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"disarmed" poems
For years my heart was guarded, protected from the world. But somehow you have disarmed me, opened and unfurled. You’ve taken me, broken and damaged, mishandled and hurled . Yet you see me as delicate and dainty, so precious and pearled. Everything’s not perfect but it sure is beautiful here. Your smile so bright with a voice I just love to hear. Your touch, so gentle I just want to have you near. I love your energy and your presence, you make everyone else disappear. He has captured my trust and that’s something not easily given. He has made all my worries forgotten and all of my heartache is forgiven. His mission was to win my heart and made his goal clear, he was driven. After plenty of chances to earn my trust, I’d finally decided to give in. I feel so loved, so valued, so cared for so protected. He has won me over and I doubt I’ll ever regret it. To a man who truly cares for me and satisfies my every need. For you have saved me from my darkness, and my heart you have freed.
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Jul 11, 2021
Jul 11, 2021 at 6:27 PM UTC
Rescued
Consumer Of Existence Even if it’s all predestined It’s you who choose. So go, so do. It does what it does Despite your choices; So many factors out and in you. Even if it’s all predestined You don’t know a thing, So go, so do, And carry on as usual. You win, you lose, You pay your dues, Thinking that you have control Though you have none at all. A panorama of existence, You consumer and disarmed. They call it karma. Consumer Of Existence 12.14.2016 Circling Round Reality; Arlene Corwin
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Dec 14, 2016
Dec 14, 2016 at 5:57 AM UTC
Consumer Of Existence
you brought a light into my life, yet had the knife ready to take yours, many times i disarmed your thoughts away from self harm, you always did say i had a sorta charm, always there for you when i heard the alarm, but when mine went off you ran away into some one else's arms, told you from the start this ain't no one-way street, we each got our own heartbeat, so for this to be concrete you gotta be able to stand on your own two feet, yet when the other one falls, remember to help them back up, not just walk away like a thot, cause that ain't how a team works. © Try
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Dec 8, 2018
Dec 8, 2018 at 4:33 PM UTC
The Way It Went
Rub these eyes. What a misspent night. I cast one die, tumbled through to light                aimed away from                where I left you on a corner, towards a ******                ...You know... Hung my hat on these stupid hopes, tried to steer us two on an icy road.                Slid through stop signs,                you stopped speaking. Anyway, I'm flying out tomorrow. *Tired as Hell switch planes in Minneapolis On the way from Richmond to Montana This far North,      the snow is never far away.                Last one through                        the gate                and still sleeping.* Slug this Fall down in airport bars. A snowbound move, but I got disarmed.                so I aim to          where I came from Gift myself with what's familiar                ...You know... Out here there's not a lot of noise. A few pinned dots between the bullet points.                Here it gets cold,                just a few miles from the real Continental Divide. *Head dipped down, and shoulder leaned windward. Take two steps, try calling in the morning. This far North,      some flights can get grounded.                Not much                 between           here and Seattle.* *Heavy coats and fortified spirits keep us warm between our vacations. This far North      no Saints to preserve us.                Not much                 between           here and Seattle.*
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Dec 30, 2016
Dec 30, 2016 at 11:19 AM UTC
Red Eye
Rub these eyes. What a misspent night. I cast one die, tumbled through to light                aimed away from                where I left you on a corner, towards a ******                ...You know... Hung my hat on these stupid hopes, tried to steer us two on an icy road.                Slid through stop signs,                you stopped speaking. Anyway, I'm flying out tomorrow. *Tired as Hell switch planes in Minneapolis On the way from Richmond to Montana This far North,      the snow is never far away.                Last one through                        the gate                and still sleeping.* Slug this Fall down in airport bars. A snowbound move, but I got disarmed.                so I aim to          where I came from Gift myself with what's familiar                ...You know... Out here there's not a lot of noise. A few pinned dots between the bullet points.                Here it gets cold,                just a few miles from the real Continental Divide. *Head dipped down, and shoulder leaned windward. Take two steps, try calling in the morning. This far North,      some flights can get grounded.                Not much                 between           here and Seattle.* *Heavy coats and fortified spirits keep us warm between our vacations. This far North      no Saints to preserve us.                Not much                 between           here and Seattle.*
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50
*In memory of, and with respect to the victims of the 2011 terrorist acts in Norway. As the weather resembles, one remembers...* Perhaps if you went to my school, You'd have gotten beaten up for your egocentricity Long before it grew to such deranged preportions. As misplaced as the runes you carved into Glock and rifle; You'd have been not only estranged, but broken. Disarmed decades before detonation. Alas. A distorted berserker you ploughed through Establishments and hearts; an armed teenager fuelled on Video games, soft candy and steroids. Pity the nation that nurses such an unpoetic national enemy. We forgot your name and face, as you never knew ours. The symbol we chose was an ocean of roses, Like torches held to our love unharmed. Norwegian leap year two-thousand-eleven; Only twenty-two days in July.
