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"descrying" poems
the nature of this night spreads its thin harvest upon my table a gruel and water porridge feast with the fanfares of her jaundiced hand many more lined up with eager grin for the warmth of paupers kinship thin blanket wrapped round our shoulders snow gathers at feet she captures the moment on paper the image of all of us gathered like when we were young the grandiose illustration with its brilliant colour fanfare with jugglers and wine swilling laughing men blinded by drink chorus line of female dancers who wear costumes of the hundred years war lead the assault on the last bastions of the ignorance of bliss all descrying that we can ill afford to be sleeping while empires are built in our namesake the so daintily shod soldiers whos feminine wiles misunderstood have taken over the dancehall beneath us and have taken up song the grandiose illustration caught by her pen on sketch pad has leanings to the Marxist revolutions and philosophys of the rhetorical but in the end we join them and drink the port sing the song a thousand years of tales to be told in the eyes of a single girls sweet thoughts epic landscapes filled with noble men and storybook girls the grandiose illustration shows the two of us on the beach with the sun racing down to touch the high towers of miami and fill the laughing joys of thouse who toss and tumble in the breaking waves the nature of this night in one small corner of the illustration a simple window with the shade drawn that says goodnight
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Feb 6, 2014
Feb 6, 2014 at 1:03 PM UTC
storm warnings
the nature of this night spreads its thin harvest upon my table a gruel and water porridge feast with the fanfares of her jaundiced hand many more lined up with eager grin for the warmth of paupers kinship thin blanket wrapped round our shoulders snow gathers at feet she captures the moment on paper the image of all of us gathered like when we were young the grandiose illustration with its brilliant colour fanfare with jugglers and wine swilling laughing men blinded by drink chorus line of female dancers who wear costumes of the hundred years war lead the assault on the last bastions of the ignorance of bliss all descrying that we can ill afford to be sleeping while empires are built in our namesake the so daintily shod soldiers whos feminine wiles misunderstood have taken over the dancehall beneath us and have taken up song the grandiose illustration caught by her pen on sketch pad has leanings to the Marxist revolutions and philosophys of the rhetorical but in the end we join them and drink the port sing the song a thousand years of tales to be told in the eyes of a single girls sweet thoughts epic landscapes filled with noble men and storybook girls the grandiose illustration shows the two of us on the beach with the sun racing down to touch the high towers of miami and fill the laughing joys of thouse who toss and tumble in the breaking waves the nature of this night in one small corner of the illustration a simple window with the shade drawn that says goodnight
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Our eyes have met in an unexpected way. He had caught my attention, and I started to behold. Things became a bit puzzling; but I kept myself descrying. As I perceived for so many days, weeks, months... something in me unfold. Things were revealed; then it showed complicated scenes. As I closed my eyes, he showed up in my dream. My heart beat for him; it felt good and seemed true. A tiny part of me loved him in a land of fantasy. Then I woke up- I am back in the reality, where my feeling for him is like forbidden. Now I couldn't wait for another night, to love him in my dreams. -Steph Dionisio, May 28, 2015
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May 27, 2015
May 27, 2015 at 1:05 PM UTC
® Forbidden Feeling
Piacular restitution suffering joyously The fallen order of Lilith; Sunsets secrets scribed defying Laws pneumatic A shamanistic seance peacefully Rousing the foundation of our belief, Dawns dreaming the fantasy of a seer- Palpitating asystolic within my chest The severed hand of God; twilights truth A stone tablet descrying My impetuous insubordination Breathing light upon a black lily My souls flayed flesh tear stained white Descending into Hades Unfathomable regions of despair As I watch them kneel beside my bed As if I am prey for those who pray for me Walking through Persephones garden. ELEETE J MUIR.
