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"duelling" poems
. •my arms point to the sky• a gesture                            frozen in                 eter-                                  nity•un-                fazed as                                    the clouds                whisper a     lie•                 rumours of              rain that never               came quickly•           prickles protrude             menacingly            •threaten- ing all who          would stray         too close•       baseless            gossip that   masquerade     as pleasant-   ry•to deviate me from       the path i chose•still i stand             here...duelling the sun           •in a land scorched             barren•search-   ing for hope when there's  really none• here i stand... lonely and drought stricken• •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• .
0
Nov 24, 2015
Nov 24, 2015 at 10:51 AM UTC
Drought Stricken
In Parsley, a Levantine munificence accreted together in Tabbouleh, herbage that covers fractured bedrock in a poultice of healing. Secreted within, lie igneous outpourings of bloodied tomatoes, those solid affections that had welled through an ocean floor as Neptune quelled Gaia's contractions, her waters seeking to burst beneath the wrinkled surface of a salty sea. She, an underbelly of sky, pregnant in the overwhelm of magma, sweating out her heart in fire, muted like a moon of Neptune, in his retrograde soliloquies, yet mirroring hers in icy resurfacings of skin. The God of the Sea, boils an amnion to hazy mists, how deep will his trident plunge to dislodge those Trojan ships of deceptions ? Yet, Triton blows a conch for Gaia, not for man's duelling and his warring tribes. He soothes her feverish gnashing of thighs labouring continents. Some fires burn in water, like desultory heartbeats moving the pace of rocks through the ocean floor, spiriting away to stranger places still, marking maps of memories in the beauty of a stillborn magma. The limestone they say is no blood relation to such alien fructification, those oceanic intruders, bleeding still, spilling secrets in reds and purples. The acid tears spilled in lemons merely neutralised in syllables, sedimented to a community of limestone, that possess no archaic remnants reminiscing through dead bones, an age of glory. Now beauty lies in herbage over once raucous magma and traces of a salty sea, freshness of life trailing her veins, in fragrance of Parsley
0
Jun 24, 2021
Jun 24, 2021 at 7:15 AM UTC
A levantine Myth
In Parsley, a Levantine munificence accreted together in Tabbouleh, herbage that covers fractured bedrock in a poultice of healing. Secreted within, lie igneous outpourings of bloodied tomatoes, those solid affections that had welled through an ocean floor as Neptune quelled Gaia's contractions, her waters seeking to burst beneath the wrinkled surface of a salty sea. She, an underbelly of sky, pregnant in the overwhelm of magma, sweating out her heart in fire, muted like a moon of Neptune, in his retrograde soliloquies, yet mirroring hers in icy resurfacings of skin. The God of the Sea, boils an amnion to hazy mists, how deep will his trident plunge to dislodge those Trojan ships of deceptions ? Yet, Triton blows a conch for Gaia, not for man's duelling and his warring tribes. He soothes her feverish gnashing of thighs labouring continents. Some fires burn in water, like desultory heartbeats moving the pace of rocks through the ocean floor, spiriting away to stranger places still, marking maps of memories in the beauty of a stillborn magma. The limestone they say is no blood relation to such alien fructification, those oceanic intruders, bleeding still, spilling secrets in reds and purples. The acid tears spilled in lemons merely neutralised in syllables, sedimented to a community of limestone, that possess no archaic remnants reminiscing through dead bones, an age of glory. Now beauty lies in herbage over once raucous magma and traces of a salty sea, freshness of life trailing her veins, in fragrance of Parsley
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23
Fighting death daily. My head is duelling with my pen. I'm not suicidal. But given the option. Of meds or pen. My pen will outright win. (C) LIVVI MMCV
0
May 19, 2015
May 19, 2015 at 10:58 AM UTC
REACTIVE DEPRESSION
desperate word duelling a fight without aggression desperation pervades antagonism delayed so beaten beaten down so beaten only frown ferocity tucked away yet the beastly come to play a beating reckoned the pain provisioned so beaten beaten down so beaten beaten beaten down
0
Nov 4, 2014
Nov 4, 2014 at 3:40 PM UTC
'so beaten'
O, feckless dart of immeasurable delight! Wouldst thou direct elsewhere your flight, And refute my rival’s gentleman claim, That he be immune to Cupid’s aim. His smug sobriety remains intact, His pages blithe and matter-of-fact, Where my poor pen is inked with woe, And ****** to hell by quiver and bow. O, mischievous boy do grant my request! Whether modest maid or comely ***** His downfall ensured by one bold kiss, Shoot low, shoot high, but do not miss.