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Apr 14, 2014
Apr 14, 2014 at 4:25 PM UTC
Norwegian Leap Year
You said the right things You flattered and charmed Convinced and promised Until I was disarmed Your words were golden They sparkled and shined They shined so brightly I must have gone blind I invested myself In the words you sold But all that glitters Is not gold I've always heard That talk is cheap Well my words are diamonds And yours are free You don't mean what you say You don't do what you mean Your words are free But they're costing me
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Jan 7, 2015
Jan 7, 2015 at 10:55 PM UTC
Talk is Cheap
I smuggle storm rifle and grief yet like a playful crow I shelter in the glow of your skin disarmed by your warmth I have laid down my weapons conquered the storm worded your sorrow and fled from the fragility of your brittle mind.
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Dec 30, 2012
Dec 30, 2012 at 9:11 AM UTC
Fragility
Red Poppies grow Upon lapels Telling of War's untold hell Of green hills Pristine and groomed Marching crosses On the tombs Marching crosses Star of David Where Stars and Stripes Fluttered and wav'ed Of buddies lost Buried in cairns Of brothers. Sisters. Thus disarmed. Of need for morphine To end the pain Of bandages To staunch red stains To honor souls Under white snow Upon lapels Red Poppies grow. SoulSurvivor (C) 5/29/2016
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May 28, 2016
May 28, 2016 at 8:23 PM UTC
Red Poppies
I have searched my whole life for someone like you Though I have lied and told others that, it's different I mean it with you I have ****** up every relationship I have ever been in... Fear has wrecked my love for anyone before you But with you I am not afraid... I am strong You are what I want... I will do whatever it takes to keep you You don't ask me to do anything... You never have You read my poems about other guys, pure fiction I thought you would leave then... That you wouldn't let me explain But you stopped and let me talk to you... let me explain How I cut up my memories and glue them together to make a poem It was simply astonishing how your anger faded, how you excepted my fiction You are the Sun to my Moon I reflect the love, the light I see in you Everything about you I simply adore, I wait all day until the night For that's when we can talk for hours on end You have no idea how cold I was before you... I hope you never learn all the things I've done I know you have an idea but you haven't heard it from my mouth How I sought to break guys hearts, how I'd lie to make them love me... All because people broke my heart... But then you tamed the beast inside You made her love you as much as I do, you disarmed my traps With your honesty you won my respect... I've never respected any of my lovers from the past If I could I'd tell you everything I've ever done... But I'd run out of words... I was a beast before you loved me that's about the simplest way to put it
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Apr 21, 2015
Apr 21, 2015 at 11:54 AM UTC
I Searched My Whole Life
I have searched my whole life for someone like you Though I have lied and told others that, it's different I mean it with you I have ****** up every relationship I have ever been in... Fear has wrecked my love for anyone before you But with you I am not afraid... I am strong You are what I want... I will do whatever it takes to keep you You don't ask me to do anything... You never have You read my poems about other guys, pure fiction I thought you would leave then... That you wouldn't let me explain But you stopped and let me talk to you... let me explain How I cut up my memories and glue them together to make a poem It was simply astonishing how your anger faded, how you excepted my fiction You are the Sun to my Moon I reflect the love, the light I see in you Everything about you I simply adore, I wait all day until the night For that's when we can talk for hours on end You have no idea how cold I was before you... I hope you never learn all the things I've done I know you have an idea but you haven't heard it from my mouth How I sought to break guys hearts, how I'd lie to make them love me... All because people broke my heart... But then you tamed the beast inside You made her love you as much as I do, you disarmed my traps With your honesty you won my respect... I've never respected any of my lovers from the past If I could I'd tell you everything I've ever done... But I'd run out of words... I was a beast before you loved me that's about the simplest way to put it
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24
They tell us, sir, that we are weak; unable to cope with so formidable an adversary. But when shall we be stronger? Will it be the next week, or the next year? Will it be when we are totally disarmed, and when a British guard shall be stationed in every house? Shall we gather strength by irresolution and inaction? Shall we acquire the means of effectual resistance by lying supinely on our backs and hugging the delusive phantom of hope, until our enemies shall have bound us hand and foot? Sir, we are not weak if we make a proper use of those means which the God of nature hath placed in our power. The millions of people, armed in the holy cause of liberty, and in such a country as that which we possess, are invincible by any force which our enemy can send against us. Besides, sir, we shall not fight our battles alone. There is a just God who presides over the destinies of nations, and who will raise up friends to fight our battles for us. The battle, sir, is not to the strong alone; it is to the vigilant, the active, the brave. Besides, sir, we have no election. If we were base enough to desire it, it is now too late to retire from the contest. There is no retreat but in submission and slavery! Our chains are forged! Their clanking may be heard on the plains of Boston! The war is inevitable--and let it come! I repeat it, sir, let it come. It is in vain, sir, to extenuate the matter. Gentlemen may cry, Peace, Peace-- but there is no peace. The war is actually begun! The next gale that sweeps from the north will bring to our ears the clash of resounding arms! Our brethren are already in the field! Why stand we here idle? What is it that gentlemen wish? What would they have? Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery? Forbid it, Almighty God! I know not what course others may take; but as for me, give me liberty or give me death!
