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"embolden" poems
You will know the house, Caught up in a spell of tales played out for a century or more Within earshot of whispering catacombs *** mortuis in lingua mortua’ You can’t miss it – Architecturally complex, ornate with ormolu, Elevated, enigmatic, a work of art. You’ll be enchanted But take heed, its façade will beguile you. There is no sweetness of honeysuckle, No singing of ascending larks to embolden the heart. The plot is strewn with hen-bane, stinging nettles, snakeroot. Generations tell of a skinny hag feeding on innocence, A path scattered with ashes of children Whisked away with a broom of silver. Don’t dare to stray beyond its palisade of porous bones. Don’t bide your time admiring its guilded thistle. Appreciate if you will, this well-crafted masterpiece from several angles, then make a hasty escape to Viktor’s Great Gate at the end of the walk. copyright © Caroline Grace 2011
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Jul 16, 2011
Jul 16, 2011 at 8:56 AM UTC
The House on Hens Feet
The fleeing clouds have cleansed the tawny earthen meadows Migrating sun doth steal away waning light of summer’s glee High atop fir boughs bow in wind whispered homage To the sapience the coloured leaves hath gleaned The sweet scent of auburn brindled pinecone clusters Ooze of  glistening pitchy resinous fruit Sticky figured squirrels chatter while they gather, Stashing a survival cache of acorns and spinner seeds, For another moment in sleepy winter tide dreams A swirling eddy of spiraling leaves whirl beneath the tall timber Fluttering gracefully with a gravity only falling leaves embolden Enchanting like the evanescent timbre poignant piano notes decay Writhing silent as summer Jasmine’s fragrant final bloom Dandelion wishes soaring higher to kiss the fleeting winged skies Lazily adrift up and over Cascade Mountain Crest Fuzzy treetop flyers ascending far beyond darting dragonflies below The sliver of golden harvest moon’s blossom aglow ,… While wishing upon a shooting star's paling gleams Serendipity sown about whimsically in the blustery wind For to sow the will of untamed heart’s desires                                     A festive troop of Chickadees clinging like tiny acrobats Foraging on ripened ginger hued fir-cone seeds Wings to the sky wave goodbye to the deciduous cadence Softly wafting with a pungent Lavender potion scented breeze There is a secret place where memories go to hide deeply alive Amongst the wild wood and impending leafless trees, The only place on earth I've ever understood a sense of belonging Where Autumn coloured leaves whisper in the gentle breeze ,…                   “I would do it all over again” Come September ,..when the leaves come falling down                       © ... September 15th, 2016
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Sep 28, 2017
Sep 28, 2017 at 10:47 AM UTC
Come September ,..when the leaves come falling down
The fleeing clouds have cleansed the tawny earthen meadows Migrating sun doth steal away waning light of summer’s glee High atop fir boughs bow in wind whispered homage To the sapience the coloured leaves hath gleaned The sweet scent of auburn brindled pinecone clusters Ooze of  glistening pitchy resinous fruit Sticky figured squirrels chatter while they gather, Stashing a survival cache of acorns and spinner seeds, For another moment in sleepy winter tide dreams A swirling eddy of spiraling leaves whirl beneath the tall timber Fluttering gracefully with a gravity only falling leaves embolden Enchanting like the evanescent timbre poignant piano notes decay Writhing silent as summer Jasmine’s fragrant final bloom Dandelion wishes soaring higher to kiss the fleeting winged skies Lazily adrift up and over Cascade Mountain Crest Fuzzy treetop flyers ascending far beyond darting dragonflies below The sliver of golden harvest moon’s blossom aglow ,… While wishing upon a shooting star's paling gleams Serendipity sown about whimsically in the blustery wind For to sow the will of untamed heart’s desires                                     A festive troop of Chickadees clinging like tiny acrobats Foraging on ripened ginger hued fir-cone seeds Wings to the sky wave goodbye to the deciduous cadence Softly wafting with a pungent Lavender potion scented breeze There is a secret place where memories go to hide deeply alive Amongst the wild wood and impending leafless trees, The only place on earth I've ever understood a sense of belonging Where Autumn coloured leaves whisper in the gentle breeze ,…                   “I would do it all over again” Come September ,..when the leaves come falling down                       © ... September 15th, 2016
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31
Love cautiously, the Oleander, from a distance, behold its blooms. For within its vibrant grandeur, death's brew does certainly loom. Profuse clusters of pink, red and white, are not for your table setting, Let them be a backdrop delight for desert landscape planting. Lush, evergreen, they grow year round, wild, tall, with abandon. Or prune them down, so they stay low, a hedge with blooms embolden. A poison beauty without compare, The Oleander draws attention. Thriving in the dry desert air, Touch? Remember warnings, here, I did mention.
