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"disarms" poems
You're a grim reaper Looking for a soul to devour A mind to hack and a body to axe Your empty eyes and that evil smile Can't hide the fact that you're dead inside You got the Jezebel vibes Sound like a saint and feels like the devil Forbidden is your tag Dead and gone, your heart's nowhere to be found Luring innocent souls into your empty shell Got that charm that disarms You're a grim reaper A grim reaper © Sonia Ettyang
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Sep 23, 2018
Sep 23, 2018 at 4:54 AM UTC
Grim Reaper
summer day breeze whispers ancient secrets of childhood upon your silky skin caresses your backless yellow dress with billowing life summer day sneeze spins you round in white sneakers wielding even whiter smile summer day licks so luscious and pink summer day thrills just for kicks bare feet, reckless running defy gravity like when we were kids and built that time-machine from cardboard boxes remember when we fed baby butterflies with our first adventurous kiss soul shattering tides my fortress of solitude can no longer resist it's still just made of tiny fluffy pillows but now they're all grown up i still remember when you said "i love you" but we were just kids back then and i didn't say it back so i became an underwater knight after your love faded and i wandered the deep dark sea all alone, could no longer breathe the air above water i stayed in darkness slayed all the monsters most of them my own but never really found me a home you sank earning your very own scars and every single one is a tale of fire and caution: "she's slippery when wet" but that's okay, my love i'm an underwater knight in search of Atlantis and the familiar in your smile disarms me like childish imagination breathes wonder and selfless love to life this time i say it back and we've both finally found our home.
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Apr 24, 2015
Apr 24, 2015 at 4:11 PM UTC
Underwater Knight
Child, the current of your breath is six days long. You lie, a small knuckle on my white bed; lie, ****** like a snail, so small and strong at my breast. Your lips are animals; you are fed with love. At first hunger is not wrong. The nurses nod their caps; you are shepherded down starch halls with the other unnested throng in wheeling baskets. You tip like a cup; your head moving to my touch. You sense the way we belong. But this is an institution bed. You will not know me very long. The doctors are enamel. They want to know the facts. They guess about the man who left me, some pendulum soul, going the way men go and leave you full of child. But our case history stays blank. All I did was let you grow. Now we are here for all the ward to see. They thought I was strange, although I never spoke a word. I burst empty of you, letting you see how the air is so. The doctors chart the riddle they ask of me and I turn my head away. I do not know. Yours is the only face I recognize. Bone at my bone, you drink my answers in. Six times a day I prize your need, the animals of your lips, your skin growing warm and plump. I see your eyes lifting their tents. They are blue stones, they begin to outgrow their moss. You blink in surprise and I wonder what you can see, my funny kin, as you trouble my silence. I am a shelter of lies. Should I learn to speak again, or hopeless in such sanity will I touch some face I recognize? Down the hall the baskets start back. My arms fit you like a sleeve, they hold catkins of your willows, the wild bee farms of your nerves, each muscle and fold of your first days. Your old man's face disarms the nurses. But the doctors return to scold me. I speak. It is you my silence harms. I should have known; I should have told them something to write down. My voice alarms my throat. "Name of father-none." I hold you and name you ******* in my arms. And now that's that. There is nothing more that I can say or lose. Others have traded life before and could not speak. I tighten to refuse your owling eyes, my fragile visitor. I touch your cheeks, like flowers. You bruise against me. We unlearn. I am a shore rocking off you. You break from me. I choose your only way, my small inheritor and hand you off, trembling the selves we lose. Go child, who is my sin and nothing more.