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Mar 21, 2014
Mar 21, 2014 at 8:13 AM UTC
Patrick Henry: Liberty or death
They tell us, sir, that we are weak; unable to cope with so formidable an adversary. But when shall we be stronger? Will it be the next week, or the next year? Will it be when we are totally disarmed, and when a British guard shall be stationed in every house? Shall we gather strength by irresolution and inaction? Shall we acquire the means of effectual resistance by lying supinely on our backs and hugging the delusive phantom of hope, until our enemies shall have bound us hand and foot? Sir, we are not weak if we make a proper use of those means which the God of nature hath placed in our power. The millions of people, armed in the holy cause of liberty, and in such a country as that which we possess, are invincible by any force which our enemy can send against us. Besides, sir, we shall not fight our battles alone. There is a just God who presides over the destinies of nations, and who will raise up friends to fight our battles for us. The battle, sir, is not to the strong alone; it is to the vigilant, the active, the brave. Besides, sir, we have no election. If we were base enough to desire it, it is now too late to retire from the contest. There is no retreat but in submission and slavery! Our chains are forged! Their clanking may be heard on the plains of Boston! The war is inevitable--and let it come! I repeat it, sir, let it come. It is in vain, sir, to extenuate the matter. Gentlemen may cry, Peace, Peace-- but there is no peace. The war is actually begun! The next gale that sweeps from the north will bring to our ears the clash of resounding arms! Our brethren are already in the field! Why stand we here idle? What is it that gentlemen wish? What would they have? Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery? Forbid it, Almighty God! I know not what course others may take; but as for me, give me liberty or give me death!
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2
The Eclipse The eclipse dose not become endless night The reappearance of light is the same as the survival of soul The eclipse Such indeed a character of the historic hour through which the world was passing Objects close to the eye shut out much larger objects on the horizon A quiet  and unexpected  change, That looked  the desultory range Of happiness  and sprightly thought. Where'er was dipped the toiling oar, The direction of winds  danced round us as before, As lightly, though of altered hue; Mid recent coolness, such as falls At noon-tide from umbrageous walls That screen the morning dew. No vapour stretched its wings; no cloud Cast far or near a murky shroud; The sky an azure field displayed; 'There was light  sheathed and gently charmed, Of all its sparkling rays disarmed, And as in slumber laid:-- Or something night and day between, Like moon shine--but the hue was green; Still moon shine, without shadow, spread On jutting rock, and curved shore
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Mar 19, 2013
Mar 19, 2013 at 6:25 PM UTC
THE ECLIPSE
She feeds on Fear. Feeds on past insults and old rotten words. Feeds on what ifs? and “what can I get away with?” Oh, she’s a clever one. She can be a dragon and a terror, but more often than not, she’ll make herself real small, like a tiny kitten. Nibble away at all that is Good without me noticing. [Just call them love bites.] Meows: *“play with me, play with me, I need the attention and you aren’t doing anything Important right now If you love me, play with me. Make me purr. Sure I scratch but you don’t really want me to leave. Make me purr. Sure I scratch but no one will know the difference.”* Get her purring and I am no longer myself. She is satisfied, temporarily. [Always temporarily. She’s always hungry]. And me? Who knows what I am, when she’s in control, except convinced that I love poisoned claws digging into my soul. I’m used to her, I love her, I swear. [I’m used to her.] The thing about Monsters is that they can shape shift. This is no Disney movie, no horror story, no evil step-mother to contend with and vanquish. A simple battle between Good and Evil. Monsters are not black and white. It’s all a mess of colors, you see. - Maybe the monsters within are not even truly Bad. Only: *afraid, hurt, wounded abandoned.* Trauma’s last defense against all that accumulated Hurt. Maybe the monster within can be tamed disarmed, declawed. Turned back into a kitten again. Tough, playful, protective. But not Destructive. Not a Terror. Not Deadly. - Don’t say for sure that there are no monsters lurking within you. Mine are loud. Yours might just be dormant. - [Tell me about your monsters within.]