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Jun 27, 2010
Jun 27, 2010 at 5:02 AM UTC
Oleander
It started with a hint upon the air, the telltale heaviness of anticipation. A few brave drops fall, testing their reception on this earth. Then the drops fall in earnest, surging down on she who is uncloaked, embracing the coolness on her skin, each drop a sweet lingering kiss. The thunder roars, both terrifying and exhilarating. The lighting flashes, the wind picks up, tangling her hair with earnest. Yet still she stands, embolden by the chaos, finding peace and comfort in it all. Your love is a summer storm, earth-shattering, deafening, irresistibly beautiful.
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Oct 8, 2017
Oct 8, 2017 at 1:11 PM UTC
storms and love aren't so different
Its annoyance Anointed In pessimistic clairvoyance Its the avoidance Of the simplistic And stoical Components Its motion Less Ness In oceans Of lip service Its ***** potions For the passionate Its fake **** And face lifts Its abortions In portions Of subordinates As gifts In gifs Of gorgeous Ordinance Distorted In tortured Tapping Of the dead Its all the fame In shoving The pain Of loving In the oven Of stubborn Mothers Blubbering Under the covers With other men Its the omens Of the oh mans In roman Misnomers Of fortunate Misfortunes Torn From time Its the mine mine mines Confined To their own kind Pre signed In old blood Its consignment killers Its the drugs Its timeless thrillers Its the shrugs Its the thunder Plundering Structures Rattling out From under the bed Its all the thoughts In our heads Blaring The booms Of the tamed Its the assumed The restrained Its this tomb Of shame In doing The same Old **** again And again Its been Better Then again I grin When Cold Its when i should fold That i embolden Its all the No's Its blankets nose Its the cut blow And lack of flow Its fists and elbows As opposed To safety locks Its ******* flu shots Its everything That ****** me off Its the the stupid robots And the silly riot cops Fencing in the famished flocks Its the ***** And the ***** In plastic boxes Giving rocks Off Without us Its the gold pots And stacked stocks Locked From us Its the Rocks Inside my socks As they knock The blocks Of billy bobs Bobbling On the dash Its the harsh And its the rash Its inside the last Bastion Of dummassez passing Through the Blast radius. Alas Its the mass graves And the paved pools Of anyone who knew Anyone who stood Its all us fools As cool kids Knowing No show biz In soul **** Its in knowing this And ******** And barking At the moon Soon To swoon None I am peaking soon In looming threat Of lost concepts Slipping away Under the sun Electing to quit While im ahead Way back when It was fun Way back when It mattered Its a gun Shooting blather Blathering As a bladder Would Misanthropic And misunderstood A changed topic Knock on wood Bye is good Goodbye Told you Its implied In rite So Good night Until next time
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Jan 28, 2013
Jan 28, 2013 at 2:59 AM UTC
Blather shoot
Its annoyance Anointed In pessimistic clairvoyance Its the avoidance Of the simplistic And stoical Components Its motion Less Ness In oceans Of lip service Its ***** potions For the passionate Its fake **** And face lifts Its abortions In portions Of subordinates As gifts In gifs Of gorgeous Ordinance Distorted In tortured Tapping Of the dead Its all the fame In shoving The pain Of loving In the oven Of stubborn Mothers Blubbering Under the covers With other men Its the omens Of the oh mans In roman Misnomers Of fortunate Misfortunes Torn From time Its the mine mine mines Confined To their own kind Pre signed In old blood Its consignment killers Its the drugs Its timeless thrillers Its the shrugs Its the thunder Plundering Structures Rattling out From under the bed Its all the thoughts In our heads Blaring