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"dreariest" poems
He walks through the door, and my stomach knows it before my eyes. As though in a trance, the room blurs and buzzes around me. His gaze finds mine, and a rosy blush creeps up my cheeks. As he smiles at me, I feel a chill tickling its way down my spine. Goosebumps emerge across my arms, and not entirely because of the frigid air of this pale day. The butterflies are in a frenzy, twittering and fluttering around my mind, making my fingers tremble slightly. They excite my pulse, and my heart starts to race upon hearing those butterflies sing. When he laughs, I can't help but do the same, the things he says resonating in my head, keeping a shy smile on my face at even the dreariest times of day.
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Nov 4, 2013
Nov 4, 2013 at 12:26 PM UTC
Butterflies
Irony often oozes the blood stain That history will use to paint An honest portrait of erstwhile deeds Or to turn some altered soul to saint Few are those that exist within the mist Who loom larger than the shadow portrays And seldom does a shadow exist undiminished By the dreariest of all darkest days So when seeking blood in passionate resolve There comes a mordant aberration of unheralded stature Rising to fly above mortal attributes into unremitted immortality By assiduous conviction born of monstrous evil of unparalleled scale Born among the Carpathian mountains From the ancient and mysterious Transylvanian forests One who seeks blood for righteous alliterations Not for glory but for the saving grace A quest to alleviate all alien allagory   alligned along the meandering memories of non-mordant minded men No imagery conjured by Bram Stoker thru Van Helsing Encompasses the unmitigated reality seen The lifelong - still beating strong - near century long shadow of the denizen of our brightest outlook The creation of circumstance as much as man ( unkind ) made Maybe unheralded by too many For such a knave am I so sorely cursed now... With shame I ...who have always strived to drape myself in the raiment of the eternal optimist Now pay overdue homage to the true and absolute optimist      BEN FERENCZ.... Is his name Seek out his story now .. .while he still lives Reach back .. Into those dark, dreary days To share what history gives and you will see what he means     when he say's      " I'm Right. "      For I truly know that he is!          Keith w. Fletcher       Humbled by the humanity exhibited.
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Apr 12, 2018
Apr 12, 2018 at 8:26 AM UTC
Transylvanian Knight
Irony often oozes the blood stain That history will use to paint An honest portrait of erstwhile deeds Or to turn some altered soul to saint Few are those that exist within the mist Who loom larger than the shadow portrays And seldom does a shadow exist undiminished By the dreariest of all darkest days So when seeking blood in passionate resolve There comes a mordant aberration of unheralded stature Rising to fly above mortal attributes into unremitted immortality By assiduous conviction born of monstrous evil of unparalleled scale Born among the Carpathian mountains From the ancient and mysterious Transylvanian forests One who seeks blood for righteous alliterations Not for glory but for the saving grace A quest to alleviate all alien allagory   alligned along the meandering memories of non-mordant minded men No imagery conjured by Bram Stoker thru Van Helsing Encompasses the unmitigated reality seen The lifelong - still beating strong - near century long shadow of the denizen of our brightest outlook The creation of circumstance as much as man ( unkind ) made Maybe unheralded by too many For such a knave am I so sorely cursed now... With shame I ...who have always strived to drape myself in the raiment of the eternal optimist Now pay overdue homage to the true and absolute optimist      BEN FERENCZ.... Is his name Seek out his story now .. .while he still lives Reach back .. Into those dark, dreary days To share what history gives and you will see what he means     when he say's      " I'm Right. "      For I truly know that he is!          Keith w. Fletcher       Humbled by the humanity exhibited.
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40
The beach boys make it feel all right, Ed Ruscha is tellin me to keep it light, Fleetwood Mac playin The doors on those old blue records when my mind feels like the dreariest night The ocean gets me high, The californian sun makes it all right the stars sparkle so bright As of lately, I've been California day dreaming all night
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Nov 13, 2019
Nov 13, 2019 at 1:30 PM UTC
california dreamin in winter
In the temple of the mind— flash, Mortal pegs are but fingers shape, The light of dreariest day, told lash, All for the rush, conspiring too late.
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Feb 5, 2014
Feb 5, 2014 at 12:09 PM UTC
Dusty Dreams
In the temple of the mind— flash, Mortal pegs are but fingers shape, The light of dreariest day, told lash, All for the rush, conspiring too late.
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Mar 30, 2013
Mar 30, 2013 at 4:17 AM UTC
Dusty Dreams
. In the temple of the mind— flash, Mortal pegs are but fingers shape, The light of dreariest day, told lash, All for the rush, conspiring too late.
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Sep 18, 2014
Sep 18, 2014 at 1:24 PM UTC
Dusty Dreams
In the temple of the mind— flash, Mortal pegs are but fingers shape, The light of dreariest day, told lash, All for the rush, conspiring too late.
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Nov 27, 2013
Nov 27, 2013 at 2:37 PM UTC
Dusty Dreams
When you see there's nothing left May you still do what is right And not focus on yourself But on what others might May pure be your du jour In all you hope to find And love the only cure On which you spend your time May your cup always be full As you're sipping from your dreams And your highs never run low In the promises life keeps May the sun come out and shine On your dreariest of days And blessings always find The place your head is laid I pray you always feel at home Wherever you may go And all the joy you find Never leaves you alone May you always have a smile One that really counts Showing off your beauty From the inside out May this all apply to you Be it old or be it new And may these blessings always hold you tight In what ever you go through
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Nov 19, 2017
Nov 19, 2017 at 7:47 AM UTC
~Blessings~
I've always found it odd, that I could feel such a sensation, For each night that a dream decides to slip into my room, Whether it be a glorious dream of happy memories and moments to be, or A dreadful fragment of the most darkest and dreariest times that allure tears and fright into such an unknown and unconscious time, Even though the realization comes only after the dream, Each one has a meaning, almost never were they because of thoughts that crept in before I drift into the night, but of times to come, a warning or gentle tug at what will be, My dreams tell me of unseen times that I shall either meet with a smile, tears, or shock. They foretell the future, yet I never see them coming until the time has passed. such a mysterious world of wonders I enter as I  float into my wildest dreams.
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Jun 24, 2014
Jun 24, 2014 at 5:34 PM UTC
Dreamer of Futures Unseen