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Oct 29, 2014
Oct 29, 2014 at 6:12 PM UTC
The Monster Within
She feeds on Fear. Feeds on past insults and old rotten words. Feeds on what ifs? and “what can I get away with?” Oh, she’s a clever one. She can be a dragon and a terror, but more often than not, she’ll make herself real small, like a tiny kitten. Nibble away at all that is Good without me noticing. [Just call them love bites.] Meows: *“play with me, play with me, I need the attention and you aren’t doing anything Important right now If you love me, play with me. Make me purr. Sure I scratch but you don’t really want me to leave. Make me purr. Sure I scratch but no one will know the difference.”* Get her purring and I am no longer myself. She is satisfied, temporarily. [Always temporarily. She’s always hungry]. And me? Who knows what I am, when she’s in control, except convinced that I love poisoned claws digging into my soul. I’m used to her, I love her, I swear. [I’m used to her.] The thing about Monsters is that they can shape shift. This is no Disney movie, no horror story, no evil step-mother to contend with and vanquish. A simple battle between Good and Evil. Monsters are not black and white. It’s all a mess of colors, you see. - Maybe the monsters within are not even truly Bad. Only: *afraid, hurt, wounded abandoned.* Trauma’s last defense against all that accumulated Hurt. Maybe the monster within can be tamed disarmed, declawed. Turned back into a kitten again. Tough, playful, protective. But not Destructive. Not a Terror. Not Deadly. - Don’t say for sure that there are no monsters lurking within you. Mine are loud. Yours might just be dormant. - [Tell me about your monsters within.]
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97
I go unwilling and unarmed Recruited by age I lay me down The medals gleaming on my coat Mean nothing now, my vessel weak Hard for my ship to stay afloat The ocean once sparkling blue A dingy grey of lowering clouds Dark and foreboding as a storm I recall standing proudly on the prow My crew would not know me now There are things to accept, things to learn Time to know my place, take the stern My orders once barked in strident tone Now a whisper, not my own My ship becalmed, canons disarmed Her flag that once flew with pride Is still, no wind can stir her, colours bled I salute and a gust raises her high, A blood red pennant in a star filled sky I am not afraid to die
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Oct 5, 2021
Oct 5, 2021 at 8:15 AM UTC
The Last Voyage
You think you love them and so you give Body and spirit and this mystical soul You open your arms and your ***** and your Defenses are disarmed For this is living and this is life and this is transcendence You think I love this person and so you unshackle Unfettered you give and the spirit is lifted The drugs of *** and love and temporary commitment Mix in your arterial pathways changing you for the better? It is beyond anything else and is chased with much vigor What else is there you wonder? Chasing the high that makes you feel accepted and connected and finally alive. Sure it ends and the withdrawal is miserable But who cares when life is lived so vibrantly? Who says the price is not worth the pleasure?
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Apr 1, 2014
Apr 1, 2014 at 9:04 AM UTC
Achieving Vibrance
Draw upon the breath of stars, and scorch my heart with fiery scars Scars that linger from my past. A past that lies with lies and outcasts Tied to fears of fearing flaws...insecure…. like never before. Paradise, a sweet reprise to heartfelt sighs and moonlit nights Starlit sheets and reddened cheeks, eye to eye and tightened thighs. A face that takes my breath away. A heart to steal my soul today. A smile to stop the world from spinning A laugh to make my head start swimming. Disarmed, with you in my arms words lose all meaning. Eyes pierce mine and landmine my mind Lips seal mine and line my life with diamonds Priceless and unbreakable diamonds. A gemstone life. Emerald eyes. Pearl skin, Morganite lips and flawless fingertips Overdosed on what I want most, coming close to those and doting shows. It shows through rose tinted sight and might just last if lasting lasts at last. Dreamlike days and sleepless nights have shrouded my sight with blinding light My eyesight has been gored. Just one more day until my sight is restored. By she who has been long adored.