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Unknown Girl In A Maternity Ward
Child, the current of your breath is six days long. You lie, a small knuckle on my white bed; lie, ****** like a snail, so small and strong at my breast. Your lips are animals; you are fed with love. At first hunger is not wrong. The nurses nod their caps; you are shepherded down starch halls with the other unnested throng in wheeling baskets. You tip like a cup; your head moving to my touch. You sense the way we belong. But this is an institution bed. You will not know me very long. The doctors are enamel. They want to know the facts. They guess about the man who left me, some pendulum soul, going the way men go and leave you full of child. But our case history stays blank. All I did was let you grow. Now we are here for all the ward to see. They thought I was strange, although I never spoke a word. I burst empty of you, letting you see how the air is so. The doctors chart the riddle they ask of me and I turn my head away. I do not know. Yours is the only face I recognize. Bone at my bone, you drink my answers in. Six times a day I prize your need, the animals of your lips, your skin growing warm and plump. I see your eyes lifting their tents. They are blue stones, they begin to outgrow their moss. You blink in surprise and I wonder what you can see, my funny kin, as you trouble my silence. I am a shelter of lies. Should I learn to speak again, or hopeless in such sanity will I touch some face I recognize? Down the hall the baskets start back. My arms fit you like a sleeve, they hold catkins of your willows, the wild bee farms of your nerves, each muscle and fold of your first days. Your old man's face disarms the nurses. But the doctors return to scold me. I speak. It is you my silence harms. I should have known; I should have told them something to write down. My voice alarms my throat. "Name of father-none." I hold you and name you ******* in my arms. And now that's that. There is nothing more that I can say or lose. Others have traded life before and could not speak. I tighten to refuse your owling eyes, my fragile visitor. I touch your cheeks, like flowers. You bruise against me. We unlearn. I am a shore rocking off you. You break from me. I choose your only way, my small inheritor and hand you off, trembling the selves we lose. Go child, who is my sin and nothing more.
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Child, the current of your breath is six days long. You lie, a small knuckle on my white bed; lie, ****** like a snail, so small and strong at my breast. Your lips are animals; you are fed with love. At first hunger is not wrong. The nurses nod their caps; you are shepherded down starch halls with the other unnested throng in wheeling baskets. You tip like a cup; your head moving to my touch. You sense the way we belong. But this is an institution bed. You will not know me very long. The doctors are enamel. They want to know the facts. They guess about the man who left me, some pendulum soul, going the way men go and leave you full of child. But our case history stays blank. All I did was let you grow. Now we are here for all the ward to see. They thought I was strange, although I never spoke a word. I burst empty of you, letting you learn how the air is so. The doctors chart the riddle they ask of me and I turn my head away. I do not know. Yours is the only face I recognize. Bone at my bone, you drink my answers in. Six times a day I prize your need, the animals of your lips, your skin growing warm and plump. I see your eyes lifting their tents. They are blue stones, they begin to outgrow their moss. You blink in surprise and I wonder what you can see, my funny kin, as you trouble my silence. I am a shelter of lies. Should I learn to speak again, or hopeless in such sanity will I touch some face I recognize? Down the hall the baskets start back. My arms fit you like a sleeve, they hold catkins of your willows, the wild bee farms of your nerves, each muscle and fold of your first days. Your old man's face disarms the nurses. But the doctors return to scold me. I speak. It is you my silence harms. I should have known; I should have told them something to write down. My voice alarms my throat. "Name of father-none." I hold you and name you ******* in my arms. And now that's that. There is nothing more that I can say or lose. Others have traded life before and could not speak. I tighten to refuse your owling eyes, my fragile visitor. I touch your cheeks, like flowers. You bruise against me. We unlearn. I am a shore rocking you off. You break from me. I choose your only way, my small inheritor and hand you off, trembling the selves we lose. Go child, who is my sin and nothing more.