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Jan 13, 2012
Jan 13, 2012 at 9:50 AM UTC
Morphean Oneiromancy
Proud we stand, loftily in our ivory towers Proud we stand, bawling our boasts and feats Proud we stand, on the cold concrete we built In shame, I hung my head, fathoming our “powers” In grief, my quill broke his heart descrying our plight. Humanity bleeds as his ink flows in protean woe Love has lost its world, We estranged her away And the world lost its Love, We chased disarray All the colours in this world have run eerily cold Our eyes fixated on a global monochrome gold To bundles of printed paper, our soul… we sold. Humanity bleeds as his ink flows in protean woe Our vermilion blood has thinned, thinner than wine Onto our gashes, we had to dowse the thickest brine Blinded by rage, we parried the balsam to our souls Yet in an unhesitant grace, traces remain in our bowls Yet... Our calamitous claws yearn to rinse it off us Humanity bleeds as his ink flows in protean woe For an endless pursuit, in an unquenchable thirst, We ****** our heels onto them who cleansed them The hands which held us taut. we mangled them. All for an empty crusade seeking the same black We went rabid, scouring for an immortal fountain The answer was a drop of Love, now unobtainium.   Yet I anticipate in the warmth of a spring someday A few dewdrops and a little fountain emerging… Fountain so bountiful in Love, her arrival in glory. That day, my quill shall be healed and his ink resting
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Sep 19, 2021
Sep 19, 2021 at 2:50 AM UTC
The Forsaken Cinders of Love
*Push/pull, give/take Where there is desire there are possibilities Rigidity hinders bliss Concession is not surrender Surrender is not submission Acquiescence is acceptable While descrying harmony*
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Jan 26, 2014
Jan 26, 2014 at 1:57 PM UTC
Pettifogging
She’s perfect, isn’t she? That girl in front of you. Barely finite lines of gold and ochre Pure as thoughts from her head Luna-cloaked and markless Kohl and oak descrying The haze and high of your waking breaths Both in substance and in pleasure. Just what you always wanted. Not me. My brief and ebon-neared lines Murked by impure hazes Luna-pocked and touched Kohl and oak, but too-hard trying A breeze, gentle and cautious to remove the dream And give truth tangibility. Much too real for you. Perfect. Snow-goddess shoulders covered Just because you possess them Luna-soul untouched, unseen, Just for your security Empty breathing, nodding crown Ensynchroned, timed, with yours Every face, and every line Unbroken marble replica Of air How dare I. Goddess shoulders bare as when I please You could not possess them Luna-soul unsecreted but, Before you and your battering, unashamed Swimming, messy, living within my crown, Out of step and of my mind Every inch, an inch of mine How dare I be unbroken art Unbroken art of Earth Of air. Twisting 'round your fingers Curved into your body and your brain Bent whichever way you opt to bend her Over, under, and around. Into pain and pain-ed pleasure But always pain in pleasure and pleasure from pain Both and neither Either and physical or transcendental Always and never in your purpose Rarely and often from your desires. And she's so willing, the wind. Servility incarnate Submissive, crawling, pleasing unto you Easy girl But only to your touch Lest she be a ***** Formless, unreal shadow, But somehow air that no one else may breathe. Of Earth. I awoke in formless panic in a cold bare room After heart-pounding, frozen-dreaming Of how you left me in numberless shades Of black and blue and gray I had terrored and cowered Wondering if my strength would crumble Ever seeing you on your knees. Not because I fix on that Just because I felt afraid. Because you never laid a finger on me No, you never had to The Luna's cloak will mark itself When the core is hollowed cold. Yes, so perfect Is she? Just the way you like her. Insubstantial, shapeless No rigidity or life Submissive, satisfying Yes, the daydream on your screen That you try to say that you don't need Is everything that your earth desires For she is air and you are dirt All that the breeze can give to ground All that nameless women can give to you.
