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"eclipsing" poems
He watched pleasure enter her eyes Sensations of pleasure leaving her mesmerized Sweet screams, wet dreams, message disguised Moans escape as bodies magnetized his hands glued to her thighs as she sighs Fingers soaked in wet; juicy juices drip tongue eclipsing glistening lip; slow licks Her body, his vessel; selfish Serving each other relentless Breathes escaping each other Tangled together, bodies ravished Every morsel of one another sandwiched Finger, Licking, Good. ~Delicious~
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Mar 5, 2018
Mar 5, 2018 at 6:17 PM UTC
~Delicious~
In her gauzy garments Above the bowing trees The moon has many lovers In the sighing breeze. They all take her dancing In exotic lands They give her sparkling diamonds They kiss her milk-white hands. She is round & fullsome Or slender as a waif When she is then waning Her flowers are kept safe. Silken skeins of darkness When she's waxing full Are parted by her brightness She is NEVER dull! Her beaux are all so courtly But she eschews them all Her only love can make her pale She burns at his call... She lets out her moonbeams Through her eyes they weep She loves the one eclipsing her They can NEVER meet! She, so strong within her court Will curtsey when he comes The moon has many lovers But she's taken by the SUN. Catherine Jarvis (C) 12/14/2019
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Dec 15, 2019
Dec 15, 2019 at 12:07 AM UTC
The Moon Has Many Lovers
. ***Ancient games tell tales of dust.  |||   A story drawn from the lips of two poets.*** ~~~~~ It's the wits that **** not Queens of ivory or ***ink. *** Charged with coal strokes, scraping up the lies. Pawns & Knights slip between the grasp of the sun, leaking into*   lion jaws of Leo. Shifting these granite plates, ignoring the Rooks common price of aslant. Here we have slain kin, crescent traitors that backstab the night and battlefield. Closed doors and trap floors, trade me a tie, swindling your tactic ruts. Reality never got the noose around our necks, check turned into manslaughter, and kingdoms ripped asunder by the roar of Jupiter Get up, get up, get away from these liars, they can't have your rank or your fire. Peak a notion, this match is spared by a luft. Toss away the pride buried 'neath your dusty skin, it don't matter no more if   death has you by the lips. Silence is a language too in our eyes of earth. Take my hand, knott your soul into this downfall, and brace yourself for the wreckage in our bones. The Sword of Sorrows will fall 'pon your shoulders, not to slay thee, but to dub thee a new day. The drums of war will knit the lyrics in the sky, singing: "The mighty sharpen their fangs, the weak sharpen their wisdom" ~~~~~ I'm tired of your wishbones, and golden scales, give me the hard-earned truth. Hot coals of honesty may you tread upon, shadow-bitten remorseful may you be, don't stray off the course of Ursa major. The North star isn't the one I follow It's the moon with all of it's phases, Eclipsing and crescent, tipping the sky with it's beauty. Now let this sink further than any soul has ever sunk, no man could ever *rule the moon. ~~~~~~ ***Shoot on command, C h           e c         k m a t       e*** ~~~~ You could drag me to hell and back and those words wouldn't mean anything. Let this downfall become a downfell, Because last I checked "Wolves worship the moon" and I have broke it's reflection in the water *Just by throwing s                     t           o          n                  e                               s                                        .* .
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Jun 17, 2015
Jun 17, 2015 at 3:19 PM UTC
Playing Chess with Dragons
. ***Ancient games tell tales of dust.  |||   A story drawn from the lips of two poets.*** ~~~~~ It's the wits that **** not Queens of ivory or ***ink. *** Charged with coal strokes, scraping up the lies. Pawns & Knights slip between the grasp of the sun, leaking into*   lion jaws of Leo. Shifting these granite plates, ignoring the Rooks common price of aslant. Here we have slain kin, crescent traitors that backstab the night and battlefield. Closed doors and trap floors, trade me a tie, swindling your tactic ruts. Reality never got the noose around our necks, check turned into manslaughter, and kingdoms ripped asunder by the roar of Jupiter Get up, get up, get away from these liars, they can't have your rank or your fire. Peak a notion, this match is spared by a luft. Toss away the pride buried 'neath your dusty skin, it don't matter no more if   death has you by the lips. Silence is a language too in our eyes of earth. Take my hand, knott your soul into this downfall, and brace yourself for the wreckage in our bones. The Sword of Sorrows will fall 'pon your shoulders, not to slay thee, but to dub thee a new day. The drums of war will knit the lyrics in the sky, singing: "The mighty sharpen their fangs, the weak sharpen their wisdom" ~~~~~ I'm tired of your wishbones, and golden scales, give me the hard-earned truth. Hot coals of honesty may you tread upon, shadow-bitten remorseful may you be, don't stray off the course of Ursa major. The North star isn't the one I follow It's the moon with all of it's phases, Eclipsing and crescent, tipping the sky with it's beauty. Now let this sink further than any soul has ever sunk, no man could ever *rule the moon. ~~~~~~ ***Shoot on command, C h           e c         k m a t       e*** ~~~~ You could drag me to hell and back and those words wouldn't mean anything. Let this downfall become a downfell, Because last I checked "Wolves worship the moon" and I have broke it's reflection in the water *Just by throwing s                     t           o          n                  e                               s                                        .* .
