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"diety" poems
I am the sly fox Sacred and misleading My spirit, You worship A treasured diety Beautiful, though I am I am horrible within Tread carefully Treat me with care Or ignore me, if you so dare I am the sly fox Colorful and cruel Loyal, though I am Don't ever take me for a fool My spirit Is in the air I can hear you Anywhere Don't underestimate A wild fox That can't be tamed We are born to destroy For, destruction flows through Our veins Be ever wary Stay alert Keep your voices Hushed and unheard The sly fox Is on the loose And knows of no boundary
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Nov 22, 2015
Nov 22, 2015 at 2:30 PM UTC
Fox Spirit
For 939 years he is living To live such a long long long life I do not know if it is a curse or a blessing Centuries swiftly passes somehow Past to present, present to future He was there before, he is here until now Every death of friend or foe He witnesses and will never forget Left alone, soul is full of woe The Goblin’s immortality Was said to be a punishment And never an eternal tranquility The sword stuck in his heart Is the key to death he longed for Then only his life and misery will depart It is only the Goblin’s bride Can pull out the sword in his chest So for centuries he searched for a wife Until fate finally reveals itself One look, ahh, a lovely bride he met Sad love he utters to himself This love will cause him death But after a long time, it made him feel alive Now he don’t want to lose his breath But his choice will only bring demise And his newly found happiness Will only last until his bride dies Pull out the sword, the Goblin will turn into ashes Let him live and his bride will die What a tragic story, love until one perishes *“I have to disappear to make you smile This is the decision I have to make, I have to end my life”* It was long ago planned by a diety Immortality not a reward but a punishment A sad love, it was their destiny
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Jan 24, 2017
Jan 24, 2017 at 8:54 PM UTC
Goblin
I have a habit of hypnotizing myself I like to put on my veil a shroud of alteration marry myself to the haze again & again I baptize everyday before I light the world on fire lose myself in the afterglow live in the confusion I love the girl who is the sister of Leila, Ophelia, Astrid o, Sweet Mother Mary pray for me, stuck in melancholy & losing ground unity in Heaven's Rose you are euphoria mostly because I have arranged my wills to center & propel those wills of yours think for me show me I can't live without you can't do for myself what you do for me let's swim in the river where I forget everything for a little while enrapture me all day every day all ways
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May 29, 2013
May 29, 2013 at 4:57 PM UTC
Diety
MAHA SHIVA RATHRI Truth, goodness and beauty are eternal trinity They are the qualities of rarity and divinity Today the Hindus celebrate maha shiva Rathri(the great night of goodness) may this Hindu festival bring upon you all brightness and greatness! Christians believe only Yahuwah as reality Muslims regard only Allah as divinity but Hindus believe that God dwells in every entity and worship every plant, mountain, river as Diety Atheists plead God as mere irrationality but nobody can deny the trinity which are more internal than external God may not be truth but truth is God God may not be beauty but beauty is God God may not stand for goodness but goodness is surely God Let us all strive for the trinity Truth, goodness and beauty
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Mar 2, 2011
Mar 2, 2011 at 5:26 AM UTC
MAHA SHIVA RATHRI (THE GREAT NIGHT OF GOODNESS)
Melodious moonlight thy clear liquid spreads painting all in lavender hue and moistening lips wait for the kiss of your words, muse You sing through her parted lips your cryptic hymns and poetry, words wound together in strange nightly meter that twist together and shift like tree limbs tangled and petals cast down the stream To bathe in the rippling water and wait for clarity to wash away the rough edges of the mind let the stones become smooth and mind like bowstrings, taughtened. But the crowds protest in collective indignation all members chained together by common trepidation lest altars crack under the weight of strange words and the diety's light grows dim they sharpen what was dull and loose arrows in laughing mirth into bodies' crooked minds uninhibited and feet unshackled The ones in the crowd yell with groans and laughter but they groan also with the pain of what is constant death and birth... they are resigned to their tradition's lies and perish ten thousand times. Nascent generations yell out in incredulity until voices become hoarse and skin turns gray, resign themselves to murmur their insolence in dreams as they whither slowly away. But the one who, in nighttime, sings and bestowed by muse's mind, from human lips part words and strange poems spoken blaspheme will live but once and one day rest by the shifting branches and on grass by trickling stream and not by chain's clanking arrest.