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Unknown Girl in the Maternity Ward
Child, the current of your breath is six days long. You lie, a small knuckle on my white bed; lie, ****** like a snail, so small and strong at my breast. Your lips are animals; you are fed with love. At first hunger is not wrong. The nurses nod their caps; you are shepherded down starch halls with the other unnested throng in wheeling baskets. You tip like a cup; your head moving to my touch. You sense the way we belong. But this is an institution bed. You will not know me very long. The doctors are enamel. They want to know the facts. They guess about the man who left me, some pendulum soul, going the way men go and leave you full of child. But our case history stays blank. All I did was let you grow. Now we are here for all the ward to see. They thought I was strange, although I never spoke a word. I burst empty of you, letting you learn how the air is so. The doctors chart the riddle they ask of me and I turn my head away. I do not know. Yours is the only face I recognize. Bone at my bone, you drink my answers in. Six times a day I prize your need, the animals of your lips, your skin growing warm and plump. I see your eyes lifting their tents. They are blue stones, they begin to outgrow their moss. You blink in surprise and I wonder what you can see, my funny kin, as you trouble my silence. I am a shelter of lies. Should I learn to speak again, or hopeless in such sanity will I touch some face I recognize? Down the hall the baskets start back. My arms fit you like a sleeve, they hold catkins of your willows, the wild bee farms of your nerves, each muscle and fold of your first days. Your old man's face disarms the nurses. But the doctors return to scold me. I speak. It is you my silence harms. I should have known; I should have told them something to write down. My voice alarms my throat. "Name of father-none." I hold you and name you ******* in my arms. And now that's that. There is nothing more that I can say or lose. Others have traded life before and could not speak. I tighten to refuse your owling eyes, my fragile visitor. I touch your cheeks, like flowers. You bruise against me. We unlearn. I am a shore rocking you off. You break from me. I choose your only way, my small inheritor and hand you off, trembling the selves we lose. Go child, who is my sin and nothing more.
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55
I. Adieu, New-England’s smiling meads, Adieu, the flow’ry plain: I leave thine op’ning charms, O spring, And tempt the roaring main. II. In vain for me the flow’rets rise, And boast their gaudy pride, While here beneath the northern skies I mourn for health deny’d. III. Celestial maid of rosy hue, O let me feel thy reign! I languish till thy face I view, Thy vanish’d joys regain. IV. Susanna mourns, nor can I bear To see the crystal show’r, Or mark the tender falling tear At sad departure’s hour; V. Not unregarding can I see Her soul with grief opprest: But let no sighs, no groans for me, Steal from her pensive breast. VI. In vain the feather’d warblers sing, In vain the garden blooms, And on the ***** of the spring Breathes out her sweet perfumes. VII. While for Britannia’s distant shore We sweep the liquid plain, And with astonish’d eyes explore The wide-extended main. VIII. Lo! Health appears! celestial dame! Complacent and serene, With Hebe’s mantle o’er her Frame, With soul-delighting mein. IX. To mark the vale where London lies With misty vapours crown’d, Which cloud Aurora’s thousand dyes, And veil her charms around. X. Why, Phoebus, moves thy car so slow? So slow thy rising ray? Give us the famous town to view, Thou glorious king of day! XI. For thee, Britannia, I resign New-England’s smiling fields; To view again her charms divine, What joy the prospect yields! XII. But thou! Temptation hence away, With all thy fatal train, Nor once ****** my soul away, By thine enchanting strain. XIII. Thrice happy they, whose heav’nly shield Secures their souls from harms, And fell Temptation on the field Of all its pow’r disarms!