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58
How this **** fable instructs And mocks! Here's the parody of that moral mousetrap Set in the proverbs stitched on samplers Approving chased girls who get them to a tree And put on bark's nun-black Habit which deflects All amorous arrows. For to sheathe the ****** shape In a scabbard of wood baffles pursuers, Whether goat-thighed or god-haloed. Ever since that first Daphne Switched her incomparable back For a bay-tree hide, respect's Twined to her hard limbs like ivy: the puritan lip Cries: 'Celebrate Syrinx whose demurs Won her the frog-colored skin, pale pith and watery Bed of a reed. Look: Pine-needle armor protects Pitys from Pan's assault! And though age drop Their leafy crowns, their fame soars, Eclipsing Eva, Cleo and Helen of Troy: For which of those would speak For a fashion that constricts White bodies in a wooden girdle, root to top Unfaced, unformed, the nipple-flowers Shrouded to suckle darkness? Only they Who keep cool and holy make A sanctum to attract Green virgins, consecrating limb and lip To chastity's service: like prophets, like preachers, They descant on the serene and seraphic beauty Of virgins for virginity's sake.' Be certain some such pact's Been struck to keep all glory in the grip Of ugly spinsters and barren sirs As you etch on the inner window of your eye This ****** on her rack: She, ripe and unplucked, 's Lain splayed too long in the tortuous boughs: overripe Now, dour-faced, her fingers Stiff as twigs, her body woodenly Askew, she'll ache and wake Though doomsday bud. Neglect's Given her lips that lemon-tasting droop: Untongued, all beauty's bright juice sours. Tree-twist will ape this gross anatomy Till irony's bough break.
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8.6k
****** In A Tree
How this **** fable instructs And mocks! Here's the parody of that moral mousetrap Set in the proverbs stitched on samplers Approving chased girls who get them to a tree And put on bark's nun-black Habit which deflects All amorous arrows. For to sheathe the ****** shape In a scabbard of wood baffles pursuers, Whether goat-thighed or god-haloed. Ever since that first Daphne Switched her incomparable back For a bay-tree hide, respect's Twined to her hard limbs like ivy: the puritan lip Cries: 'Celebrate Syrinx whose demurs Won her the frog-colored skin, pale pith and watery Bed of a reed. Look: Pine-needle armor protects Pitys from Pan's assault! And though age drop Their leafy crowns, their fame soars, Eclipsing Eva, Cleo and Helen of Troy: For which of those would speak For a fashion that constricts White bodies in a wooden girdle, root to top Unfaced, unformed, the nipple-flowers Shrouded to suckle darkness? Only they Who keep cool and holy make A sanctum to attract Green virgins, consecrating limb and lip To chastity's service: like prophets, like preachers, They descant on the serene and seraphic beauty Of virgins for virginity's sake.' Be certain some such pact's Been struck to keep all glory in the grip Of ugly spinsters and barren sirs As you etch on the inner window of your eye This ****** on her rack: She, ripe and unplucked, 's Lain splayed too long in the tortuous boughs: overripe Now, dour-faced, her fingers Stiff as twigs, her body woodenly Askew, she'll ache and wake Though doomsday bud. Neglect's Given her lips that lemon-tasting droop: Untongued, all beauty's bright juice sours. Tree-twist will ape this gross anatomy Till irony's bough break.
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45
Late night. Footsteps. Crane necks and girders. Fog lifts. The wind cries. Steel bones in moonlight                         I'm out                       so late now and it's Sunday night and Summer's ending                          soon. I'm aging                                           with questions fermenting in my mouth ignored for years Fenced off. Unfinished project shelved and waiting                      for next Spring. Cool night eclipsing years spent indexing, answers mislaid and blueprints unrolling Components rusting, crane necks and girders. Steel bones in moonlight. Tight lipped and staring.                              Fall comes                              construction halts now and the walls stand half                             complete And outside                                      the chain link shrugging off the cold and still wondering when Step through unfinished building. Get home. Shelved                       until next Spring.