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Oct 9, 2018
Oct 9, 2018 at 11:26 AM UTC
The Muse and the Crowd
It all started here; Some thirty students- Minds controlled by their puppeteer, Walked in clueless My mind came colorful, progressive- Only my beliefs sprouted! The seed had already been expressive Just- the stem was clouded The renaissance fertilized the soil Dry, cracked, barren, deprived; Destitute of the benevolent oil- Used to awaken thoughts: revived But what truly blossomed my bud- Were the French philosophes, Who's blue, liberal blood- Solidified my leftist approach I have always been the optimist; Through many deaths and rebirths- I knew it wasn't the apocalypse, And instead kept the beauty of earth Because I filled my life with fascination, My opinions bloomed:bright and rich. The rain could not cleanse my veneration, Not to a diety, but to my democratic itch My petals are strong to hold bees- Who cannot fly or make honey It's my civic duty to fight this disease That in life- one is subject to money However, I am not just one of Paine's flowers, I am an independent with liberal powers.
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Jun 2, 2014
Jun 2, 2014 at 1:39 AM UTC
Les Fleurs de Thomas Paine
Elaborate a little on the empty space. canvas Fill it with spills. It all seems so accidental, did you bring your credentials? Passwords linger throughout the discussions, reason & recognize Act with the valor of lightning and they will stumble like thunder... Timber. Down falls another point on the pop chart. Playing tic tac toe till the the tacs tic down by the toe, action falls into a drifting memory and crumples at the custodial hour. Feet pounding time on the tiles Repititions, turning inches to miles... Progress?? Does the diety of a paragraph outshine the novel drifter?? I mean, both read only one line at a time...
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Feb 20, 2013
Feb 20, 2013 at 12:25 PM UTC
Elaborate
hi, how are you today? i've broken every bone in my hand writing you this letter i've hidden away every past mistake in the cushions of your puke green sofa every broken promise from an ingrained diety coffee cups and cutlery that i keep as monument to one night spent with you a thousand killing smiles and a hundred stolen kisses i bend my knees and take a shot of clarity the outline of dreams and IOUs the place where awkward belongs the sign of recovery hides in a dimly lit alley ***** and hungry and lonely and desperate.
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Nov 27, 2011
Nov 27, 2011 at 8:36 AM UTC
broken
this love is now & new & once again stabbing @ me like durga-like diety with sweet golden daggers an essential togetherness teasing out of these odd surroundings I was listening to Jack Kerouac on the way home in his mad bop rhapsody apocalypse streaming out my speakers while familiar streets crawl past once again I'm thinking as the day old glum spread over me & out to envelop all I see how little different to be watching seeing street signs all opening into cul-de-sacs and open storefronts paraded in the endless traffic flow now bent slow over feeding my cat crab cakes that my mother made myow myow, he goes & I acknowledge myow myow, he goes & I answer what? what in god's name is the matter with you? myow myow his solemn reply licking @ a piece of exposed claw meat nestled among old bits of dry brown kibble how about this soul? how about this life? this sickness? how about this always seeking I? how about he music of my mind in untraceable car rides alone? wherefore to I wander ceaselessly in search of what wonders where I might be born on the road of least descent cat paws, grabs @ bottle caps on grained wood table my media fizzles & searchlights in my window there is something I'm not facing something inescapable, my love like you born of locusts in the dust, my love like you my weary dune-mother how solemn are the tunes that run thy face, o' mother and thy will how broken are the lines upon thine shining brow in bedroom windows open to the world like peace stolen in the sad glance I gaze @ everything stolen is the cup I fill @ leaking kitchen sink pipe strands of scent or bark of neighbor dogs amusing grass flow weather flowers under well I'm never knowing what--I never will no matter, all is well another's all is nothing now where knock goes streaming crashing loud like anvils in the rain it's only me how now, my dear contender? like a shadow fallen into sound how now the planets unwatered? how now the roots are killed? we all inhabit the same fears how rabbit hides his smear to give me a surprise for me, none so dear than the mystery & April dies today
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May 17, 2016
May 17, 2016 at 1:54 AM UTC
This Love