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A Farewel To America
I. Adieu, New-England’s smiling meads, Adieu, the flow’ry plain: I leave thine op’ning charms, O spring, And tempt the roaring main. II. In vain for me the flow’rets rise, And boast their gaudy pride, While here beneath the northern skies I mourn for health deny’d. III. Celestial maid of rosy hue, O let me feel thy reign! I languish till thy face I view, Thy vanish’d joys regain. IV. Susanna mourns, nor can I bear To see the crystal show’r, Or mark the tender falling tear At sad departure’s hour; V. Not unregarding can I see Her soul with grief opprest: But let no sighs, no groans for me, Steal from her pensive breast. VI. In vain the feather’d warblers sing, In vain the garden blooms, And on the ***** of the spring Breathes out her sweet perfumes. VII. While for Britannia’s distant shore We sweep the liquid plain, And with astonish’d eyes explore The wide-extended main. VIII. Lo! Health appears! celestial dame! Complacent and serene, With Hebe’s mantle o’er her Frame, With soul-delighting mein. IX. To mark the vale where London lies With misty vapours crown’d, Which cloud Aurora’s thousand dyes, And veil her charms around. X. Why, Phoebus, moves thy car so slow? So slow thy rising ray? Give us the famous town to view, Thou glorious king of day! XI. For thee, Britannia, I resign New-England’s smiling fields; To view again her charms divine, What joy the prospect yields! XII. But thou! Temptation hence away, With all thy fatal train, Nor once ****** my soul away, By thine enchanting strain. XIII. Thrice happy they, whose heav’nly shield Secures their souls from harms, And fell Temptation on the field Of all its pow’r disarms!
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The silk, satin, that is, your skin If only it could be sewn, to my own, flesh to bone Sun-gold childlike eyes I’m, possesive over what’s mine Guard u with a stone fort, no force could ever distort If up to me, if president I’d pump taxes into a fence Tight security surveillance Monitors a lavish palace In which u’ll stay well protected I wear u on me like a locket If u are confused or ever despaired Feeling unloved, that life is unfair Never for once think I won’t be there Storm earthquake hurricane, I hear your prayer I love you more than a flame has heat More than powers of electricity I love you more than water’s needed by a tree As there’s always greed for money, will u always have me Spelled by, your charms Your fruit disarms Fragments of my thinking, farewell fuels a famine Your fingerprints are ageless, riddles of a ghost nameless Synthetic diamonds, seizing my organs,until swollen Till we inhale, the same smoke trail I’m a trampled leaf throbbing from nails Your silver haired mermaid derail With only arrows of poetry To proclaim without humility U’ll have the world when u have me If u are confused or ever despaired Feeling unloved that life is unfair Never for once think I won’t be there Storm earthquake hurricane, I hear your prayer I love you more than a flame has heat More than powers of electricity I love you more than water’s needed by a tree As there’s always greed for money, will u always have me
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Dec 6, 2012
Dec 6, 2012 at 11:31 AM UTC
[U Always Have Me]
It might be the passersby that amuse me: The brightly dressed young woman whose ease And deeply warm smile suggest convincingly She is a new bride, her heart dancing like the breeze; Or her companion, whose strength beams Through his eyes and brightens his gaze, His love, like the sun's light streams Over his young wife, whose laughter seems his praise; Or the gaggle of adolesents, From whose conversation I catch words Like “amped” and “dude,” most of which to me make no sense, Whose clothes seem much worn than what their parents can afford; Or it might be the happy child Giggling in her mother's arms, Whose fun consists of simply flailing all wild And watching the smiles of those the fun disarms. Or it might be that I am the youngest of them all, Cane on the bench beside me, Taking in the world, anew, fresh, though this be my 76th fall. If this park bench view means anything, very clearly: Life is a smiling thing.
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Aug 7, 2013
Aug 7, 2013 at 8:18 PM UTC
Park Bench View
It’s the season of sickness. The ruminant roars, disarms me with hunger, Feeds me poison, contagious violence; ****** of my Control, spiller of my Secret: ‘I am gross.’ Bathroom lights stare at me, Toilet flushes betray my ears. Only Courage, Hanging on the edge of a lash, leaking with every pause of breath, can save me.
