deficits may include all positive freedoms. For the record, it shall be noted that civil society Currently arrives implicitly to find it compliantly fine To promote systems of labor designed to illicit behaviors That will eventually undermine the actors of exhaustive work And make benefactors of those complicit in crime. As case studies of this paradoxical paradigm, we observe Nations signing trade agreements aligned with Selling more of the goods whose extractions have Cataclysmic exactions upon locals contracted not to resist. Those who take issue with this are directed to appellate institutions. The projected scarcity of over-consumed poisons causes fear Which leads to faster hoarding and more ex(t/p)ensive death. Thus, most human behaviors presently inflate pricing, popularity, And rapidity associated with committing system-wide suicide. As shackle-some power consolidation bends toward a transnational peak I hereby slide-tackle these forwarded trends, seeking goals of the rational.
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33
"Get out!" He yells; orders "Get out of the car!" I sit. "NOW!" I look around sorry faces gawk at me they should be sorry letting me fend for myself walking into the desert battlefield with me then stealing my bags and running away with sorry snickers sorry **** well should be. "I'M SERIOUS! GET OUT NOW! OR I'LL PULL YOU OUT!" I gaze out the window barren deserts, mossy, sandy mountains, endless stretches of hard, dead highway The lock unlocks, my belongings gather, my shoes go on, the handle moves, the door opens, my foot ventures to the sandy ground the door closes the engine starts the car moves away Sorry hands wave at me my body is still My face holds steady; a deathly glare of dementia The car disappears Realization slaps me dead in the face with its stone hard fingers. Did that really just happen? Am I truly all alone? I look around. NO people. NO cars. Just an endless stretch of highway Epiphany strokes me with fire warm palms. I'm alone! I'm alone! Sweet freedom! Sweet, sticky, horrid freedom! I hurl I cough and spit wheeze I wipe my mouth the saccharine taste of bile still fresh. I thirst. I grab my camel back and take a small, deliberate swig. I put on my backpack and stalk away from the speck of dust car. I grimace. I rummage through my never-ending pockets. I count out five dollars and seventy five cents worth of change. I grunt. I hike up the dusty trail. All ahead of me is sand and dust, sickness and deluging concepts of freedom. I march on. I feel the earth echo beneath me as each grain of sand separates. With each trudging movement my feet slip backward. With nowhere left to go and nothing left to do I walk on with my smile of freedom and my baggage of Desertion
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Sep 4, 2012
Sep 4, 2012 at 4:12 PM UTC
Deep Desert Desertion
"Get out!" He yells; orders "Get out of the car!" I sit. "NOW!" I look around sorry faces gawk at me they should be sorry letting me fend for myself walking into the desert battlefield with me then stealing my bags and running away with sorry snickers sorry **** well should be. "I'M SERIOUS! GET OUT NOW! OR I'LL PULL YOU OUT!" I gaze out the window barren deserts, mossy, sandy mountains, endless stretches of hard, dead highway The lock unlocks, my belongings gather, my shoes go on, the handle moves, the door opens, my foot ventures to the sandy ground the door closes the engine starts the car moves away Sorry hands wave at me my body is still My face holds steady; a deathly glare of dementia The car disappears Realization slaps me dead in the face with its stone hard fingers. Did that really just happen? Am I truly all alone? I look around. NO people. NO cars. Just an endless stretch of highway Epiphany strokes me with fire warm palms. I'm alone! I'm alone! Sweet freedom! Sweet, sticky, horrid freedom! I hurl I cough and spit wheeze I wipe my mouth the saccharine taste of bile still fresh. I thirst. I grab my camel back and take a small, deliberate swig. I put on my backpack and stalk away from the speck of dust car. I grimace. I rummage through my never-ending pockets. I count out five dollars and seventy five cents worth of change. I grunt. I hike up the dusty trail. All ahead of me is sand and dust, sickness and deluging concepts of freedom. I march on. I feel the earth echo beneath me as each grain of sand separates. With each trudging movement my feet slip backward. With nowhere left to go and nothing left to do I walk on with my smile of freedom and my baggage of Desertion
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64
I love you always, but when I see you A flood of endless affection bursts forth, Deluging my entire world.
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Sep 22, 2012
Sep 22, 2012 at 10:40 AM UTC
Flood Of Love (420)
***Poet, the soul of poetry Every stirring within Comes alive with words Feelings flows like rapids Cascading to greater depths Restlessness of the poet’s heart Makes an emphatic splash Over rocky beds of the fall Time and again they hurt Yet, feelings won’t stop flowing Creating more rapids Sometimes deluging the poet’s soul Poet, the soul of poetry Muse will always come to the rescue Poetry will always flow***
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May 30, 2015
May 30, 2015 at 7:24 AM UTC
Poetry will Flow
Of terrible storms that broke through the town Strangling, uprooting trees, slicing away Homes, a gurgling pulsating fury of air and rain That lasted four days. Unremitting, It brought huge waves in its wake From the tormented sea. All along the assaulted Coast people choked and drowned, Their corpses tipped Onto beaches huddled between ravaged furniture And drying plastic shopping bags, Swollen limbs nibbled at by fish and ***** And scattered throughout the streets Picked at by dogs, A feast that set them up For the coming cold weather. Fleeing birds Squalling overhead in clamorous flocks, plucked From the sky and shattered on rocks; The cats had a field day until Becoming engulfed too in marauding waves Deluging the land. Foxes screamed from the hopeless Shelter of water saturated dens; Only jagged ruins remained, Futile gestures to a once-only god. Towns inland were wrecked by the hurricane bursts And all fell silent as the storm Fled like a Viking raider back into the sea, dragging its Spoils.
