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"detoxifying" poems
Seeds of the Dandelion appear intertwined; Tightly woven tendrils weave and hold in close bond; Stretched fingers offer anchor for each other, though hesitant. When the time is right and the slightest wind blows, seeds of the dandelion                go. Parachutes of white snow. A moment in time stalk stands naked in the wind, having lost everything; Though the taproot runs deep and in reality, millions more will seek a new birth. We may think it a waste, unwanted seeds being placed hither and yon. But what about the Dandelion? Some call this **** a ruderal this “lion’s tooth” with the long taproot feeding bees and butterflies. With detoxifying properties, this plant has seen atrocities of prejudice, bigotry and intolerance; But it just goes on to do it’s job holding on as long as it can til the parachutes of snow                  go and the cycle of life repeats. © Marlene Dunham 2010
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Jun 26, 2010
Jun 26, 2010 at 12:07 PM UTC
Dandelion
Physical and spiritual ecstasy Sharing a meditative experience within this circular flow of energy Wave after wave of cosmic telepathy Diving into our heavenly destiny Biochemical magic; tremendously healing and aligning chakras pleasantly Absorbing the suns energy and visualizing the manifestation of longevity all the while detoxifying and transforming monumentally
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Sep 14, 2014
Sep 14, 2014 at 7:42 AM UTC
Connected
Incandescent The frost coats our windowpane, and outside the world sleeps in its arctic cocoon. You are my fire, we are wrapped up in our warmth while staring at the moon. The pheromones in the air produce pins and needles which tingle up my skin. Acupuncture to heal my sickness for love, detoxifying me from within. If I were angry you would pacify me. If I had a disease you would medicate me. I once was blind, but now I can see, that with you, my wise master, I can erase the past and rewrite history. Winter creeps up with its icy touch, looking to barren my soul. But enveloped in your embrace, I have full control. Turning up the heat to help me survive, this journey we have, all through the night. The frost coats our windowpane, while you glaze my heart with your warm honey… Restore my oxygen, pump my veins, Turn up the dial on by body a few degrees. Even if the world freezes over from Winter’s mad spell, we will still live through the Cryogenics of our love, and deny all law of physics. For as long as your heart is beating… mine will reside- although the world sleeps through the storm, while frozen on the outside. But the brilliance of our love will always be… Incandescent. Kena SunGoddess Dawn 2009
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Jun 15, 2013
Jun 15, 2013 at 9:22 PM UTC
Incandescent
Words over stupid **** about words over more stupid **** Showing of teeth like foaming mad curs. Bumping chests like gorillas being ****** Standing ground like alley cats. Threatening to leave one, daring one to leave. One staying behind, one going. A perfectly hung door angrily slammed. 5,000 miles of tire tread burned into the driveway. One not knowing where he will sleep tonight, one wondering if he is really gone this time. Get some gas, drive around re-acting the night. Roll down the window to cool down. Realize there is no where to go. Park and think, re-acting the night. Night air detoxifying the insanity of anger. Start the car, return to the scene of the scene. Stealthily pull into the abused driveway. Wait til she goes to bed. Quietly slink into the blue guest room. Try to sleep but toss and turn and re-act the night. Finally shut down the internal conversation at 4am. Morning, oh God facing her. Wait! She said just as much stupid **** as I did last night. I'll make waffles, and French press.
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Feb 22, 2013
Feb 22, 2013 at 1:35 AM UTC
The Tiff
there's something that makes me this way wandering, lost, in a world of our very own. I can't truly expound it, but really want to try maybe it should be this way & you shall not cry. and how those clouds hold the rain, and how the Sun reflects the perfect scenery, you carefully keep me in vain, illuminating those image of beauty, auxiliary. thank you for the days we shouldn't forget, gratitude been told intensely ****** i don't mind being intoxicated by the love -you dictated. don't ever stop & never cease. for my love for you will never decease. and that's a promise I guess, will forever keep.