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Oct 26, 2016
Oct 26, 2016 at 1:06 PM UTC
Emetophobia
The churning *** keeps my family one The fog of delight hides us from the sun A taste of complacence to keep me compliant Frames of despair keep the hallways’ alignment This battleship lands in Australia for now And burns its own flag along with sundown The captain is weak, the crewmen have perished The telescope frowns when it scans the cherished The cook yells, “My, with the onions, I cry!” The maid is convinced,by her use of lye, That this is a happy crew of the sea Where everyone’s something to puke except me I stayed on the bridge with a knife in my eye The pensive maiden disarms with a sigh Here lies the painting of a family brew The mirror, indifferent of me, is true Metal footsteps of a boy led blind The chef and the captain maintain their grind And thrive in contrivance of a world kept stable Where all the rules lie in the food of a table The boy has been strung across the bridge, politely And left to a tool of love, coded tightly There is nothing in the night’s facade of blue I’m a ***** to the smell of the ship-crew’s stew
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Oct 6, 2018
Oct 6, 2018 at 2:17 PM UTC
Constrain the Pacific
This faint resemblance of thy charms, (Though strong as mortal art could give,) My constant heart of fear disarms, Revives my hopes, and bids me live. Here, I can trace the locks of gold Which round thy snowy forehead wave; The cheeks which sprung from Beauty’s mould, The lips, which made me ‘Beauty’s’ slave. Here I can trace—ah, no! that eye, Whose azure floats in liquid fire, Must all the painter’s art defy, And bid him from the task retire. Here, I behold its beauteous hue; But where’s the beam so sweetly straying, Which gave a lustre to its blue, Like Luna o’er the ocean playing? Sweet copy! far more dear to me, Lifeless, unfeeling as thou art, Than all the living forms could be, Save her who plac’d thee next my heart. She plac’d it, sad, with needless fear, Lest time might shake my wavering soul, Unconscious that her image there Held every sense in fast controul. Thro’ hours, thro’ years, thro’ time,’twill cheer— My hope, in gloomy moments, raise; In life’s last conflict ’twill appear, And meet my fond, expiring gaze.
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To Mary, On Receiving Her Picture
How well she grows - the perfect rose A delicate bloom in pink Little by little, her petals unfold And blend in poetic ink. Tall and stately; she is a regal bloom She reigns and flaunts her style How she charms prying eyes And disarms with her scented smile Though time will turn the tide one day And she'll wilt, and cease to be But long will she be remembered And loved in poetry.
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Jun 22, 2017
Jun 22, 2017 at 11:37 AM UTC
The Perfect Rose
UNNOTICED The first time i saw you I couldn’t get my eyes off you You smiled at everyone in that room but me I guess your smile was what caught my eye Was it the way you walked Maybe it was the way you talked I remember you sounded like the whispers of angels   I was heading home that day smiling like riches kissed me Too shy to explain the reason why My friends see me as tough As the one who doesn’t fall in love But that is the biggest lie i live with You were strangely too beautiful to forget Your face as smooth as polished marbles So i painted imaginations of us I struggled to understand why i felt this way I reached back in time wishing i told you how i felt But i wasn’t so sure that you would feel the same way I came back every time i had a chance To behold your sun bright smile To see the soft freshness of your skin I wished your  gentle eyes would fall upon mine I stalked you without you knowing From a distance i loved you for you In my dreams i constantly see you In my own fantasies i took you on uncountable dates I pinned pictures of you in my bedroom I knew i loved you better than the one you love I made myself to believe that you are mine You are a human adorned in splendor The honey that sweetened my life without knowing Days turned into weeks and so it continued I was comfortable with loving you from a distance Why? because i was too scared! Too scared that you would say NO Too scared that i would mess things up and lose you forever I know you might call me a coward But would you blame me? Would you blame me for being scared to lose you? You were mine and i wasn’t yours Yea truly most times it makes me really sad                                                                                                                                                                                                              Without you knowing you melted a heart as cold as ice Without you knowing you made me fall in love Without you knowing you brought sunshine to my life Without you knowing your voice became what disarms my demons Without you knowing i smile in my loneliness Without you knowing you are the love of my life In your world i am but a foreigner In my world you are everything The stars that beautified my planet The sweet violin constantly repeating in my head You have become the commanding officer of my happiness Yet in your world i am still the UNNOTICED.