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Aug 31, 2014
Aug 31, 2014 at 11:19 PM UTC
Construction Site
* The fume A thick dark fumy cloud Dormant it lies, but often loud Precariously overhead, it flowed The sunshine of the life, it swallowed It rained, challenged by the mighty peak In the heart, It pained, to see it weak The cloud was small but heavy However dusty and floaty. The doom and gloom Embracing in its shadow In desert, plains and meadow Eclipsing the days, sunny bright Dreadful, with the darkening night With me, always  hanging around When noticed, nearby it's found Haunting me with a sadness Flaunting its darkness A lot in the cloud explored Then consciously, It was ignored But dancing at the back of the mind Past  hurts and  pains, it  put to rewind The boom and bloom And then, letting it flow across, I got immersed, In fine tiny droplets, the cloud dispersed, Now each droplet addressed separately Was dried in the shiny sun completely All of the cloud, dripped to evaporate Condensed eventually, as distillate My pains, by that elixir, cured, Alchemised me into 24 carat gold *
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Jul 19, 2017
Jul 19, 2017 at 9:24 PM UTC
The cloud alchemy...24 carat gold
Twins of opposites, cradled upon Darkness & Light, Each brought up in the beauty That beholds each, Darkness looked upon all of it Surrounded, it had beauties not Seen, elegance beheld The sky at night, the opposite twin Sparkled, Flickering, Glints, Gentle pin drops in the heavens, Bringing a mergence of both "A beauty to behold" Down to earth all sleep Embraced in the  silence Entwined in night, The gift given away from  light And so Illumination Radiant Light Did end the time of  darkness And so one twin left for the others Time so shine on and all was seen In all it glory, but even in light there is Darkness But not of the twin, but of mankind's heart It was a contrast of the twins, Shifting, Changing, Mixtures Of both at once, But light was good For beauty shined through, every inch It gave light, nurturing growth That all reached for above As if to touch the giver of life, Darkness could have fun with light Taking the sky up before the light Eclipsing Overshadow Shrouding Taking the limelight away from its twin, But the mixture of both, excites Those below, the spectacle of each If only for a short time in the skies above, So the twins are of Darkness and Light Play with each ones given talent, They were mischievous but each held Their own beauty and dangers, But they are twins of opposites, From the beginning till the end of time.
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Nov 1, 2014
Nov 1, 2014 at 12:08 PM UTC
Twins Of Opposites
The river forks at big stone eddy rending currents meandering course,   its silence speaks not with forked tongue as kismet's swirling eddies abide      as if time immemorial;      a river naturally cleaved in two separate distinct directions befallen destiny without a choice Spinning round and round in big stone eddy, time just drifting by in the throes of doubt — high water rising beyond the bounds of earth taking drowning souls up to the sky Choking on a mouthful of unanswered questions, suffocating on the parting words left unsaid; distilling life into poetry hew from being — trickling out like the spilled out sky — taken down to the empty riverbed leave lay' til it's all washed away, in the music of the pourin' down rain Freedom embodies metaphysical incarnations riding the prevailing currents it can't control Gravity-gathered  down to the shoreline, manifest reclamation after the deluge, from somewhere far above the high-water mark Swallowed by all the darkness woe betides, thinking you carry such a weight to hold... It seems all got a handful of sand to toss up into the wind to seed the clouds The totality of eclipsing silence grows that rent the stillness of a dream of peace on an eroding shoreline In an Eddy of Expectations & Disappointment dark waters will ebb and flow, imponderable as drowning hope, leaving it all out there to dry after the rain        believing in your heart —         the best is yet to come   Jesse Stillwater ... November 2018
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Nov 24, 2018
Nov 24, 2018 at 12:09 PM UTC
In an Eddy of Expectations & Disappointment
The river forks at big stone eddy rending currents meandering course,   its silence speaks not with forked tongue as kismet's swirling eddies abide      as if time immemorial;      a river naturally cleaved in two separate distinct directions befallen destiny without a choice Spinning round and round in big stone eddy, time just drifting by in the throes of doubt — high water rising beyond the bounds of earth taking drowning souls up to the sky Choking on a mouthful of unanswered questions, suffocating on the parting words left unsaid; distilling life into poetry hew from being — trickling out like the spilled out sky — taken down to the empty riverbed leave lay' til it's all washed away, in the music of the pourin' down rain Freedom embodies metaphysical incarnations riding the prevailing currents it can't control Gravity-gathered  down to the shoreline, manifest reclamation after the deluge, from somewhere far above the high-water mark Swallowed by all the darkness woe betides, thinking you carry such a weight to hold... It seems all got a handful of sand to toss up into the wind to seed the clouds The totality of eclipsing silence grows that rent the stillness of a dream of peace on an eroding shoreline In an Eddy of Expectations & Disappointment dark waters will ebb and flow, imponderable as drowning hope, leaving it all out there to dry after the rain        believing in your heart —         the best is yet to come   Jesse Stillwater ... November 2018
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39
Wolf Goddess A Book by Eclipsing Moon-blood red http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/lauryames/748418/ manuscript- this book and all subsequent chapters --copyright@2011--- by Laurance Dyson all rights reserved not to be used except in this environment without express permission from the writer. Warning This Book is rated Mature and may contain material unsuitable for readers under 18. Chapters •THE WOLF GODDESS-Chapt.1 •THE WOLF GODDESS- Chapt.2 •THE WOLF GODDESS CHAPT3 •THE WOLF GODDESS CHAPT.4 •THE WOLF GODDESS-Chapt.5
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Sep 15, 2011
Sep 15, 2011 at 4:06 PM UTC
Wolf Goddess
Prowling through the undergrowth In our barging juggernaut, Ploughing the rolling hills of water, Which crease as the narrowboat sluggishly gliding past, Brushes the bulrushes like a tiger in the reeds. For four intrepid days Our film and photographs are empty to show, No sign, only missed whispers, Of the hummingbird blue blur. A darting flash cresting the morning chill, Regal turquoise stealthily steals Our attention, our focus, and our tiller Noses toward the bank hugger. And we have him. Small amber-royal fisherman, Eclipsing his heron heralds And the swans silent vigil In majestic lapis lazuli. Swift and sure he graces the water, Fisher King, Which bends beneath his dive. Resurfacing, his golden breast Mottled with silver minnow. There recluse in his exclusive spot, Fish foundering still in the ****** The kingfisher's poise frames his catch Aperture, shutter, captured shot.