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Apr 24, 2016
Apr 24, 2016 at 5:31 AM UTC
STORMS
Take my hand And feel the pulse Thumping in rhythm My heart to yours One, Two, Three Like a silent waltz My joy proliferates At your caress A race with no winner Through my veins Deluging my senses With a zenith existence Perfumes of you Saturate my every thought Stealing my focus Like ice and fire Stinging and warm Like a promise of tomorrow
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Nov 9, 2016
Nov 9, 2016 at 1:03 AM UTC
Caress
*there were endless baubled       babbles in her head, yet, she spoke nary a word, scribbled 'pon careful avenues     neath cautious sky cover, her notions were    silver lined intended       amidst dandelion wishes, but the waylaid winds   always whisked them away     as insignificant gray clouds          unquestionably appeared      beyond shadow's fair conditions,    whilst torrents smeared        a reigning scrawled disarray,   deluging what was left of           her frozen sunrise passages*
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Jul 14, 2015
Jul 14, 2015 at 12:09 PM UTC
Frozen sunrise passages
Another day has gone, night’s descended Lingering thoughts have ebbed Waves have left the shores of worries Deluging the castles of sand Washing away the pensive remnants Along with it dreams of vainness Carrying me along with the saline waters Filling my lungs to the brim Choking on the brine and spilling out anguish Clawing on every grain of sand for support Freely flowing out of my hands Nothing seems to stay, which I want to hold to Not finding my sinking feet to gain a hold The night sky offers ray of hope Fallen and defeated, fate washed away Night sky showers me with the stars Blinking far away, yet blanketing me Another day’s gone and night descended Under the canopy of night sky I find my abode, away from glaring daylight
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Jul 29, 2014
Jul 29, 2014 at 12:07 AM UTC
Another Day has gone
His love washes over me / Pristinely / Drenching me, deluging me / In surging airborne streams / A parcel of wind greets me / & raises me to Him. / In the Light of Dreams, of sweet reverie, / There I find Him. / Beside me he fulminates / Making me adamantine, / Diamonded / Glistening resplendently. / A place of concealment, a sanctuary, / He drenches me in His Light, baptismal, / Cascades me, / In its torrential downpour. / In stillness there is revelation, / In stillness there is clarity, / Though our hearts tremulous, may quake & tremble, / He awakens us anew each morn. /
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Dec 10, 2023
Dec 10, 2023 at 3:10 PM UTC
Amour Baptismal (Originally penned on Sunday, December 10th, 2023)
Why can’t anyone else hear the music? The sound so alluring and entrancing. It guides my every step in this melancholy world. It spins around me and in me like the quiet kiss of a an Autumnal breeze. The colors are sounds, every note a changing mood lifting my spirit with each new song. Each new aria swelling and deluging my soul. This feeling of devastating peace I cannot describe nor live without. So why can’t you hear it? Why can’t you feel it? It’s so emphatic so intrusive and belligerent  yet here I stand in the midst of this crescendoing chorus, ears ringing with this music but nobody dances. And no amount of sonder can take this isolating feeling away. This panging loneliness that cradles me. Why am I the only one? Why can’t you carry this sustaining chord along side me? I though I saw you hear it once. You blinked those dismal eyes at me and in them I saw you. They sparkled and opened up with the wonder of a child. Your head turned to the sound and your face softened to a visage I once knew. But soon they we’re shut. Clamped down and locked, choosing to be blind and deaf to the song. Turning away in shame and anger. Oh how ignorant you are, choosing to turn away from this beautiful epiphany that could set you free. How could you choose this life of apathy and abhorrence? Why do you turn your face from me? Is my music not enough? Here I’ll wait and dance. Spinning slowly to the sounds of my spirit. Singing along with my own song until the day you sing it with me.
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May 7, 2018
May 7, 2018 at 6:11 PM UTC
Why Can’t You Hear the Music?