this love is now & new & once again stabbing @ me like durga-like diety with sweet golden daggers an essential togetherness teasing out of these odd surroundings I was listening to Jack Kerouac on the way home in his mad bop rhapsody apocalypse streaming out my speakers while familiar streets crawl past once again I'm thinking as the day old glum spread over me & out to envelop all I see how little different to be watching seeing street signs all opening into cul-de-sacs and open storefronts paraded in the endless traffic flow now bent slow over feeding my cat crab cakes that my mother made myow myow, he goes & I acknowledge myow myow, he goes & I answer what? what in god's name is the matter with you? myow myow his solemn reply licking @ a piece of exposed claw meat nestled among old bits of dry brown kibble how about this soul? how about this life? this sickness? how about this always seeking I? how about he music of my mind in untraceable car rides alone? wherefore to I wander ceaselessly in search of what wonders where I might be born on the road of least descent cat paws, grabs @ bottle caps on grained wood table my media fizzles & searchlights in my window there is something I'm not facing something inescapable, my love like you born of locusts in the dust, my love like you my weary dune-mother how solemn are the tunes that run thy face, o' mother and thy will how broken are the lines upon thine shining brow in bedroom windows open to the world like peace stolen in the sad glance I gaze @ everything stolen is the cup I fill @ leaking kitchen sink pipe strands of scent or bark of neighbor dogs amusing grass flow weather flowers under well I'm never knowing what--I never will no matter, all is well another's all is nothing now where knock goes streaming crashing loud like anvils in the rain it's only me how now, my dear contender? like a shadow fallen into sound how now the planets unwatered? how now the roots are killed? we all inhabit the same fears how rabbit hides his smear to give me a surprise for me, none so dear than the mystery & April dies today
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82
pieces of pain fly into the crescent moon we walk through the falling snow storm and broken road are we alive or just pretending? wisdom of the nirvana tell the mysterious diety yellow grass and smoked old man strong promises people made promise it won't be breaking seeking the shadow of your savior survive the long cold night with an eclipse torn fall between us pale lips with a cigarette living our future in a ***** promise lead me, surviver to the end of this tunnel standing in the rain to see the lights of the buildings galaxy and hidden planet walk to the flower shop rose or jasmine red with madness or white with sadness painting your soul with blood (a.l)
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Nov 23, 2013
Nov 23, 2013 at 1:33 PM UTC
L I V E
Where can start With an Apollo heart Where can I run When chased by the moon and sun An infinite race With an Adonis face A quick pace In the presence of grace Like Zeus I am powerful Like Hades so sorrowful With the temper of Aries And as quick a wit as Hermes I have an appetite so ravenous Like kronos And just as Dionysus My parties are rapturous So I find it difficult Despite my piety I believe I've failed In finding one single Equivalent diety
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Feb 5, 2014
Feb 5, 2014 at 3:19 PM UTC
An Equivalent Diety
i have some vague idea of any possible universe without any laws designed by an idiot designed by a diety thinking of something much more abstract
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Dec 12, 2011
Dec 12, 2011 at 9:57 AM UTC
on the universe
Let’s dally in pain coat ourselves in coal as we await the apocalypse when the diety will declare death to the society death to the communion death to the society Let’s the emotional turmoil become the boil that bursts all the unhappy drafted chants when the diety will declare death to the society death to the communion death to the society All the clouds will burst with chalks of clay those chunks that mend As we amend to a neutral at the leyline of a sublime gift where the interface of energy draws attention to the waning moon under the shear of unwanted hearsays as such a time is drawing nigh As their sacrifices drown the night At the crossroads where ...... two wrongs never make a right
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Sep 14, 2018
Sep 14, 2018 at 4:51 AM UTC
Death to the society