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Feb 12, 2015
Feb 12, 2015 at 3:37 AM UTC
Of Air and Earth
She’s perfect, isn’t she? That girl in front of you. Barely finite lines of gold and ochre Pure as thoughts from her head Luna-cloaked and markless Kohl and oak descrying The haze and high of your waking breaths Both in substance and in pleasure. Just what you always wanted. Not me. My brief and ebon-neared lines Murked by impure hazes Luna-pocked and touched Kohl and oak, but too-hard trying A breeze, gentle and cautious to remove the dream And give truth tangibility. Much too real for you. Perfect. Snow-goddess shoulders covered Just because you possess them Luna-soul untouched, unseen, Just for your security Empty breathing, nodding crown Ensynchroned, timed, with yours Every face, and every line Unbroken marble replica Of air How dare I. Goddess shoulders bare as when I please You could not possess them Luna-soul unsecreted but, Before you and your battering, unashamed Swimming, messy, living within my crown, Out of step and of my mind Every inch, an inch of mine How dare I be unbroken art Unbroken art of Earth Of air. Twisting 'round your fingers Curved into your body and your brain Bent whichever way you opt to bend her Over, under, and around. Into pain and pain-ed pleasure But always pain in pleasure and pleasure from pain Both and neither Either and physical or transcendental Always and never in your purpose Rarely and often from your desires. And she's so willing, the wind. Servility incarnate Submissive, crawling, pleasing unto you Easy girl But only to your touch Lest she be a ***** Formless, unreal shadow, But somehow air that no one else may breathe. Of Earth. I awoke in formless panic in a cold bare room After heart-pounding, frozen-dreaming Of how you left me in numberless shades Of black and blue and gray I had terrored and cowered Wondering if my strength would crumble Ever seeing you on your knees. Not because I fix on that Just because I felt afraid. Because you never laid a finger on me No, you never had to The Luna's cloak will mark itself When the core is hollowed cold. Yes, so perfect Is she? Just the way you like her. Insubstantial, shapeless No rigidity or life Submissive, satisfying Yes, the daydream on your screen That you try to say that you don't need Is everything that your earth desires For she is air and you are dirt All that the breeze can give to ground All that nameless women can give to you.
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Descrying; home invasion Obscure connotations; razors edge, double-edged sword Cupid misses the heart and stabs in the back. Gushing blood; vital organs severed **** Bang, Blow Don't hack my ****
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Jan 6, 2014
Jan 6, 2014 at 10:58 AM UTC
Pirate
Not now, nor past, nor future shall anguish Prevail in piceous depths betwixt Hell And Heaven bright whence He shall dwell, Despotic, casting voices to perish Where I, in sombre woe, conceive visions Of His tyrant reign. Grotesque agony Has been wrought by His seat, high, joyfully Quaking the decrepit Earth. Gaily Does His crown manacle our once free Souls. From death once wrought verisimilar chimes Of a nation brought to glory’s righteous Heart, but now pharaonic cries tread grim From the Second with such semblance of high, Righteous Sovran and now hath released His Ministers of Vengeance upon us whole. In atramentous grief, descrying the Bright cynosure in golden sleep beckon, The Heav'nly Muse my soul does possess.
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Dec 5, 2014
Dec 5, 2014 at 6:30 PM UTC
Milton's Dirge
Standing so free hanging close to the edge In waves of people I hear still silence Taking a last valiant leap off the ledge now savoring the wind’s subtle violence we've entered the sea of dark crimson red guiding us through open blue that we trust so close to the sky we might hit our head realizing your defiantly august i follow your lead and you follow mine traveling further into the expanse wishing there was not a concept of time good things always end with no second chance you take me back where you found me before, descrying the sound of the crowds once more.