Why can’t anyone else hear the music? The sound so alluring and entrancing. It guides my every step in this melancholy world. It spins around me and in me like the quiet kiss of a an Autumnal breeze. The colors are sounds, every note a changing mood lifting my spirit with each new song. Each new aria swelling and deluging my soul. This feeling of devastating peace I cannot describe nor live without. So why can’t you hear it? Why can’t you feel it? It’s so emphatic so intrusive and belligerent  yet here I stand in the midst of this crescendoing chorus, ears ringing with this music but nobody dances. And no amount of sonder can take this isolating feeling away. This panging loneliness that cradles me. Why am I the only one? Why can’t you carry this sustaining chord along side me? I though I saw you hear it once. You blinked those dismal eyes at me and in them I saw you. They sparkled and opened up with the wonder of a child. Your head turned to the sound and your face softened to a visage I once knew. But soon they we’re shut. Clamped down and locked, choosing to be blind and deaf to the song. Turning away in shame and anger. Oh how ignorant you are, choosing to turn away from this beautiful epiphany that could set you free. How could you choose this life of apathy and abhorrence? Why do you turn your face from me? Is my music not enough? Here I’ll wait and dance. Spinning slowly to the sounds of my spirit. Singing along with my own song until the day you sing it with me.
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28
The dream is one of life’s great ironies A word overfilled with the vaguest hopes A word impalpable, of fantasies And yet, the tangible within its scope When nightmares leave us restless and afraid Mother soothes her child with “it’s just a dream” But when bold men dreamt of what they then made Matrons held those thoughts with profound esteem Each is urged to trace whimsy’s beaconed path For boys and girls can be all they desire Heed not reality, nor aftermath Set reverie, each night, newly afire I found this same paradox to apply When I dreamt of you, my deluging love Saw heaven in the depths of your brown eyes But sleep’s hellish guile pained my heart thereof You smiled at me and walked amid soft light Under a glowing willow tree, we met For hours, as friends who were once lovers might We merged with warm embrace our silhouettes I cried for joy to hold what seemed so real Lost in you, I forgot of earthly time And to have foregone breath might bear appeal For, in that false world, you were truly mine This sweet conceit is such a cruel scheme For, when I wake, it’s always just a dream
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Aug 17, 2016
Aug 17, 2016 at 5:39 PM UTC
Just a Dream
From the epicenter of my heart Love reverberates in concentric circles Mild waves of feelings embrace you Deluging your heart in eternal love Feel my love nurturing your soul
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May 7, 2015
May 7, 2015 at 2:33 PM UTC
Eternal Love
Deluging emotions Drunken By Words Depicting the heart's state - In Discomposed scribbles Double Dutch those delineation-yet Desirable to devour more.
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Apr 9, 2024
Apr 9, 2024 at 5:32 AM UTC
Scribbles
Fat round raindrops fall And flood the fetid street, A warm, wet treat For an island owned by heat. A slippery deluge, a storm, Lamai welcomes the warm Caress of wet hot rain And I am birthed into this land, Into sun, colour, and sand. Waters break, A lake, deluging me Willingly, I bathe In amniotic rain Reborn, in heat, and hope, and pain.
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Apr 14, 2014
Apr 14, 2014 at 11:33 AM UTC
Koh Samui Rain
I take a trip back to the past All the while, seconds fly fast Reversing nature's clock of causality History distorts to become my reality Nightmares of darkness cloud my wake I rise and run for my life's sake Anguish claws me with devilish ****** Life eluding me, my timeline loses ticks But stepping though this terrible fate The clock rewinds again at an incredible rate Entering a new dream, I walk as I will In this heavenly home, so preciously still And in the distance, I see you and run   Towards you, I go to your glistening sun Met with curious lights, I wince my eyes And open them again to a resplendent prize A picture of the past, the dear angel I miss It overwhelms me with deluging bliss I see you, you whom I have loved so I've lost so much, why did you have to go? An embrace is placed upon my soul Laying to rest the price of my toll With tender strokes, you weave my peace My troubles are lost to time and cease With gentle steps, you fade into the white You tell me let go and I obey without a fight I smile, taken home to the present where I belong With a priceless silence where nothing is wrong The memories pass and lavish my heart A beautiful finale before my new start Everything is okay for I can happily smile Years can pass and they'll no longer be vile The past that's plagued me is my future no more My life is no longer lived with this timeworn war
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Jun 8, 2016
Jun 8, 2016 at 3:39 PM UTC
Time Travel
*This is how you know when love is true. When your senses are numb and yet it pains you so much still, like your lungs are being wring out of blood; like your spine is a tower of stacked-up bones, collapsing; and your words fail and your every desperate action is scarce and all you feel inside well up on your eyes, condensed in an oceanic, salty drop. When you are no one but a void, deluging tears; until your lap is a swamp of one part sorrow and ninety-nine parts nostalgia.*
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Feb 11, 2016
Feb 11, 2016 at 7:20 AM UTC
When Oceans are Tears
I enjoy my amazing paradise! It keeps my woes at bay The soothing scent of coconut palms With the summer breeze in sway I enjoy the clear sunrise! The heat of the Sun caress my face It keeps the fears from my mind’s eternal way With a scarcity of clouds to mask the gentle fray I am delightful of the time of existence here! The careless waves and transitional craves What shall happen on the next day? I dislike the sweeping monsoons As they howl with gross disapproval And the deluging rain that gouges down Drenches the hungry quicksand in which I drown…
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Jun 3, 2016
Jun 3, 2016 at 2:40 PM UTC
Palm Tree Slump
Words started flowing profusely Deluging the silence
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Sep 6, 2014
Sep 6, 2014 at 9:33 AM UTC
Words