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"desisted" poems
It is of my opinion that you have desisted in truthiness. And as such, you will hence forth be known as a 'Teller of Untruths.' As a result, I do believe your trousers have combusted. You are a blaggard and a rapscallion. Good day...
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Jan 11, 2016
Jan 11, 2016 at 6:28 AM UTC
Fibber Face
I felt his ring around my finger Before we’d even touched hands. A meek merchant of charm, He desisted from cheap sentiments And instead borrowed a will of silence From some eastern monastery or other, Citing his affections through silent smiles And a shrug of his shoulders which told me: “I am as baffled by this world as you are, dear. For far too long I have had to lean on one leg Whilst standing, to ease my ache, to wait things out. Come, sit with me.” And so I did. Resplendent white, some archaic sentiment Of false-purity – it bathes me. Washes me of colour, ‘till I’m baked in the reflective glow of sunlight, Rinsed of history, of time, treasures and identity. I’m his now. This full-bodied mirror, she stands so ungainly In her bridal pose. A slapstick siren, a young deer On stilts; A stretch of church floor to hesitate over Upon hatching. She must make it to the sea. In this reflection, I see neither him nor I, But a composite of his kindness, my eyes; Small forget-me-nots of a daisy-chained child And a waysided academic. It’s not my fault, nor his. Our dreams were wasted By fairytales, poisoned by old fortune. No story Succeeded, no narrative complete, ‘till love is resolved, Until love is in place. I felt his ring around my finger Before we’d even touched hands. For, why would I ever care to scale such mountains, In a world he casts so temperate and sure? So with each year that shall pass, From now ‘till some curtained collapse, I shall reduce in my margins, Fragmented elements and forgotten scope; I dissolve unto him, Stagnant upon his solution.
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Nov 25, 2013
Nov 25, 2013 at 11:09 AM UTC
The Qualified Woman
I felt his ring around my finger Before we’d even touched hands. A meek merchant of charm, He desisted from cheap sentiments And instead borrowed a will of silence From some eastern monastery or other, Citing his affections through silent smiles And a shrug of his shoulders which told me: “I am as baffled by this world as you are, dear. For far too long I have had to lean on one leg Whilst standing, to ease my ache, to wait things out. Come, sit with me.” And so I did. Resplendent white, some archaic sentiment Of false-purity – it bathes me. Washes me of colour, ‘till I’m baked in the reflective glow of sunlight, Rinsed of history, of time, treasures and identity. I’m his now. This full-bodied mirror, she stands so ungainly In her bridal pose. A slapstick siren, a young deer On stilts; A stretch of church floor to hesitate over Upon hatching. She must make it to the sea. In this reflection, I see neither him nor I, But a composite of his kindness, my eyes; Small forget-me-nots of a daisy-chained child And a waysided academic. It’s not my fault, nor his. Our dreams were wasted By fairytales, poisoned by old fortune. No story Succeeded, no narrative complete, ‘till love is resolved, Until love is in place. I felt his ring around my finger Before we’d even touched hands. For, why would I ever care to scale such mountains, In a world he casts so temperate and sure? So with each year that shall pass, From now ‘till some curtained collapse, I shall reduce in my margins, Fragmented elements and forgotten scope; I dissolve unto him, Stagnant upon his solution.
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40
Today the Sunday special brief iCloud online worship session, I did attend (via remote support) found me feeling pampered, when adept technical support didst figuratively bend over backwards, thus aye defend glorious, righteous, and zealous Gurus who did expend their religious fervor, without proselytizing and sanctified dedication they proffered as if this secular chap hapt tubby a long time Facebook friend diligently persevered amidst my woeful yelping alarm where bot sized wetbacks, setbacks, and drawbacks, required a secret char which this netizen vaguely understood as unfair be-tidings disallowing thyself to purchase additional farm ming out iCloud storage in the deleterious harm akin to buggy ah mush swarm comprised documents (painstakingly slaved over with zest) plus sundry data necessitating mooch *** legal tender (probably every last red cent of mine) to in vest concerted efforts of at least one expert to test her/his mettle in an attempt (dim prospect) performing an in quest to retrieve valuable data lost amidst a nest of inaccessible "lost" information (bantering with computer jargon more so jest with no intention to "FAKE" trumpeting minimal knowledge judiciously impressed upon thine fifty plus shades of gray matter, at my be hest expressing scant cumulative disc cussing duff frag minted understanding lest, a personal goal to incapsulate in poetic best not abandoning frustration with this Macbook Pro cuz, positive experience wrought with Apostles eye attest, so rather then vent my spleen in vein hie desisted to rage against the machine, and tack toward being urbane thus, rejoicing with a cherry, hearty, and mighty byte hooray, asper driving, exercising, and foisting gentle circuitry vis a vis neurotransmitters and neuromodulators nudging pull-ups within cerebral terrain.