Chronology Dynamo(Cogwheel Goddess) Excogitation; twiddling my thumbs… My eyes are glued to the soil beneath me; I shall sink into the mud. The winds embrace my untimely surge of vain equations. My metacarpals have contorted; supplication exhausts my soul. “You my Goddess, who I look to for Time, yes Time and solace“. “Thou shall not reveal to me vicissitudes of vernal decay” “When shall the Great Harvest arrive?” “I ask myself this oh Mother of Divine Infinity; Scythe of Era in the hands of thou.” -When- -When shall my flowering forth arrive from aegis wings?- I sweat; I bleed; I murmur; I fade; I glow; “now what am I?” Translucent in skin; hollow to the core; dying to warp through dimensions; lithe like a sylph. Her diadem is one of metallic gears and bejeweled bolts; a Manufactured Diety of the Glorious Space and Time. Her blade of mascara beautifies those who gaze upon her luminous needle lashes; Her apparel that of disassembled clocks. The sand of the hourglass composes her tears and blood; she bleeds out every second of wasted chronology. Her corona is iridescent and she is one with The Universe. “Ye shall not waste Time, yes, Time, for it is the essence to all things that are and all things that are not!” She speaks to me as the nebulae around her glimmer, adorned with supernovae creating a phantasmagorical and celestial overload. My eyes are clocked with sensory overload; so many colors and luminous neon lights. “Before the collapse of Mother Earth; the Liminal Sphere, you must feed the Galaxies with the brilliance of your heart.” -When the rivers of time run dry- -Act- -Do Not Wait…-    By Sanders M. Foulke III
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Mar 30, 2012
Mar 30, 2012 at 3:50 AM UTC
Chronology Dynamo(Cogwheel Goddess)(Written March 20th, 2012)
Chronology Dynamo(Cogwheel Goddess) Excogitation; twiddling my thumbs… My eyes are glued to the soil beneath me; I shall sink into the mud. The winds embrace my untimely surge of vain equations. My metacarpals have contorted; supplication exhausts my soul. “You my Goddess, who I look to for Time, yes Time and solace“. “Thou shall not reveal to me vicissitudes of vernal decay” “When shall the Great Harvest arrive?” “I ask myself this oh Mother of Divine Infinity; Scythe of Era in the hands of thou.” -When- -When shall my flowering forth arrive from aegis wings?- I sweat; I bleed; I murmur; I fade; I glow; “now what am I?” Translucent in skin; hollow to the core; dying to warp through dimensions; lithe like a sylph. Her diadem is one of metallic gears and bejeweled bolts; a Manufactured Diety of the Glorious Space and Time. Her blade of mascara beautifies those who gaze upon her luminous needle lashes; Her apparel that of disassembled clocks. The sand of the hourglass composes her tears and blood; she bleeds out every second of wasted chronology. Her corona is iridescent and she is one with The Universe. “Ye shall not waste Time, yes, Time, for it is the essence to all things that are and all things that are not!” She speaks to me as the nebulae around her glimmer, adorned with supernovae creating a phantasmagorical and celestial overload. My eyes are clocked with sensory overload; so many colors and luminous neon lights. “Before the collapse of Mother Earth; the Liminal Sphere, you must feed the Galaxies with the brilliance of your heart.” -When the rivers of time run dry- -Act- -Do Not Wait…-    By Sanders M. Foulke III
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26
and tonight it is the elder, mother god of which i speak.... she  snores and snuffles in the lazyboy chair slumped awkward and sombulant, akin to a ragdoll, carelessly, tossed aside, after a day's hard play. and it is in the cracks and crinkles, both large and minute that craze and track accross her well worn, well loved face that i see, the god-dust... lingering. and as i gently, place a woolen wrap over her tired old body. i take a moment... to give thanks and worship, her hard earned diety. and the mothergod... slumbers, snoringly on.
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Aug 5, 2014
Aug 5, 2014 at 5:59 AM UTC
the elder, mothergod
I want you to take this match keep it close and when the time comes burn down everything in your path it's all wicker to your flame and if you leave them a single memory they will never remember your name carve yourself a giant from the remnants a diety to end all assure no descendants ascend from the ashes as cobblestone falls as steel and bones clash when all hope is gone it's you and that match.
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Feb 13, 2011
Feb 13, 2011 at 8:43 PM UTC
Sulphur
At first glimpse, I shudder, there is something in your face, I almost recognize, It's different now, More articulate, your eyes have become hollow and vacant, Without spirit, Haunting and hopeless, no longer being seen as bestowed by a diety, lifeless, No longer illuminating a disheartened world, Seeing too many unfavorable aspects of life, drawn, the light which once poured, nightfall surrounds, not of ignorance, but from experience, the secrecy of these shadows, the rendered soul, cause me to visit the unwelcomeness, that I have known, twilight touches my face, as I step away from the mirror, promising never to return.