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Jul 30, 2016
Jul 30, 2016 at 1:26 AM UTC
Kingfisher
The literati are moaning about the crowning of a comical smiley-face with tears of joy springing from its eyes as Oxford Dictionaries 2015 "Word of the Year" it's historic indicative of a generation raised on media shorthand though some people think the distillation of thought to acronyms, symbols, emoji is a bad thing too but in these icons heavy black heart face throwing a kiss reversed hand with middle finger extended even the simple : ) I see emotion stripped bare the whole gorgeous heart-rending, horrible hateful range of it illustrating the dark and light of who we are as a human race So I say hail and welcome to the "tears of joy" emoji may his vivid counterpoint shine around the world eclipsing all the words we've learned this year for hate.
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Dec 29, 2015
Dec 29, 2015 at 11:29 AM UTC
Tears of Joy
Prescient, her essence Casts a demure persuasion,                 Endowed with verve and vision; Concept to consummation, The serenely possessed, Creator, originator, Allusion to the eternal azure, Logos of abstraction, Word and image collision. Tonal palette of faith infused reason Beauty and sublimity, Serve to season Verse, canvas and film, Mediating aesthetic, seminal senses blossom, Lyrical each permutation, Seeds of vibrant chroma diffusing the mystical. Visage and hair,  her figure haunted With perfection - a work of Art Nurtured and lived invocation, The canon of taste; Crystal for the ***** Devotional fragrance , Holistic ethos, melodic invention, Animated, pure - The embodiment of redemption. Transcending form, parenthetically   (Merely) the decorative,   Allure, artistry and symmetry Superlative complexity, Her erudition satiates, supplanting Winds of constructive banality. Purveyor of an uncommon savor, She collaborates in the peculiar Pursuit and reward, Encounter  with depth, explored, Human and divine, prosaic meets sublime Igniting within an Eros Passion for truth, being and Telos. Visionary of grace and peace Transforming our earthbound dissonance; Our caprice, Hope and abundance, the myth of scarcity, She narrates the Good. Pen, lens, color and stage Vulnerable, unrepressed, effusive Romantic articulation, The reservoir deep, Innately primed conduit of Love. Beyond plebeian, cosmetic, the trite Woman of substance, pulchritude And delight. Effervescent - her smile exquisite, Eclipsing suffering, Wordless expression, understood language. I am transported, my imagination replete, Sonya Rose - Art personified; unabridged, complete. ©2008 & 2013 W.S . Warner
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Mar 28, 2013
Mar 28, 2013 at 12:28 PM UTC
Sonya Rose
Prescient, her essence Casts a demure persuasion,                 Endowed with verve and vision; Concept to consummation, The serenely possessed, Creator, originator, Allusion to the eternal azure, Logos of abstraction, Word and image collision. Tonal palette of faith infused reason Beauty and sublimity, Serve to season Verse, canvas and film, Mediating aesthetic, seminal senses blossom, Lyrical each permutation, Seeds of vibrant chroma diffusing the mystical. Visage and hair,  her figure haunted With perfection - a work of Art Nurtured and lived invocation, The canon of taste; Crystal for the ***** Devotional fragrance , Holistic ethos, melodic invention, Animated, pure - The embodiment of redemption. Transcending form, parenthetically   (Merely) the decorative,   Allure, artistry and symmetry Superlative complexity, Her erudition satiates, supplanting Winds of constructive banality. Purveyor of an uncommon savor, She collaborates in the peculiar Pursuit and reward, Encounter  with depth, explored, Human and divine, prosaic meets sublime Igniting within an Eros Passion for truth, being and Telos. Visionary of grace and peace Transforming our earthbound dissonance; Our caprice, Hope and abundance, the myth of scarcity, She narrates the Good. Pen, lens, color and stage Vulnerable, unrepressed, effusive Romantic articulation, The reservoir deep, Innately primed conduit of Love. Beyond plebeian, cosmetic, the trite Woman of substance, pulchritude And delight. Effervescent - her smile exquisite, Eclipsing suffering, Wordless expression, understood language. I am transported, my imagination replete, Sonya Rose - Art personified; unabridged, complete. ©2008 & 2013 W.S . Warner
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58
Our trajectory was so like no other.   so linear within it's silhouette, gazing upon the others                                         gravity. We had a cycle of moments that were like                 s                     t                        a                            r                               s Weaving between our paths, serenading our motions entwined within the others graces. There was nothing between us but space, a gravity of affections. But some times a distance can expand                                                  in time, Even though we once eclipsing each other. Gazing at each other as our horizons descended you were the gravity of my yearning for so long. I could count the stars that shot upon our forms, still I feel the effects, but our stars descend less often. Maybe ours were answered previously but dreams                                                                  only come true once. You'll always be within my orbit, but never as close as what gravity lingered before. I see you, but we are just motions no longer adjacent in the stars of our hearts.