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Apr 28, 2015
Apr 28, 2015 at 6:17 PM UTC
A Gemstone Life
You and I are going to settle this score Now that you've abandoned your special snowflake campaign And overcome your Stockholm Syndrome A dynasty has been created The snowball's chance begins to take effect The short order cook has taken a tall order A citrus feast for a ship of marauders To prevent scurvy The maitre d' disarmed them at the door And allowed them to infiltrate the dining hall The captain sat and twiddled his thumbs while his crew cut loose The first mate drank fire water and shot it out of his nose The quarter master ordered some fiddlesticks served on door glass The boatswain ordered the insemination of a cow so he could eat the cow and all of its offspring It was his first day eating meat again He remembered his vegan salad days The carpenter and ****** constructed a shrine of after dinner mints And conducted a seance to talk to their old crew mate, Black eyed Ollie He squandered his life searching the sea for a doctor to restore his sight They planned to revive him and allow his spirit to possess one of them And sure enough Black eyed Ollie entered the seaman's body and they took turns controlling the fleshy vessel Black eyed Ollie got every day of the week that ended in "Y" and the seaman got the rest The filching crew of blighters finished their meal and went on their way They left quite a tip "Actions speak louder than words and money talks too Yet talk is cheap But time is money So every burning second counts Then let's freeze time Take action and buy all the talk at whole sale price And sell it at retail price" So pay up man, I told you working here would be interesting
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Jan 25, 2015
Jan 25, 2015 at 4:56 PM UTC
Eat At Joe's
You and I are going to settle this score Now that you've abandoned your special snowflake campaign And overcome your Stockholm Syndrome A dynasty has been created The snowball's chance begins to take effect The short order cook has taken a tall order A citrus feast for a ship of marauders To prevent scurvy The maitre d' disarmed them at the door And allowed them to infiltrate the dining hall The captain sat and twiddled his thumbs while his crew cut loose The first mate drank fire water and shot it out of his nose The quarter master ordered some fiddlesticks served on door glass The boatswain ordered the insemination of a cow so he could eat the cow and all of its offspring It was his first day eating meat again He remembered his vegan salad days The carpenter and ****** constructed a shrine of after dinner mints And conducted a seance to talk to their old crew mate, Black eyed Ollie He squandered his life searching the sea for a doctor to restore his sight They planned to revive him and allow his spirit to possess one of them And sure enough Black eyed Ollie entered the seaman's body and they took turns controlling the fleshy vessel Black eyed Ollie got every day of the week that ended in "Y" and the seaman got the rest The filching crew of blighters finished their meal and went on their way They left quite a tip "Actions speak louder than words and money talks too Yet talk is cheap But time is money So every burning second counts Then let's freeze time Take action and buy all the talk at whole sale price And sell it at retail price" So pay up man, I told you working here would be interesting
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32
there are lots of different ways to tell someone you love them.             (it’s a pain in the *** to burn music onto a blank CD and handwrite a track list) there are so many signs we miss as we are crudely blanketed and silenced by the alarm of being emotionally disarmed and unprepared for war.             (i can’t believe you still try to make me throw up my feelings and set them at your feet as a sacrifice) humanity’s horrific tendency to dismiss our most crucial feelings and toss them down the garbage disposal is, more often than not, a reflection of how we treat ourselves.             (i’m never gonna quit reminding you how pretty you are, so shut up and take the compliment) the basis of our existence resides solely on how we perceive ourselves, so why don’t we take a closer look?             (i will never understand why you can’t see how talented you are. you’re not that stupid) the precision in which all of our flaws and quirks fit together is the equation to which we are the answer. if you solve all of them simultaneously, then your world would end up containing a significantly deficient amount of peculiarity.             (dork)
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Jan 10, 2014
Jan 10, 2014 at 10:37 PM UTC
julia ervin is a dork
It should’ve been Bagan – she always loved Bagan, Myanmar. look, woman. I am a dog outside your home, overwrought and disarmed, hunting for bones. inverse moon over Pasig tonight and I am on my 4th bottle of beer already, barking without teeth. raged behind the typewriter with nothing but a visibly veiled waiting this stance so obscure, so absurd like the abrupt life of candle-flame. I was the lover and you cared for flame: now the fire is dead and there is nothing left for the sea to lambast, erased by the shores of feel. symphonies out on the streets like leprous children scrunched deep in the mire of the streets for alms. it is now my 5th bottle and I **** on the stone-gnome in my mother’s lawn and she will know of the reek of this pungent disbelief – scorn me for my heavy drinking but what is a man to do when he is as destroyed as the morning outside?