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Nov 1, 2017
Nov 1, 2017 at 10:34 PM UTC
UNNOTICED
UNNOTICED The first time i saw you I couldn’t get my eyes off you You smiled at everyone in that room but me I guess your smile was what caught my eye Was it the way you walked Maybe it was the way you talked I remember you sounded like the whispers of angels   I was heading home that day smiling like riches kissed me Too shy to explain the reason why My friends see me as tough As the one who doesn’t fall in love But that is the biggest lie i live with You were strangely too beautiful to forget Your face as smooth as polished marbles So i painted imaginations of us I struggled to understand why i felt this way I reached back in time wishing i told you how i felt But i wasn’t so sure that you would feel the same way I came back every time i had a chance To behold your sun bright smile To see the soft freshness of your skin I wished your  gentle eyes would fall upon mine I stalked you without you knowing From a distance i loved you for you In my dreams i constantly see you In my own fantasies i took you on uncountable dates I pinned pictures of you in my bedroom I knew i loved you better than the one you love I made myself to believe that you are mine You are a human adorned in splendor The honey that sweetened my life without knowing Days turned into weeks and so it continued I was comfortable with loving you from a distance Why? because i was too scared! Too scared that you would say NO Too scared that i would mess things up and lose you forever I know you might call me a coward But would you blame me? Would you blame me for being scared to lose you? You were mine and i wasn’t yours Yea truly most times it makes me really sad                                                                                                                                                                                                              Without you knowing you melted a heart as cold as ice Without you knowing you made me fall in love Without you knowing you brought sunshine to my life Without you knowing your voice became what disarms my demons Without you knowing i smile in my loneliness Without you knowing you are the love of my life In your world i am but a foreigner In my world you are everything The stars that beautified my planet The sweet violin constantly repeating in my head You have become the commanding officer of my happiness Yet in your world i am still the UNNOTICED.
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924 Love—is that later Thing than Death— More previous—than Life— Confirms it at its entrance—And Usurps it—of itself— Tastes Death—the first—to hand the sting The Second—to its friend— Disarms the little interval— Deposits Him with God— Then hovers—an inferior Guard— Lest this Beloved Charge Need—once in an Eternity— A smaller than the Large—
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946
Love—is that later Thing than Death
A cooling zephyr blew across Union Hill and twisted and turned Until it was caught in a dream, Tangled in ribbons of reflective light... Light that was amplified by her Grace and cerulean eyes, Like burning cobalt In an eventide sky. The profound depth of her mere Being was enough to hold me Down, something gravity Could ne'er do. As I looked behind her Bright stained glass windows, I witnessed every beautiful Objectification. Sometimes, I swear I could hear the Song of myself ringing in her tears, Dying in love in those cries With nothing more than a sweet embrace. I began to feel a foreboding Sense of impending happiness Dwelling among the empty chambers Of my restless mind as though it were... A ghost... Haunting my soul at its very apex, Flooding my arteries with Love's summer venom... Sweet like her sugarcane Kisses... Warm to the evanescent touch, Yet cold to the efflorescent taste. Oh, how light flowed Forth from her tender fingertips, The same fingertips that touched My face at midnight... That witching hour we spent together, Killing each other's Sullen loneliness until Time and white silence lulled us to sleep. By every passing moment in the Sensuous manifest we call Romance, the light cuts me Deeper with its rusty blade... And disarms my final breath... "No more, no more", And forevermore. I fall weary in my crimson tide As she draws me near and nigh With her soft spoken words And enamored sigh. I am drowning in her August Light but My Bleeding Heart bleeds for hers, every night.