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Apr 19, 2017
Apr 19, 2017 at 11:41 AM UTC
Always Within My Gravity
Unapologetically Human I am **** on the mezzanine facing the darkened wet road illuminated with acrid yellow tube light better reds and blues surround towering palm trees wooden fingers of ancient giant hands buried below growing leafy green nails stretching skyward little things, orange ribbons, endless cricks and dollops bobbles and winches Spirits Play among the windmills climb to the top of trees and sing into the warm wind songs of *** and heartache as the universe ruffles along Dive head first into the opponents forehead grind the sand into his flesh with ram like resolve until the skin is red, determine to die This life is worth proving, the stars are worth gazing, and this body is worth bathing in the Maui air with naked delight The ocean calls to my heart water is a true lover whispering, kissing inescapably feminine I submerge my soul in joyful waves always the tides follow the moon like my silly heart, eclipsing both light both night both day simultaneously cycling fully the light shines and our eyes perceive shadow faces in the dark blanketed clouds the mountain gargoyles stand as titans, forgotten creatures shoulders and heads, waiting for the moon ball the ocean moon, tranquil bays the air is sweeter with you near, a distant thought cast about the horizon, the sun melting easy golden into my dreamy eye, bless my drunken lips dripping doltish songs into the friendly night Wrestling with bulls of men we kept our shirts on this time, yet blood was drawn in the sand we madly danced in the moonlight to clapping hands, kicking feet and knees the ceremonial struggle toasting the stars bottles were shared, some puffed on cigars Come surf with me in the morning or anytime the sun shines even under moonlight would I meet you and we could paddle come fill your heart with life and lust and romantic passions idyllic as freshly fallen snow undisturbed by worldly concerns be not abashed for this embrace is a natural wonder of the soul, join me, forget what words of yesterday the prophets of doom chant, we make our own tomorrow
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Jan 10, 2014
Jan 10, 2014 at 1:48 AM UTC
We Make Our Own
Unapologetically Human I am **** on the mezzanine facing the darkened wet road illuminated with acrid yellow tube light better reds and blues surround towering palm trees wooden fingers of ancient giant hands buried below growing leafy green nails stretching skyward little things, orange ribbons, endless cricks and dollops bobbles and winches Spirits Play among the windmills climb to the top of trees and sing into the warm wind songs of *** and heartache as the universe ruffles along Dive head first into the opponents forehead grind the sand into his flesh with ram like resolve until the skin is red, determine to die This life is worth proving, the stars are worth gazing, and this body is worth bathing in the Maui air with naked delight The ocean calls to my heart water is a true lover whispering, kissing inescapably feminine I submerge my soul in joyful waves always the tides follow the moon like my silly heart, eclipsing both light both night both day simultaneously cycling fully the light shines and our eyes perceive shadow faces in the dark blanketed clouds the mountain gargoyles stand as titans, forgotten creatures shoulders and heads, waiting for the moon ball the ocean moon, tranquil bays the air is sweeter with you near, a distant thought cast about the horizon, the sun melting easy golden into my dreamy eye, bless my drunken lips dripping doltish songs into the friendly night Wrestling with bulls of men we kept our shirts on this time, yet blood was drawn in the sand we madly danced in the moonlight to clapping hands, kicking feet and knees the ceremonial struggle toasting the stars bottles were shared, some puffed on cigars Come surf with me in the morning or anytime the sun shines even under moonlight would I meet you and we could paddle come fill your heart with life and lust and romantic passions idyllic as freshly fallen snow undisturbed by worldly concerns be not abashed for this embrace is a natural wonder of the soul, join me, forget what words of yesterday the prophets of doom chant, we make our own tomorrow
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49
If you give me long enough I could paint a vivid portrait of myself with every blemish and pore behind a brush, and hush the voices that would criticize unsubscribe and dance it up over in wonderland with the sycophants put on my bedazzled pants let the local singles know I'm a dancer just a beating heart away From being another square upon a lattice a writhing mass of hair gel and cologne working up the ladder to fuckboi status Imma walk the line between a marble arch eclipsing the sun over an angel statue kneeling in prayer and a black leather boot clad bad *** with bad habits but he's so cool he doesn't care Look at him go all on his own with only a thousand or so, little paintings   that are equally as photo shopped or filtered just floating around waiting to see the show and letting other people know they liked it or not What a spectacle destined to leave us senseless and restless what a test of the patience to be a slave to the masses to see my juxtaposition against the rest of the best of us and think "I should go with clever with glasses." What a brutal twist of civilized life to have an AI made for driving my car so I can shimmy down and sneak another **** pic THROUGH SPACE, to some guy who works at taco bell's wife Laura something or something I'm so social What a medium, Exchanging ideas, and hunting body heat from out of the ether, to have the pleasing distortion of the speakers drowning out all the wearisome noise of our contortions "You gotta learn to love yourself" She says, and posts another photo buried somewhere under 60 layers of dog noses and rainbows, and angel wings Oh **** this isn't boyfriend material let me change some things - You don't ever need to change girl, there ain't anything, in this world That I wouldn't do, to be with you. And the Brief exchanges we had, didn't reveal any red flags, that I am willing to skip on *** over. So somewhere down the line, when the filters start to fade, we'll just kick that can down the road, and neither of us will change. And the picture's that we painted of our Love will degrade.