0
Apr 6, 2019
Apr 6, 2019 at 7:40 PM UTC
Duelling Poets
The High Street at first was marked with Charity Shops forever in lieu came the Pound Shops. Old Brands stayed with us but in turn the internet compounded the decline perhaps cyber shopping is akin to playing pong, the familiars, like a fire-storm evaporated, music, bookshops, photography whose to know the next stage? but I bet the inner city will be hamlets of chiefdoms, Gertrude the concrete cow adorned with Golden paint and urban Cowboys duelling in Midnight Charades
0
Jan 15, 2013
Jan 15, 2013 at 6:32 PM UTC
The Emptying Streets
A  brisk  gale  wind      blows  thru  my clanking  gears- thunder  shears- and  my  riven  ears then  hear  nothing: but  thru  clairaudience I  will  ever  be  a master  of  everything that   ravishes  the world  beneath  your feet. The  pompous  skies drink  up  the  seas, to  drop  thus  upon my  eyes  in  beads; and  as  I  pen  my muse's  advice,  the ink  disappears  from the  sheets;  and  watcher dieties-in  the  third  choir of  the  celestial  hierarchy- now  have  useless  wings. Oh,  mold  my  vernal features  into  a  candle effigy— watch  them  gleam— then  grow  so  low  by  high degrees; and  the  wax  melting  by the  heat  of  flame  -to  once  again downturn  my  merry  cheeks.  So  if you  please,  masquerade  as  a  blessed princess  -before   I  am  consumed  completely- and  I  will  play  both  parts  of  the  duelling princes.  One  a  man, the other  a  machine. Go,  rendezvous  with  my doyenne madness! Indeed  the  tryst  could  cause  my  discarnate ghost  to  scarper.  I  will  wrap  a  cloak  around my Joy  and  Sadness    —pleased that I  might hide  my  spare  character; or  at  least  proclaim  thee dressed  a  bit  sharper.
0
Dec 30, 2014
Dec 30, 2014 at 7:57 AM UTC
Mimicry
with the stretch of his arms he created the world breathed life into it, a melody produced no songs existed before he walked, danced across the land and seas and caressed the skies they called him King and prayed to him through and through sorrow and joys, dreams and storms a lover lost, memories gained with the nod of his head he flew above them tore the skies apart, fingers pointed at the sun, daring, duelling smiting its rays of boastful light there can only be one sun, he said there can only be one him, he asserted there can only be One, he cried he fought like a champion, the winner who rises while falling with the raise of his fist he shouted a name no one knew whose it was, no one dared to seek the truth "King, oh King, we call thy name" "I am here, I call your name" there went the Light, a heat permeating, invading, but like a whisper cared and loved, silenced the troubles in their hearts a heart of gold he revealed his name a name so sweet a name so strong his name was Yuzuru
0
Mar 24, 2019
Mar 24, 2019 at 3:33 AM UTC
through you, everything
Unearthed, Broken hearts by the millions Unnerved, By the sounds of so many tears Understood, Everyone has felt this way Lost loves, Dying in our minds for millions of years *Earthed, Secrets within revelations. The numbers of stars, yet as Concealed as them all; how Something as bright as light can be Hidden behind the undarkness of Day. All human tears are not the results Of crying. All human tears are the same one. One Water. Life. Pain. Laughter. Pain. Life. Earth cares as little as soil.*   And yet the Earth is filled with laughter Tears Pain and life. It knowing not the difference is beyond the point Caring, That the light we can all bring To shine shadows upon this unforgiving ground Then the sound of the last tear drop Shall bring the endless cycle to a stop. *Spirals cycling endlessly In optionable directions. Dancing or Duelling. Loving or Lying. Living or dying Trying, crying. Waste not heart's blood on Grounds. All it takes is Enough breath to clear The skies. It's only life, mother. Weep not for my death; Laugh that I lived. A thousand hates, yet the One love I shall recall. I name no flying To fall. When I smile, my tears Quench my thirst. Endless cycle. We can all choose to Spiral Upwards.*
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Oct 18, 2014
Oct 18, 2014 at 12:31 PM UTC
To Shine Shadows Upon This Unforgiving Ground (Collaboration with The Girl Who Loved You)
lets build tree houses and blanket dens forts to be reckoned with no one will infiltrate our dreams beneath these woven armours dusk to dawn warriors duelling with the notion of infinity playful glances and everything i never said my body already knows way before my mind can read the cues to connect on a level such as this is rarer than july snow and surely just as beautiful he holds my face cradling softly to meet his gaze thumb and forefinger the lightest vice but i know these hands could never break me intimacy is not something to be explained so readily or easily it should be bittersweet raw honesty