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Jul 28, 2015
Jul 28, 2015 at 2:16 PM UTC
August Light and The Bleeding Heart
A cooling zephyr blew across Union Hill and twisted and turned Until it was caught in a dream, Tangled in ribbons of reflective light... Light that was amplified by her Grace and cerulean eyes, Like burning cobalt In an eventide sky. The profound depth of her mere Being was enough to hold me Down, something gravity Could ne'er do. As I looked behind her Bright stained glass windows, I witnessed every beautiful Objectification. Sometimes, I swear I could hear the Song of myself ringing in her tears, Dying in love in those cries With nothing more than a sweet embrace. I began to feel a foreboding Sense of impending happiness Dwelling among the empty chambers Of my restless mind as though it were... A ghost... Haunting my soul at its very apex, Flooding my arteries with Love's summer venom... Sweet like her sugarcane Kisses... Warm to the evanescent touch, Yet cold to the efflorescent taste. Oh, how light flowed Forth from her tender fingertips, The same fingertips that touched My face at midnight... That witching hour we spent together, Killing each other's Sullen loneliness until Time and white silence lulled us to sleep. By every passing moment in the Sensuous manifest we call Romance, the light cuts me Deeper with its rusty blade... And disarms my final breath... "No more, no more", And forevermore. I fall weary in my crimson tide As she draws me near and nigh With her soft spoken words And enamored sigh. I am drowning in her August Light but My Bleeding Heart bleeds for hers, every night.
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The Beloved enters like a mist When in stillness Lays a kiss Disarms my words eludes my eyes pages empty the ink run dry Hours gaze from a clock with no face free from the hands of time and space Pulsing chamber of light that of a lantern of a wayfaring messenger, she says “I am not writer, I am written”
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Oct 4, 2014
Oct 4, 2014 at 8:14 PM UTC
I am not writer
The Beloved enters like a mist When in stillness Softens a kiss Disarms my words eludes my eyes No empty pages the ink run dry Hours gaze from a clock with no face free from the hands of time and space Pulsing chamber of light that of a lantern of a wayfaring messenger She says "I am not writer, I am written"
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Sep 20, 2014
Sep 20, 2014 at 3:15 PM UTC
"I am not writer, I am written"
This is not a poem, it’s a loss of hope. Art only the escape from what was, what is and what will always be until all that’s left is what? I scatter my childhood, leave it among the plains, forget the trail of grazed knees, praying hands and broken hearts until all that’s left is what? I feel the teeth in my carcass; always ‘I’; never the pains of others, never the loss of tide, still I wonder why I don’t understand. This is not a poem, it’s a loss of answer. School only the escape from what is, what isn’t and what will never be until all that’s left is what? I listen to you, and it breaks my heart. It breaks my heart in places my words cannot scale. Just your heartbreak; over and over, rinse-and-repeat sorrow in my ears as I walk through my days. This is not a poem, it’s a loss of form. Temporary I know, but the world often disarms me, when I am in most need of my bow.
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Oct 27, 2013
Oct 27, 2013 at 7:50 PM UTC
Vulnerable
An innocent smile disarms the romantic heart, arouses those vile.
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Jan 19, 2019
Jan 19, 2019 at 12:42 AM UTC
Smile
Some have amazing qualities, inherent that they stand out a mile, so envy not for no matter how you try you can only look and wonder can you catch up with the rock of ages or have the wisdom of sages renowned know the patience of saints possess the courage of a lion or the bravery of the spartan do you have the gentility of a feather yet know the fierceness of a tornado do you have the softness of the dream lover or own the sacred sword of the Mighty Thor yet have hands that nourishes a baby tenderly or a smile that even disarms dogs. Can you catch up with the clouds do you have a voice that can sing with Celestial choir... Do you see why such as this makes the whole town sing
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May 19, 2019
May 19, 2019 at 12:17 PM UTC
No admiration required...