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Nov 28, 2018
Nov 28, 2018 at 12:29 AM UTC
Social Romance
If you give me long enough I could paint a vivid portrait of myself with every blemish and pore behind a brush, and hush the voices that would criticize unsubscribe and dance it up over in wonderland with the sycophants put on my bedazzled pants let the local singles know I'm a dancer just a beating heart away From being another square upon a lattice a writhing mass of hair gel and cologne working up the ladder to fuckboi status Imma walk the line between a marble arch eclipsing the sun over an angel statue kneeling in prayer and a black leather boot clad bad *** with bad habits but he's so cool he doesn't care Look at him go all on his own with only a thousand or so, little paintings   that are equally as photo shopped or filtered just floating around waiting to see the show and letting other people know they liked it or not What a spectacle destined to leave us senseless and restless what a test of the patience to be a slave to the masses to see my juxtaposition against the rest of the best of us and think "I should go with clever with glasses." What a brutal twist of civilized life to have an AI made for driving my car so I can shimmy down and sneak another **** pic THROUGH SPACE, to some guy who works at taco bell's wife Laura something or something I'm so social What a medium, Exchanging ideas, and hunting body heat from out of the ether, to have the pleasing distortion of the speakers drowning out all the wearisome noise of our contortions "You gotta learn to love yourself" She says, and posts another photo buried somewhere under 60 layers of dog noses and rainbows, and angel wings Oh **** this isn't boyfriend material let me change some things - You don't ever need to change girl, there ain't anything, in this world That I wouldn't do, to be with you. And the Brief exchanges we had, didn't reveal any red flags, that I am willing to skip on *** over. So somewhere down the line, when the filters start to fade, we'll just kick that can down the road, and neither of us will change. And the picture's that we painted of our Love will degrade.
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60
I need to see the looming sky A wide, gasping chasm of color and power Cold and unfeeling Hot and passionate Black fading into red into blue I need to feel the burning air Arid and biting on my eyelids ******* the moisture from my skin And the toxins from my heart Engulfing me like the embrace of a captor I need to see the silhouette of mountains On the striking horizon, eclipsing the void To gasp in the thin and desperate air Cacti that claw at the dusty wind, and Beg for nothing in the kingdom of bones
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Dec 29, 2018
Dec 29, 2018 at 11:54 PM UTC
Desert Reminiscence
Finger soldered brilliant new gold band proudly circling nuptial sun orbiting eclipsing the clans completing a family connexion with others ovoid chipped but fondly funded wearing thin on hardened blue veined hands some waving some proclaiming all belonging.