0
May 15, 2016
May 15, 2016 at 2:14 PM UTC
you & i
lets build tree houses and blanket dens forts to be reckoned with no one will infiltrate our dreams beneath these woven armours dusk to dawn warriors duelling with the notion of infinity playful glances and everything i never said my body already knows way before my mind can read the cues to connect on a level such as this is rarer than July snow and surely just as beautiful he holds my face cradling softly to meet his gaze thumb and forefinger the lightest vice but i know these hands could never break me intimacy is not something to be explained so readily or easily it should be bittersweet raw honesty
0
Apr 11, 2016
Apr 11, 2016 at 4:46 PM UTC
hippy boy
Past week, on the night of Tiw an uneasy candle-flame wavered censored by hushed air kisses casting doubt upon an ode; scribing the blessed years of youth. This pine scented disturbance no doubt - an Autumnal message; that rear weathered doors failed in the tempered change curiously bidding, further venture. Patio' marbles were shrouded creeping with expired foliage leaves tainted old hickory near devoid of all famed ochre, merciless to breaths of the fall. That sombre mulched pattering was alike wistful wondering; of delicate and shadowy footfalls from condemned, exiled seraphs strung by moonlight rays. The flavescent master glistened, whilst duelling a clouded force; enclosing in vaporous march smearing pebble trailings, the skirmish roused nostalgia. For eerie quivers - of familiarity wrought from the despondency, as if epitaphed notions of old were recited by alto whistling, each note rekindling a memoriam. An exhale of soulful proportions sent adrift an essence; a smouldering encirclement of exhumed - solemnly recalls taken from seasonal chapters of yore. Those hearted ashes of distant times cavorted - as sterling embers with a phantasmic replica of an adoration long gone, duetting on pockets of melancholy. Then beauty settled into a sepulchre, caressed by grieving wreath petals saddened by silken veil, awaiting the fateful - dust and sand; the remnants of embodied divination. Revived dolor swelled from within tiding from old, emotive cicatrices buried deep and then deeper until from this panoramic taunt does this churned anguish vein. A corrosive, timely hiss from Carpo brushed the illusions past as once - to a maidens' mortality; a premature cremation of dreams lingering the bitterness of decay. As the pining sky orb retreated so too - this observer with mourn stuttering farewells to the nameless then returned to the forgiving study to immerse again - in better times.
0
Apr 10, 2018
Apr 10, 2018 at 3:26 PM UTC
Embers in the fall
Past week, on the night of Tiw an uneasy candle-flame wavered censored by hushed air kisses casting doubt upon an ode; scribing the blessed years of youth. This pine scented disturbance no doubt - an Autumnal message; that rear weathered doors failed in the tempered change curiously bidding, further venture. Patio' marbles were shrouded creeping with expired foliage leaves tainted old hickory near devoid of all famed ochre, merciless to breaths of the fall. That sombre mulched pattering was alike wistful wondering; of delicate and shadowy footfalls from condemned, exiled seraphs strung by moonlight rays. The flavescent master glistened, whilst duelling a clouded force; enclosing in vaporous march smearing pebble trailings, the skirmish roused nostalgia. For eerie quivers - of familiarity wrought from the despondency, as if epitaphed notions of old were recited by alto whistling, each note rekindling a memoriam. An exhale of soulful proportions sent adrift an essence; a smouldering encirclement of exhumed - solemnly recalls taken from seasonal chapters of yore. Those hearted ashes of distant times cavorted - as sterling embers with a phantasmic replica of an adoration long gone, duetting on pockets of melancholy. Then beauty settled into a sepulchre, caressed by grieving wreath petals saddened by silken veil, awaiting the fateful - dust and sand; the remnants of embodied divination. Revived dolor swelled from within tiding from old, emotive cicatrices buried deep and then deeper until from this panoramic taunt does this churned anguish vein. A corrosive, timely hiss from Carpo brushed the illusions past as once - to a maidens' mortality; a premature cremation of dreams lingering the bitterness of decay. As the pining sky orb retreated so too - this observer with mourn stuttering farewells to the nameless then returned to the forgiving study to immerse again - in better times.