The booms Of the tamed Its the assumed The restrained Its this tomb Of shame In doing The same Old **** again And again Its been Better Then again I grin When Cold Its when i should fold That i embolden Its all the No's Its blankets nose Its the cut blow And lack of flow Its fists and elbows As opposed To safety locks Its ******* flu shots Its everything That ****** me off Its the the stupid robots And the silly riot cops Fencing in the famished flocks Its the ***** And the ***** In plastic boxes Giving rocks Off Without us Its the gold pots And stacked stocks Locked From us Its the Rocks Inside my socks As they knock The blocks Of billy bobs Bobbling On the dash Its the harsh And its the rash Its inside the last Bastion Of dummassez passing Through the Blast radius. Alas Its the mass graves And the paved pools Of anyone who knew Anyone who stood Its all us fools As cool kids Knowing No show biz In soul **** Its in knowing this And ******** And barking At the moon Soon To swoon None I am peaking soon In looming threat Of lost concepts Slipping away Under the sun Electing to quit While im ahead Way back when It was fun Way back when It mattered Its a gun Shooting blather Blathering As a bladder Would Misanthropic And misunderstood A changed topic Knock on wood Bye is good Goodbye Told you Its implied In rite So Good night Until next time
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166
My beautiful walking Angel, please don't fly away. It was only you who could lift me, from the darkest night and days of life without her. My walking Angel. He talks as though he has one foot above, he walks this earth afloat already. Leaving me fitfully to wait, in my safely anchored boat. He's so sure of his inadequacy, yet I would gladly soak myself in fear, just so that I could have him near. Sweet glorious Angel. Clipped wings yet so ready to fly. If you were to die, then part of me would surely go too. I'm already bound to you. We both chose immediately to shield that which makes us, from others, yet to each other, we managed not to yield to the temptation of our defences. In spite of the offences of those who've gone past, leaving a lasting brand in our skin, of each terrible individual sin. Each scar wrought within. Innocent Angel. I am completely vulnerable to you. Usually so overly aware of danger, I have already, affectively, sworn my life to you. This next page is yours. Dangerous Angel. Whether you lift me up to fall, or pull me down to drown, I shall walk where you tread. A breadcrumb trail of tears in my wake, as I am shaken awake from your dream Your soul left to rest in the gleam of my eye. An unsnuffable candle to guide you back to me. Athiest Angel, I was asleep before you came and awoke me with your kiss, jerking my heart from it's Ivy covered cage, our instantaneous gauge of our compatibility creating a feasibility of merging. Gentle Angel. You took my beating soul and gouged it with a caress, spelt your name and my destruction, with your irresistible seduction of vulnerability, and tranquility of purity. My tender Angel. Your knifepoint was always fated for my ribs. Take me with you if you leave, allow me to anchor- no better- hold you, and embolden you to be whatever the **** you want to be. With your battered suitcase of a soul. How many more kicks can you take before they pack you in? The irony in that the sin was never yours. I abhor those who chose to lord over you. Please come aboard my raft of defiance, which is learning the science of your chemistry. Darling Angel.   I do not wish you to fall or fly, instead remain afloat, allow me to paddle my unshakeable boat towards you, with a view of amorous intentions. My salvation, who will surely be my downfall, my Samson. I know what you have undone. Me.
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Sep 2, 2013
Sep 2, 2013 at 5:20 PM UTC
My Angel Bound By Skin.