I’m on California 101 The highway Taking you away Are you lost ? We say 101 at most In the American West “One-o-one’’ One no one One, oh one I fire the only firearm That disarms you My denim by Levi’s 501 On California 101 Blue as the sky of my vice Hip-hugs my skin we drive The Pacific and its yellow lines unwind As slowly as the wind We drive 101’s log jam Listening to Pearl Jam I’m Bonnie, my guy’s Clyde And I gotta tell Elvis The weather here is a bliss Elvis, did you wear that hip-hugging Levi’s ? My road trip essential nice vice? We drive, high gear overdrive To San Diego’s beaches and lagoon To Los Angeles, you funny gowned goon To San Francisco, everything there is eclectic California, your State’s electricity is static “One-o-one’’ One no one One, oh one Road trippin’ with my denim by Levi’s 501 On California 101 Are you lost ? We say 101 at most In the American West We’re on Pacific Coast Highway we followed along the Coast To the Bay Bridge and the port Of San Francisco, maritime city An exceptional city that rules Exception to the rule We go country in the Bald Eagle’s county “One-o-one’’ One no one One, oh one Get your denim by Levi’s 501 On California 101 Are you lost ? We say 101 at most In the American West! May 1, 2015 University of California, Riverside.
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Nov 28, 2015
Nov 28, 2015 at 8:50 AM UTC
The American Dream or 101/501
Be merciful even as your Heavenly Father is merciful Thy kingdom come thy Will be done on Earth as it is in Heaven Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us. The Father who loves us died for us and paid the debt we could not pay. May we strive to be merciful, loving, forgiving for the small things. Let us be like Jesus to others. God is LOVE. The reason the world does not know God is because it does not know LOVE. And what is Love? Love is patient, love is kind, slow to anger, protects, trusts, hopes, believes, perseveres. Love never fails. Forgiveness is a great weapon. It disarms, diffuses, stuns, kills hate, squashes vengeance. It heals and sets free, but surprisingly it most often frees us. If someone can forgive you for something and move forward, never think for a second that God can’t forgive you and hasn’t already. God is so much better and so much more merciful and loving by far! The challenge is you need to learn to forgive yourself. God, help us to be merciful, forgiving, loving and kind to all, especially those who probably don’t deserve it. In these moments Lord, remind us gently that we didn’t deserve your mercy, forgiveness, love and kindness, but you gave it anyway and we aught to do likewise. Amen
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Feb 22, 2019
Feb 22, 2019 at 8:08 PM UTC
On Earth as it is in Heaven
She was darting through thoughts I dart through hers My brain tied in knots Kicking with spurs Her eyes darker than night A bottle in her hand Tearing down with words polite Meaning hidden I understand Pack of smokes in pocket A state of misery Launching like a rocket No reason I can see In foggy haze of confusion Rain quit falling down Bars closing in conclusion Remained dimly lit around Resting back against wall Bricks of the front of our wet home Could hear the substances call In back of her mind to roam Let in with welcome arms Turn off lights one by one It's about how want disarms Forfeit to them almost none In a day will return Finding you the same place Or someone better takes their turn Does not matter Just a different face She falls asleep eventually Giving her dreams attention Call names and she will be All things you mentioned
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Jan 8, 2024
Jan 8, 2024 at 2:21 AM UTC
All Things Mentioned
What was there in you that made me want you to stay? The way that I'm blue But you made it okay The way that you gaze The way I forget Youre invading my space But I don't really care What was there in you that made me need you to stay? Your laughter Your warmth Your smile that disarms The way youve turned My black and white world to something in technicolor Now I can feel so much more What was there in you that made me think you would stay? The way that you care The way that you don't The way I know everything about you And then nothing at all The way I'm surprised Like were meeting for the first time And when you take my hand I know I could fly The way that im losing My grip on reality Because you're the first I've have ever learned to love fully And all this thinking has led me this way What was there in me that made me think you would stay?
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Nov 23, 2014
Nov 23, 2014 at 9:38 AM UTC
wishful thinking