Continue reading...
60
You were number five in forty-eight But surely you’re one in a million. Warmest eyes entice duelling incisors. Wow! Maybe it’s one in a billion. I should’ve been scared for my life that night, As Cerulean fractured Vermilion. But you were there with a hand I’d never held And Bravery that wouldn’t be felled. Revelling in a scent you’d never smelled; Incense for reverence outside The Pavilion. I’d do it all again, you know? Melt the Snow and steal the show, To be there with you, toe to toe, Beyond the darkest dance at the brightest cotillion.
0
May 27, 2021
May 27, 2021 at 11:12 AM UTC
Beyond The Darkest Dance
trot it all out     two tottering opposites                                             duelling sets   of things we ought think two angers   we must take like a ***** draught and we are distractible one feeding of fear   to link us all                              and we are made quite yielding                                          i feel willing now  to rush upon death   just to get the it over with and the dragons can take the hoard                                                    and disable its currency a real species stopper well done
0
Mar 27, 2025
Mar 27, 2025 at 10:28 AM UTC
s t o p p e r .
The hearth had yet to warm a toe, an hour before the paling The rain had gone now comes the cold profound, inactive ,cold Assumed a duelling clarion across the mustered aerials,, slung, humboldt in the jangled dark, inanimate
0
Jan 20, 2024
Jan 20, 2024 at 6:32 PM UTC
Hark
Chinese friezes seen metres high reaching as stairs toward clouds, ebony black, bamboo tints apply, conversation hums in the crowds. The distant clink of fine porcelain hurries by metal clatter of spoon, marble witness in pale grey stain as table cloths sweep over room. Central chandelier orchid below flowers hang heavy in pale lilac, conversations soft in space row, plants thick of shade right back. Large formal chairs around brim mobile phones, duelling in stress, half will exit to the pool to swim, others suits as go about business.
0
Jan 23, 2019
Jan 23, 2019 at 9:46 PM UTC
Gardens listen
Fell through the alligator’s snout Picked his teeth clean out Landed on a duelling banjo's tail Herein a Minneapolis trail Piously thumbed a black crested wave Buffeted by the pick up from the bridge Seized by turbulent string vibrations Singing to survive; drowning in awkward silence Cajoled and plucked on a tight-rope score Pounding pain within lifes neck Mics backfiring: boardwalkers selfless feedback Toe tapping, heel thumping discontent Fighting for humanity Evil running through crashing cymbals Miasmic lyrics pushing to survive Trade winds heading south Thrown ashore in the gutter Soaked from harmonica to soul A sliding quiver shackles societies skiffle Now climb your fretboard to heavenly freedom             Those who cannot breathe                    Legislate in due measures: equal rights and respect             Civilisations blues are out of tune Levitate the knee of wilful contempt
0
Dec 10, 2021
Dec 10, 2021 at 9:28 AM UTC
Deliverance: A blues story
When a duelling dual, duel, and Duello rules hold sway, should the dual of duellers duelling, wear doublets to duel that day? With Duello rules in place, when duelling triplets duel are they thought a terzetto trio, if they follow the Duello rule? When a quarrelling quartet duel, do quadrille rules hold sway? or should they duel as dual duals, with dual Duello rules in play? Duels are only for experts, there’s a talented skill required.. As only the winner survives, all losers are deemed expired! As duelling, passions run fiercely , and a duel oft ends in death, no matter that Duello rules apply, a loser always draws his last breath! Rhymer. March 1st, 2018. (On a roll! - Have fun!)
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Mar 1, 2018
Mar 1, 2018 at 7:55 AM UTC
A Duelling Dual.
The miniscule presence of a belated future. Delayed lust. internal loathing. Pairs fall into clutches of envy. Poisoned waters they drink in competition. An inexplicable bond through distrust and distaste. A warming in duelling hearts. A chilling within two halves. Duos raise their spears and bows in challenge. Fighting for dominance Elusively uniting souls And they spark a heavy fight. Neck and neck A hefty bite All without the price to pay. As they grovel at each others show Of deathly affection. Stealthily. Love punctures the wounded Binding like the wraps of bandages. Understated healing properties with a hint of fatal spice.
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Dec 27, 2018
Dec 27, 2018 at 12:03 AM UTC
Hatred Fuels Love