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Sep 20, 2011
Sep 20, 2011 at 10:34 PM UTC
Leap
Showers from the heavens, stone, rock, iron, and ice news, at seven, and eleven, even if, not good or nice Triffids being planted, blindness, in meteoric wake human's showing human kindness, our survival, now at stake It doesn't seem to happen, every time one passes by what failure does to cheapen, as calamity undelivered nigh Like all those false prophets, descrying doom and gloom old and worn out promises, while hiding in our rooms I think tonight I'll take a stroll, and gaze upon the stars doubting disaster tolls, drowning fallacies, at my local bar
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Jan 3, 2017
Jan 3, 2017 at 2:19 PM UTC
Quadrantid rain
King of the vast lands is he For uncountable times he fell down Laborious is to stand tall and proud For many times, the ground kissed his crown It is he who basks on the throne The epitome of greatness and power But for the army dwelling behind his lids Never was he the commander Single-handedly built his grand castle Every brick is a dismal memory Deserted hallways, desolate rooms Visitors have been banned entry But one day, his towers littered with fire canons Shall be utilized for descrying the starry night And through the cracks on the colossal walls The sun shall penetrate him with light
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Feb 16, 2016
Feb 16, 2016 at 8:20 AM UTC
The King
Belle's rose, wilting one petal at a time The creation of Adam, gods hand yet to touch yours You're 0.8 secs away From descrying the back of their head disappear into the distance One last time Thats one heartbeat away From the inception of the everlasting process; the decay
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Jan 5, 2021
Jan 5, 2021 at 4:58 AM UTC
Untitled-2
belle's rose, wilting one petal at a time the creation of adam, gods hand yet to touch yours you're 0.8 seconds away from descrying the back of their head disappear into the distance one last time; one heartbeat away the inception of an everlasting process; the decay. languished simply, because of the life left within shoulders slouched, so as to crease what's in between you let out a sigh struggling to pick broken shards off the austere snow; blotching blood stains so diluted by what your eyes let go you realize what's so undoubtedly you; an overflow. an overflow of musing so raw, each drop a crystallized sapphire kernel burgeoning beanstalk in the hearts of every passerby all led to the glasshouses you once vowed to unfalteringly stand by the refracting light dilating naked memories; an open invitation to pry you lack distrust that things could ever go awry; they do. stubborn; you never learn; you live in denial, waiting for their return your presence incomplete; the twinkle in your eyes masking your defeat your glasshouses broken and beat; slow deplete repeat repeat repeat you fight shy of taking up space last row corner seat, you almost always leave without a trace your voice too mild to return an echo, your soul leaking too gentle to show you long for warmth, yet you leave behind nothing to embrace. you know. a paradox on your own; you're a daunting dilemma you can love into thin air, hushed or acapella your burning eternal, yet you soothe all fire hollowing for your world, but there's nothing you desire your heart's been plucked from the souls you've warmed only to be left astray in the cold yet you pick the pieces less frozen and hand it over for them to hold obscure; oblivious, and obedient to everyone but your own you're fighting battles; for everywhere but home withering and drifting brittle dust in the breeze worn out to the extreme bittersweet; free potpourri p o t p o u r r i
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Jan 29, 2022
Jan 29, 2022 at 1:40 AM UTC
Potpourri
belle's rose, wilting one petal at a time the creation of adam, gods hand yet to touch yours you're 0.8 seconds away from descrying the back of their head disappear into the distance one last time; one heartbeat away the inception of an everlasting process; the decay. languished simply, because of the life left within shoulders slouched, so as to crease what's in between you let out a sigh struggling to pick broken shards off the austere snow; blotching blood stains so diluted by what your eyes let go you realize what's so undoubtedly you; an overflow. an overflow of musing so raw, each drop a crystallized sapphire kernel burgeoning beanstalk in the hearts of every passerby all led to the glasshouses you once vowed to unfalteringly stand by the refracting light dilating naked memories; an open invitation to pry you lack distrust that things could ever go awry; they do. stubborn; you never learn; you live in denial, waiting for their return your presence incomplete; the twinkle in your eyes masking your defeat your glasshouses broken and beat; slow deplete repeat repeat repeat you fight shy of taking up space last row corner seat, you almost always leave without a trace your voice too mild to return an echo, your soul leaking too gentle to show you long for warmth, yet you leave behind nothing to embrace. you know. a paradox on your own; you're a daunting dilemma you can love into thin air, hushed or acapella your burning eternal, yet you soothe all fire hollowing for your world, but there's nothing you desire your heart's been plucked from the souls you've warmed only to be left astray in the cold yet you pick the pieces less frozen and hand it over for them to hold obscure; oblivious, and obedient to everyone but your own you're fighting battles; for everywhere but home withering and drifting brittle dust in the breeze worn out to the extreme bittersweet; free potpourri p o t p o u r r i
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