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Oct 17, 2015
Oct 17, 2015 at 6:13 AM UTC
Wedding Rings
I love this I get to lay here In this smoky basement And be next to your body Incents burning in the darkness And the pull out bed is darned with Peacock blankets and worn green pillows And your ******* are perk in the light of a cigarette These rock walls and pillars aren't enough To trap the both of us Because within this room, we are invisible And around you I am invincible We stare through the black at each other Eyes in protest of the caliginous space around us And we see the warmth of acceptance in the air I can run these fingers along the smooth landscape of your skin And my tongue can skim slowly over you with a longing And my lips can caress yours with a delicious spark of heat Inciting the shudders throughout your body to take you These shadows around us can't understand Because in their two dimensional forms They will never caress your curves Or grasp the emotions needed to care about you So the darkness doesn't bother me I just need the quick paced breaths from you The fingers digging into my skin The lips and the tongues The dips and the rises And the realization that this is more Than *** at my house Pull your hair away from your eyes to look at me See the outline of my face The silhouette eclipsing the moon light from the window And the sweat on my brow Shining little droplets of "I want"
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Jul 29, 2014
Jul 29, 2014 at 8:57 PM UTC
*** in the Shadows
Calabash Squash A Poem by Eclipsing Moon-blood red entry for a contest...rhythm Hip- hop jury swapped Hippity- hoppity sequestered they stop Bibity- bobity alone on the cobblestone. falling in- falling over The balcone wailing, and buckets pailing, and hailing, and Scaling The walls and ramparts the cannons were whaling Moby dicking and schlicking the schlock of the clock… hickory dickery ..where is the Doc? Blind mice made the move..up one "grandfather  side. ... and Over the top . Now wasn’t that a quainty dish to set before the Queens … in drag © 2011 Eclipsing Moon-blood red
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Sep 15, 2011
Sep 15, 2011 at 4:04 PM UTC
cALABASH sQUASH
I. So far as our story approaches the end, Which do you pity the most of us three?— My friend, or the mistress of my friend With her wanton eyes, or me? II. My friend was already too good to lose, And seemed in the way of improvement yet, When she crossed his path with her hunting-noose And over him drew her net. III. When I saw him tangled in her toils, A shame, said I, if she adds just him To her nine-and-ninety other spoils, The hundredth for a whim! IV. And before my friend be wholly hers, How easy to prove to him, I said, An eagle’s the game her pride prefers, Though she snaps at a wren instead! V. So, I gave her eyes my own eyes to take, My hand sought hers as in earnest need, And round she turned for my noble sake, And gave me herself indeed. VI. The eagle am I, with my fame in the world, The wren is he, with his maiden face. —You look away and your lip is curled? Patience, a moment’s space! VII. For see, my friend goes shaling and white; He eyes me as the basilisk: I have turned, it appears, his day to night, Eclipsing his sun’s disk. VIII. And I did it, he thinks, as a very thief: “Though I love her—that, he comprehends— “One should master one’s passions, (love, in chief) “And be loyal to one’s friends!” IX. And she,—she lies in my hand as tame As a pear late basking over a wall; Just a touch to try and off it came; ’Tis mine,—can I let it fall? X. With no mind to eat it, that’s the worst! Were it thrown in the road, would the case assist? ’Twas quenching a dozen blue-flies’ thirst When I gave its stalk a twist. XI. And I,—what I seem to my friend, you see: What I soon shall seem to his love, you guess: What I seem to myself, do you ask of me? No hero, I confess. XII. ’Tis an awkward thing to play with souls, And matter enough to save one’s own: Yet think of my friend, and the burning coals He played with for bits of stone! XIII. One likes to show the truth for the truth; That the woman was light is very true: But suppose she says,—Never mind that youth! What wrong have I done to you? XIV. Well, any how, here the story stays, So far at least as I understand; And, Robert Browning, you writer of plays, Here’s a subject made to your hand!
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2.1k
A Light Woman
I. So far as our story approaches the end, Which do you pity the most of us three?— My friend, or the mistress of my friend With her wanton eyes, or me? II. My friend was already too good to lose, And seemed in the way of improvement yet, When she crossed his path with her hunting-noose And over him drew her net. III. When I saw him tangled in her toils, A shame, said I, if she adds just him To her nine-and-ninety other spoils, The hundredth for a whim! IV. And before my friend be wholly hers, How easy to prove to him, I said, An eagle’s the game her pride prefers, Though she snaps at a wren instead! V. So, I gave her eyes my own eyes to take, My hand sought hers as in earnest need, And round she turned for my noble sake, And gave me herself indeed. VI. The eagle am I, with my fame in the world, The wren is he, with his maiden face. —You look away and your lip is curled? Patience, a moment’s space! VII. For see, my friend goes shaling and white; He eyes me as the basilisk: I have turned, it appears, his day to night, Eclipsing his sun’s disk. VIII. And I did it, he thinks, as a very thief: “Though I love her—that, he comprehends— “One should master one’s passions, (love, in chief) “And be loyal to one’s friends!” IX. And she,—she lies in my hand as tame As a pear late basking over a wall; Just a touch to try and off it came; ’Tis mine,—can I let it fall? X. With no mind to eat it, that’s the worst! Were it thrown in the road, would the case assist? ’Twas quenching a dozen blue-flies’ thirst When I gave its stalk a twist. XI. And I,—what I seem to my friend, you see: What I soon shall seem to his love, you guess: What I seem to myself, do you ask of me? No hero, I confess. XII. ’Tis an awkward thing to play with souls, And matter enough to save one’s own: Yet think of my friend, and the burning coals He played with for bits of stone! XIII. One likes to show the truth for the truth; That the woman was light is very true: But suppose she says,—Never mind that youth! What wrong have I done to you? XIV. Well, any how, here the story stays, So far at least as I understand; And, Robert Browning, you writer of plays, Here’s a subject made to your hand!