My beautiful walking Angel, please don't fly away. It was only you who could lift me, from the darkest night and days of life without her. My walking Angel. He talks as though he has one foot above, he walks this earth afloat already. Leaving me fitfully to wait, in my safely anchored boat. He's so sure of his inadequacy, yet I would gladly soak myself in fear, just so that I could have him near. Sweet glorious Angel. Clipped wings yet so ready to fly. If you were to die, then part of me would surely go too. I'm already bound to you. We both chose immediately to shield that which makes us, from others, yet to each other, we managed not to yield to the temptation of our defences. In spite of the offences of those who've gone past, leaving a lasting brand in our skin, of each terrible individual sin. Each scar wrought within. Innocent Angel. I am completely vulnerable to you. Usually so overly aware of danger, I have already, affectively, sworn my life to you. This next page is yours. Dangerous Angel. Whether you lift me up to fall, or pull me down to drown, I shall walk where you tread. A breadcrumb trail of tears in my wake, as I am shaken awake from your dream Your soul left to rest in the gleam of my eye. An unsnuffable candle to guide you back to me. Athiest Angel, I was asleep before you came and awoke me with your kiss, jerking my heart from it's Ivy covered cage, our instantaneous gauge of our compatibility creating a feasibility of merging. Gentle Angel. You took my beating soul and gouged it with a caress, spelt your name and my destruction, with your irresistible seduction of vulnerability, and tranquility of purity. My tender Angel. Your knifepoint was always fated for my ribs. Take me with you if you leave, allow me to anchor- no better- hold you, and embolden you to be whatever the **** you want to be. With your battered suitcase of a soul. How many more kicks can you take before they pack you in? The irony in that the sin was never yours. I abhor those who chose to lord over you. Please come aboard my raft of defiance, which is learning the science of your chemistry. Darling Angel.   I do not wish you to fall or fly, instead remain afloat, allow me to paddle my unshakeable boat towards you, with a view of amorous intentions. My salvation, who will surely be my downfall, my Samson. I know what you have undone. Me.
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95
Humility escapes The proud So that it can Embolden The meek Like a small child With a pencil Discovering The Temple Is weak.
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Apr 28, 2019
Apr 28, 2019 at 3:51 AM UTC
Strike thy Tyrant
Sorry your flowers are late I purchased them each one and the color was representing the many individual friends a delightful blue Iris was no other than S.P. when dark shadows gather as they sometimes do she is the bluing of Beautiful contrast this rich blue spreads from point of origin to the eye engulfing all visible ranges a Small but great blue lifts the very shadows up until the sun vanquishes them by golden light then the red Hues embolden of richness many times it is spent but never squandered and its riches never diminish or Disappear in friendships ever rewarding garment he endures R.P. Violet this friend this light was Adorned in grave clothes to join her loved ones of all generations but her influence warmth and the Kindness that cannot die lingers it wafts across fields it passes through airy open window you smile Unknowingly because she is by your side and not ever more so than your birthday precious one her Initials are N.V. yellow so rich it blushes the wind this shear fabric so light it waves as pure silk you were Given this gift early in life its folds hold so much treasured moments grasses trees houses playful side Walks a stream of memories that bind you in the same vase others have beheld your combined beauty Of thought and action I.M… The green of a soldier is enjoined by the mist it drifts it has patterns truth And faith walks within this creature that has stature her face calls the night bugler all is dispensed Within her voice is the kindest authority to all duty is understood in its deepest meaning G.H.E. then we Come to multicolored piece of finest art true this grandness walks by your side and more so in your Heart vestures sown with silver in glowing gold if an ever the hair turn to silver the cold black of youth Will tower into all sunsets and grand children will always bring rays of joy and laughter happy belated birthday Roberta
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Sep 2, 2012
Sep 2, 2012 at 1:07 PM UTC
Sorry your flowers are late