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Dec 15, 2014
Dec 15, 2014 at 8:09 AM UTC
detoxifying bleeding heart
My whole body cries Simply, for you to caress my cheek. My skin is eager to feel the warmth on my neck, Coming slowly from heated breath. It makes my heart pitter patter, Even more than now, faster and faster. The thought of you, detoxifying my soul.
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Jun 24, 2015
Jun 24, 2015 at 7:08 PM UTC
A Physical Grief
It’s a Hard Knocks Life. Learn, unlearn, violence, survive, thrive, and drive on. The old mind. To sit and listen to the words being uttered by those who have seen many things and done many but have not been through many winters. The mind like the liver, always replenishing, always detoxifying, understanding sordid experiences, taking in only that which is needed and defecating that which is not. The old mind, an androgynous creature of the divine, collector of tales, never a shape but ethereal, and delicate. A place where I would return to become young, to empty my thoughts of judgements, to sacrifice and become anew. The old mind like the snake sheds its designer skin of camouflage. Life and-or death, but the old mind remains. Knowledge replenished. Identity affirmed, the old mind becomes a new, designs and redesigns, coalesce living experiences.
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Apr 15, 2016
Apr 15, 2016 at 12:06 PM UTC
**The Old Mind**
The bird song anchors my soul, Soothing any quiver of anxiety Keeping my ship stable and steady. Sweet shrills and cheery echoes soften my breath, As my limbs gently fall to rest. Innocent symphonies rippling through the air, Offering divine headspace Detoxifying unwanted bugbear. I'm at one with the earth Alive in the moment My stronghold of calm A serenity so potent. No drug can emulate this untarnished moment of peace A gratifying tension release. So pure and still I can hear the rise and fall of my chest, Like blissful waves lapping onto virginal marble sands.
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Sep 1, 2017
Sep 1, 2017 at 2:41 AM UTC
Mindful
i've tried to start writing again a dozen times. at least. but i think of every single one of you every time. most people view writing as a release. some sort of blissful experience where letting their fears flow out of their minds and onto a paper is relaxing. detoxifying. some sort of therapy that they can provide for themselves that no one else can. i don't. writing is protection. writing is a safety net that causes suffocation. writing is hiding behind ink that can just barely be traced back to your own true thoughts and words. writing is you. writing was never me. but that's why i cling to it so tightly, isn't it?
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Jul 11, 2018
Jul 11, 2018 at 9:41 PM UTC
ii.
As for Life, I have nothing much to say. It's hard and it's lonely, but I guess it'll be OK. I guess you'll find contentment in the little joys as they come. I hope you will. And I hope you'll remember not to hold on too tightly to their memory when they're gone. And as for Love, if you ever find it, keep it. Swallow it into your soul even deeper than your darkest secrets. Don't ever hurt it, don't ever mistreat it. Just know that you're fortunate and embrace it. Just be it. As for Tears, I have too much to say. So let's make it short - tears from the soul don't easily wipe away. Tears are detoxifying and wash our spirit clean. Though they do hurt, they'll heal you and your bitter dreams. And as for Love, you know it's the greatest joy. You know it's all you've ever wanted since you were a little boy. You'll search for it forever, it's a dream you'll always be chasing. It's all that can pull you through, even when it's Death you're facing. And as for Death, is she silent, is she sweet? Will she kiss you when you're awake, or take you when you're asleep? Will you embrace her body as she stands before you, unclothed? Or will you be faithful to Life, and stay on your chosen road?
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Nov 19, 2015
Nov 19, 2015 at 4:13 AM UTC
As For Love. . .
we make b-lines to hanging lamps in the black morning fog gifts of kisses of playful smiles detoxifying laughing shoulders were these mystic lights here last night? or were we always blind to such things?
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Oct 5, 2016
Oct 5, 2016 at 8:41 AM UTC
into the mystic