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70
Pixelated bitmap e-mares Digitized be mementos cached Her 8 bit vocal vintage freeware Transfers recurrent electric draughts The bitrate of virtual seduction Intrusively hacks my bones Taste be my lips of data eruption Elicited from her tone Physique a stimulating software Upon my Ethernet she crafts sparks A gem society deemed quite rare Though she possessed a vibrant bark Her bandwith I yearned to fiddle 'Twas encrypted with die-hard lust She moans in esoteric riddles Keen I decode them whilst I ****** Pizazz eclipsing our veins A billion megabytes colliding Satiated we crash free of rein Unforeseen servers uniting © 2012 (All rights reserved) This poem is featured in the poetry collection “Technicolor” as written by Glenn McCrary The collection is currently available in paperback and hardcover editions for purchase on Lulu.com .
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Feb 25, 2012
Feb 25, 2012 at 4:09 PM UTC
Digital Cinderella
TO A GREEN THOUGHT IN A GREEN SHADE The rose appeared as if it had been created that very morning that very instant. It's newness almost shining. Grass seemed to have fallen out of a sky like little green rain piercing the earth blade after blade after blade delighting in its very greenness. Dandelions and daises dancing together sharing the same lane with the early worms. All meeting as equals. Not a Garden in Eden- but Guildford humble in its own creation. This moment plucked from many many moments as the one to be remembered. Time and Infinity getting it together eclipsing the fact that this is an ordinary 25th of whatever turning into a forever.
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Aug 22, 2018
Aug 22, 2018 at 4:29 PM UTC
TO A GREEN THOUGHT IN A GREEN SHADE
If only there were words            to the unspoken verses            when silence is the only sound            More than only            near paralyzing torn,            weary of searching endlessly            for what cannot be found            silence whispering poignantly            drowning out the midnight rain,                       There is no more sorrow            in search of the lost            unstrummed guitar chords            Unwritten psalms            forever left unsung;            without amity,            woe betides an unfinished,            abandoned heart's song            Only a heart lonely knows,            there is no absolving darkness            whispering of screaming silence            by night and by day:            "all things must steal away"              not to be thought of wanderings end            as a  velvety-crimson rosebud            shamelessly withers brown            Swirling eddies stir            a black swan of loneliness            swimming within the flood            of raven river waters'            silently eclipsing            its pitch black flow            Muted pleas silent as pity            blowin' in the fleeting windsong,            speaking in beckoning salutations            singing in sweetly beseeching tongues            Like the hush of a pensive soul,            once touched by another, moved            like a bedrock marrowed mountain            left stifled, stranded and wondering,            feeling an awkward silence            when the leaves come falling down            There are no misbegotten promises            cast lightly in the moonlight’s restless spell;            there is no solacing stillness when silence is the only sound...
0
Mar 11, 2017
Mar 11, 2017 at 8:46 PM UTC
When Silence is the Only Sound
If only there were words            to the unspoken verses            when silence is the only sound            More than only            near paralyzing torn,            weary of searching endlessly            for what cannot be found            silence whispering poignantly            drowning out the midnight rain,                       There is no more sorrow            in search of the lost            unstrummed guitar chords            Unwritten psalms            forever left unsung;            without amity,            woe betides an unfinished,            abandoned heart's song            Only a heart lonely knows,            there is no absolving darkness            whispering of screaming silence            by night and by day:            "all things must steal away"              not to be thought of wanderings end            as a  velvety-crimson rosebud            shamelessly withers brown            Swirling eddies stir            a black swan of loneliness            swimming within the flood            of raven river waters'            silently eclipsing            its pitch black flow            Muted pleas silent as pity            blowin' in the fleeting windsong,            speaking in beckoning salutations            singing in sweetly beseeching tongues            Like the hush of a pensive soul,            once touched by another, moved            like a bedrock marrowed mountain            left stifled, stranded and wondering,            feeling an awkward silence            when the leaves come falling down            There are no misbegotten promises            cast lightly in the moonlight’s restless spell;            there is no solacing stillness when silence is the only sound...
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45
Lost in a sea Of false realities, ****** fantasies and Tiresome formalities. Accustomed to the overture of Treachery writhing in mouths. Staggered by waves Eclipsing my Avenue to fulfillment
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Nov 20, 2013
Nov 20, 2013 at 2:15 AM UTC
Waves
Beauty in her possession; Is a power no mortal or god can wield, She demands obsession; From her stare no one can shield, As she takes and consumes man's soul; With a touch proves his demise, A whisper his death's toll; A stare eclipsing the sunrise, This power she bares to all; Unbeknownst to her and yet, From winter to fall; From the morning until sunset All those around her; prisoners become; Subdued by her charms, All are taken captive; spared are none, No warning; no alarms; This is her virtue, Spilt forth from her smile; And little is left to go through and sift, Of this carnage seen mile after mile; As she continues wielding her beauty, Hypnotic; entrancing; a call of duty... © okpoet
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Jan 11, 2013
Jan 11, 2013 at 3:29 AM UTC
A Call of Duty...