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Jul 1, 2018
Jul 1, 2018 at 7:17 PM UTC
Benediction For Lord Apple Macintosh
Today the Sunday special brief iCloud online worship session, I did attend (via remote support) found me feeling pampered, when adept technical support didst figuratively bend over backwards, thus aye defend glorious, righteous, and zealous Gurus who did expend their religious fervor, without proselytizing and sanctified dedication they proffered as if this secular chap hapt tubby a long time Facebook friend diligently persevered amidst my woeful yelping alarm where bot sized wetbacks, setbacks, and drawbacks, required a secret char which this netizen vaguely understood as unfair be-tidings disallowing thyself to purchase additional farm ming out iCloud storage in the deleterious harm akin to buggy ah mush swarm comprised documents (painstakingly slaved over with zest) plus sundry data necessitating mooch *** legal tender (probably every last red cent of mine) to in vest concerted efforts of at least one expert to test her/his mettle in an attempt (dim prospect) performing an in quest to retrieve valuable data lost amidst a nest of inaccessible "lost" information (bantering with computer jargon more so jest with no intention to "FAKE" trumpeting minimal knowledge judiciously impressed upon thine fifty plus shades of gray matter, at my be hest expressing scant cumulative disc cussing duff frag minted understanding lest, a personal goal to incapsulate in poetic best not abandoning frustration with this Macbook Pro cuz, positive experience wrought with Apostles eye attest, so rather then vent my spleen in vein hie desisted to rage against the machine, and tack toward being urbane thus, rejoicing with a cherry, hearty, and mighty byte hooray, asper driving, exercising, and foisting gentle circuitry vis a vis neurotransmitters and neuromodulators nudging pull-ups within cerebral terrain.
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64
*Memorising her childhood days,vacations,grand parents Grandmother with eyes on road waiting the arrival of her grandchildren Woke her up the horn of cars getting into the courtyard Eyes filled with tears of happiness seeing her family Running towards expecting a grand hug Busy in their world of technology desisted unnoticed Grandmother's priceless valuable love for them Seconds,minutes,hours,days bygone House filled with members of her family Where she alone with nothingness of love Abandoned in a corner with a heavy heart*
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Feb 23, 2017
Feb 23, 2017 at 6:39 AM UTC
Priceless Love
Touch me with your heart, my love, as we once did so very long ago. Let the tip-tap of nostalgia dangle perceptions of what once were. I desisted from being content when you mentioned it was over. The day I moved my treasures out was a day linked in melancholy. Oh my lover, oh my forgiven wife, trip your way back over here. Remember the slurping grasping that so occupied our time. Touch me with your heart, my love, come back from the new that you are. Let me stroke your inner vision to see me again as your special one.
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Apr 24, 2016
Apr 24, 2016 at 3:56 AM UTC
Touch Me With Your Heart, My Love
Panic ensues, desperate OCD I know I'm truly crazy What to do with this **** phone? The call I want won't come through on its own I need it, can't destroy it Right now I'd like to boil it I need to be away from civilization I'm not made for normal conversation I tried to turn it off and it resisted I had to press real hard, but finally it desisted. Peace.
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Jan 1, 2013
Jan 1, 2013 at 8:14 PM UTC
Woman v. Phone
That repulsive thing It removes every living thing in its path It brings destruction, agony, jealousy, depression , regret, hopelessness, never ending war It **** my mother and my brothers It desisted my world   That repulsive creature
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Aug 2, 2015
Aug 2, 2015 at 2:07 PM UTC
That Thing
The poem was far away and returned from so many deserts he was. In solitude, he toured the country in the half the world and between sea and sea and two oceans, but also the same everywhere. But he never desisted because wanted to find something more. Again, the poem went more and more away and kept looking even he traveled missed from one place to another. Finally, decided to return to the edge of his beginning travel. Perplexed I read his final writing:... "Behind the Galaxy Edge, speaks indigent the same caveman "...
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Oct 26, 2016
Oct 26, 2016 at 8:59 PM UTC
Samsung Galaxy, Edge.
Drinking delectable daylight of our dreaming days, Daft and dandy, dizzily darting in delusion, Dabbling in daffodils, dandelions and daisies, Doped-up ditzy, dilly-dallying in distortion, Drifting delightful in daydreams of dragons dancing, Desires dreamed-up, duly delivered, Designer’s defined deed decreed, Duty distinguished - Dashed and desisted! ****** and defiled! Drunkenly dackeringly, deviously defyingly, The Doting damsel disobeyed! Darkly devouring devilish devices discovered dangling. Deliciousness decayed. Discharging dismally dismantling The Divine Delusion, Drooping, dripping, dropping in deepening descension Divinity despoiled by demonic dissension, Decapitated demons dressed in damnation, Denounce defamation, detest destitution, Demanding the dawn with deathless devotion, Deft daring darkness, distressed desolation, Dreamless dejection dragging delirium. Is Death the depth of dreaming? Dwell dwindlingly, and disappear? Drawn down darker…destined to drown, or Drop into dreams deeper than death?
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Jun 25, 2025
Jun 25, 2025 at 1:41 PM UTC
The Doting Damsel Disobeyed 🍎