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Oct 29, 2012
Oct 29, 2012 at 6:19 AM UTC
stepping away
The marching cries of dark armies, the lambs breath halted by plumes of smoke and walls of flame Ascend to the next plane, for this one has been scorched by hatred and malice, creatures of dread and pestilence rise from the ****** mud In the primordial ooze of the human birth, crescendo’s of bashing hymns ring out in the echoes of gunshot blazes Fires arise like an ignored diety, seeking its revenge
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May 2, 2015
May 2, 2015 at 8:29 PM UTC
Swamp
My sister has curly hair From day one She has cut and burned it at every chance Her hair is dark and thick Like our fathers I wish I had his hair instead I wish the follicles on my head Wernt thin and brittle And quick to fall Would that make me a man? My sister has a flat chest, My ******* have been called the best My family and friends alike She calls her own chest, childlike If we traded, and my breath was unstressed If they fell from my body Would that make me a man? What an unjust God Who would give us bodies That did not fit our souls What cruel diety Would leave us feeling So cramped
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Jun 15, 2023
Jun 15, 2023 at 11:38 PM UTC
[Not] ppl
When I grow up I want the world to be happy Because as of now It is not For you see This world is shrouded in hatred And love can be bought All around conveyed love is being traded for physicality As the players get stronger And the girl She cried out to a diety She doesnt even believe in Because he left her Broken Bruised And Pregnant Leaving her for another girl One with a bigger rack And *** Even though she shook hers Every night on stage Baring her body for strangers Only so when she goes home He can unleash his rage So she gives him her money And he loosens his grip on her Freshly Dyed Hair Then he'll pretend to care As he invests her money in his new Jordans Instead of rehab for his Crack head lover. because he never loved her. If he did He wouldnt be saying "That baby isn't mine." So he can spend more time With the new girl by his side. A girl who's snorting coke And lets strangers hands Travel up her bruised thighs I Cant be happy seeing this world in this disgruntloed state Because A young boy hangs up A flowery dress in a closet full of dusty skirts and heels His moms attempt at making him "Normal" Because what you don't know is he was born a She But she wants to be a he And he doesnt know somewhere out there A he wants to be a she But they feel more alone As their parents threaten to send them to camps In failed attemps to make them "Okay" In the eyes of Their God So he lays in bed Blood pouring from his Self inflicted wounds One for every missed label As they call him a her Or he a she But they don't see it "It's just a pronoun right?" Maybe to you Because you haven't fought your whole life To be called something few are open eyed enough to see you as. But he can see it clearly as he pins back his hair and puts on his binder
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Aug 23, 2014
Aug 23, 2014 at 5:07 PM UTC
Struggles of the Average American.
When I grow up I want the world to be happy Because as of now It is not For you see This world is shrouded in hatred And love can be bought All around conveyed love is being traded for physicality As the players get stronger And the girl She cried out to a diety She doesnt even believe in Because he left her Broken Bruised And Pregnant Leaving her for another girl One with a bigger rack And *** Even though she shook hers Every night on stage Baring her body for strangers Only so when she goes home He can unleash his rage So she gives him her money And he loosens his grip on her Freshly Dyed Hair Then he'll pretend to care As he invests her money in his new Jordans Instead of rehab for his Crack head lover. because he never loved her. If he did He wouldnt be saying "That baby isn't mine." So he can spend more time With the new girl by his side. A girl who's snorting coke And lets strangers hands Travel up her bruised thighs I Cant be happy seeing this world in this disgruntloed state Because A young boy hangs up A flowery dress in a closet full of dusty skirts and heels His moms attempt at making him "Normal" Because what you don't know is he was born a She But she wants to be a he And he doesnt know somewhere out there A he wants to be a she But they feel more alone As their parents threaten to send them to camps In failed attemps to make them "Okay" In the eyes of Their God So he lays in bed Blood pouring from his Self inflicted wounds One for every missed label As they call him a her Or he a she But they don't see it "It's just a pronoun right?" Maybe to you Because you haven't fought your whole life To be called something few are open eyed enough to see you as. But he can see it clearly as he pins back his hair and puts on his binder
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73
Oh those eyes; innumerable amount of eyes. Just following me. Gazing at me. Staring at me. Glaring at me. As if I were deformed; a monster that doesn't meet the quota for aesthetically pleasing. As if I were a deviant; fearing that they may the next victim of whatever scheme I am concocting. As if I were a cow causing earthquakes with each step I take. As if I were a stick figure recoiling at the slightest touch for fear of the pain. As if I were a diety. Bold and beautiful flowing gracefully across their path. As if I were a genius. Just waiting in line to hear my views on the world. Or maybe they're not following me at all. Maybe they're looking right through me. Straight past me. They don't even notice me.