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Dec 18, 2015
Dec 18, 2015 at 7:10 AM UTC
Bagan
I forget worries and cares The unrest in the world I see When I look at fields and flowers When I behold a tree I forget what nags a day A sigh, a tear and cry When I see a galaxy of stars A golden moon in the sky I forget jarring cacophony The discord and the strain When I hear a stream gurgle And the patter of summer rain I forget what ails the heart With the breath of the breeze It soothes and calms the spirit It brings quiet and peace I forget worries and care When in Nature's company Disarmed by her gentle wonders Her beauty and her melody.
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Jan 17, 2017
Jan 17, 2017 at 9:14 AM UTC
Her beauty and melody
I climbed up the third nearest hill to watch the sun set, on the day that you said you love me.. Alone before sundown with time to spare. I hoped to catch it amber and full, on a hungry mid-cycle race all the way up there - where exactly, I did not seem to care. You disarmed me. And on trial I were. Alas my time wasn't worth it. The sun hid behind thick layers of cloud, the wind picked up and I could sense the rain coming. It kissed me. A bypassing train covered all other sound. And to think I quite longed to hear this, as if I didn't already know. The forces of nature felt like an omen. A warning, against a tempting last straw. Not sure how long I ended up sat there, but Venus rose up to wish me goodnight. If this is a test, I’m determined to pass it. An omen at half-light always means no.
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May 9, 2021
May 9, 2021 at 6:11 PM UTC
Omen
a stumble, a tongue slip, a body in bed facing away, an unintended provocation commences a collaboration just another unrequited disaster, marks me as a lowly private in the disarmed ranks of mutilated souls composing, while decomposing, sad love poems, as if the world needed another... a turn away needs a turn to, a cul-de-sac rejection needs a turnabout, a traffic circle pointless, with one exit only, road signed, "exit to a  collaboration of provocation" thanks and thanks a day together normative, now marked by a stinger singed in the early morn. a physical no thanks, her passing lane left turn signal engaged me too passing into this, a disgorged rejection that is to become this realized collaboration. *only I wrote it and you did not read it just provoked its creation, our sad collaboration*
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Feb 14, 2015
Feb 14, 2015 at 7:08 AM UTC
A Collaboration of Provocation (another sad love poem)
Here, the gods did not listen When you cried Here, disarmed Here, fallen Here, I laid you down With kisses soft Until you fell asleep forever Here, the gods did not listen When I cried But I made sure the earth remembered When you died Here, in the pool of ichor I planted my heart in disguise And blood-red windflowers grew Here, here and here – I have loved you
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May 20, 2015
May 20, 2015 at 10:42 PM UTC
Anemone
a solider and a sailor sing a lonesome song just for your entertainment but in it you are betrayed by visions of heaven shine with the late night ribald drinkers after all after a few bottles even mortality seems lively disjointedly you pick your way through all these salvation's never quite believing that you could exceed your worth and standing after all you can buy a new life for dirt cheap long as your willing to give up your lifestyle long as your willing to be disarmed of all those quick witted answers you think fit so well and give up all her peek-a-boo paradise's the solider and sailor buy a round and toasting the queen they bury the hatchet no expectations can lead you on to the brink of such strange bedfellows but you'll try you can only hope not to be a victim of such defeatism when all the ribald drinkers have left the saloon walking in the thin light of dawn you will remember all these beautiful things and dream better dreams build better sunrises from the gloom of days ending
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Apr 5, 2015
Apr 5, 2015 at 3:25 PM UTC
peek-a-boo
I love thy music, mellow bell, I love thine iron chime, To life or death, to heaven or hell, Which calls the sons of Time. Thy voice upon the deep The home-bound sea-boy hails, It charms his cares to sleep, It cheers him as he sails. To house of God and heavenly joys Thy summons called our sires, And good men thought thy sacred voice Disarmed the thunder's fires. And soon thy music, sad death-bell, Shall lift its notes once more, And mix my requiem with the wind That sweeps my native shore.
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1.7k
The Bell