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Apr 17, 2012
Apr 17, 2012 at 8:03 PM UTC
Paranoia
As I review the periodic table of elements I have resorted to some thing so Idiotic That the scientist have adored the relevance of some infantile youthful designation. I wondered... if one hydrogen atom became two in what state, what would two hydrogens be in another state.   Shiftless bonds, or double 0 eight. Is H2o oxygen or is it O2 in rain drops. How exactly do I love your poetry. Do I breath as do tears fall from my eyes. Are we all spying in on the great love. Does a capitol L make us doves?   Ive never had such a crush, To turn down.  How much of a hug is a lie to another friend.  Ive had so many affairs. That the friar asked me to spell affiar again aware of a fraudien slip.   I listed turned and down again I went as I listened to my mother speaking to frenchmen. The diety, the diet, the destruction of language, I just stood there smiled and again I said... I wish you knew what you were saying in Latin as the holy spirit convenced him.  She said in uncertain latin, the angle (angel) condemed us to understanding demi gods and taro cards from matter to benevolence.
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May 15, 2014
May 15, 2014 at 5:52 PM UTC
One Plus One
the postmodern condition is attempting to escape the human condition as defined by the parameters of capitalism through alternate realities that trigger a sense of isolation from the societal concept of individualism while bearing the constant struggle of utter loneliness and depression. multitudinous humans undergo irrevocable mental conditions that originate from a lack of amazement even at a young age of a human being. we endlessly always try exploring the vast amounts of knowledge throughout this temporary universe that we seldom lack the instant epiphany to be grateful enough unto the infinite diety who created all of these realms that are defined in a circular universal matter called an earthbound planet known through the reputation from the appellation EARTH within seven days historically concerning the biblical creation reference. this poem will make you think more and talk less to know what goes on around your circumambience everyday!
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Feb 25, 2014
Feb 25, 2014 at 8:17 PM UTC
Human Decisions
as life got harder so did the drugs held high in reverence and we too hardened toughened skin callous indifference it's all so simple when disinterest res'mbles the thimble and through a canopy tenaciously thick no light shone on the life below although the sick and sad, they rejoiced for in dark they feel so at home so alone so alone feeling without the diety promised to heal the devout an eternal eclipse and we thirst for the light hunger to see the clouds in the bright or the stars in the night here to starve on this forest floor parasites and predators but never a friend no friendly face to recognize see only gleaming eyes repulsed by our own and it feels so alone how we tell negatives repel and there is no hope for the hungry soul out on its own no climb however far could make it to the top all who tried would drop or else decide to stop and would one break that canopy, tenacious, thick, and tough one finds the trick to all of it, the sun is but a bluff and would one break that canopy, tencious, thick, and tough one finds the trick to all of it, the sun is but a bluff
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Apr 12, 2010
Apr 12, 2010 at 5:20 AM UTC
Sin is Sism
Locked in lust with dreams of deception. Tricking my senses to believing she's right next to me. Waking up in the morning in search of her body, only to find a wet sheet and embarresment. She is to be desired, with curves in her skirt that leave a man lustfuly wired. She's got me wondering if she's better than desert? Cause my sweet tooth be aching everytime she's moving. Temptation is clearly in the picture, capturing her essence and describing it as an addiction. Obscene pictures being conjured by the mind, if storing was possible, they would be filed under 'heavenly delight'. An ****** diety in my temple, worshiping her body as the idol of perfection. Viewing and inspecting her in class, drooling over my notes when she drops a pencil and picks it up infront of my desk. Oh how i love to pass those tests, knowing she'll be watching when i'm applaud for being the best. Will i ever make it into her life? Maybe if i do her homework she might just give me a chance. Or better yet, even a smile.
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Feb 24, 2010
Feb 24, 2010 at 1:04 AM UTC
School boy crush