Sorry your flowers are late I purchased them each one and the color was representing the many individual friends a delightful blue Iris was no other than S.P. when dark shadows gather as they sometimes do she is the bluing of Beautiful contrast this rich blue spreads from point of origin to the eye engulfing all visible ranges a Small but great blue lifts the very shadows up until the sun vanquishes them by golden light then the red Hues embolden of richness many times it is spent but never squandered and its riches never diminish or Disappear in friendships ever rewarding garment he endures R.P. Violet this friend this light was Adorned in grave clothes to join her loved ones of all generations but her influence warmth and the Kindness that cannot die lingers it wafts across fields it passes through airy open window you smile Unknowingly because she is by your side and not ever more so than your birthday precious one her Initials are N.V. yellow so rich it blushes the wind this shear fabric so light it waves as pure silk you were Given this gift early in life its folds hold so much treasured moments grasses trees houses playful side Walks a stream of memories that bind you in the same vase others have beheld your combined beauty Of thought and action I.M… The green of a soldier is enjoined by the mist it drifts it has patterns truth And faith walks within this creature that has stature her face calls the night bugler all is dispensed Within her voice is the kindest authority to all duty is understood in its deepest meaning G.H.E. then we Come to multicolored piece of finest art true this grandness walks by your side and more so in your Heart vestures sown with silver in glowing gold if an ever the hair turn to silver the cold black of youth Will tower into all sunsets and grand children will always bring rays of joy and laughter happy belated birthday Roberta
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20
I wanted to once more return on Home; to stand upon the front-porch, hand-crafted by a Supreme knowledge of your skin. To ignite the necessary ember to fuel the fire behind your eyes; to linger in the door frame as a way to embolden that birthmark I always encouraged upon your, half-swollen heart. I wanted to Unconsciously return again to a singular dependence on your five-o-clock laugh or upon the fact that my ******* always saluted the way your *** got zipped up in those Levi's, all the way up, to your Blue Collar. I haven't been able to shake off your Novelty; travelling the World and devouring boys like you, in stale rooms and motionless autos, where their skin made me Itch, and left nothing but bed bug souvenirs to nestle in my brain. *(It's not their fault that lavender and cotton, never smelled as good on a girl like me)*
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Nov 21, 2013
Nov 21, 2013 at 9:51 PM UTC
Lavender & Cotton.
It is a place of abode to eternity Everything is vivacious and startling With the blessing of almighty! Nature creates its own mystic presence With its vigor and extensiveness To make it generous! Everything resembles with our life and its process Inspire and embolden to lead the life! In the end we return to the place In search of eternal peace! It is a place of perpetual wind We call it ‘Balpakram’ !
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Jan 2, 2022
Jan 2, 2022 at 1:20 PM UTC
Place of perpetual wind
I saw a banner “See something say something” bestriding a Union City street raising eyebrows of suspicion in a hood’s ***** retreat I see blood red MAGA caps embolden distemperate fits ready to answer jingoistic dissings with an *** kickin liberty chit I see a Blue Line stained flag It slices a field of united states a wall to seperate us from them God save us from reprobates I hear shouts hailing militarism saluting troops marching to war Patriots offer sons and daughters from families of the nation’s poor I see a hoisted Gadsden Flag boasting Don’t Tread on Me true liberty a hissing asp venomous country tis of thee I see the stirring marches aggrieved white nationalists sing Confederacy of Blood and Soil! cries for freedom ring Music: Lotte Lenya in Alabama Song by Kurt Weill recording 1930 Art: George Grosz Vienna Street Fight Puyallup 7/10/18 jbm
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Jul 10, 2018
Jul 10, 2018 at 8:17 PM UTC
see something say something
Forsooth, this *** of thine, so pert and tight and Denim clad, orbs of wanton desire that gadded man did wrest folly, and smite wretched fortitude with embolden'd fire of lust. verily, a janus faced Goddess temptress to the recklings of gawded cheeks.
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Mar 23, 2013
Mar 23, 2013 at 11:56 AM UTC
"- An *** of significance -"
Funny how life seems everything but not worth any more pain, the snow is reducing to hail outside my Parisian window but it will take me years to thaw your heart I put the frozen peas in the microwave and hope what would it be like to have all fragments of your should lay defrosted on my bone china plate But all that happens is that I keep on romanticizing pain and contemplating that if my ruptured ligament can heal up in 3 weeks, Then why can’t our hidden love embolden up into a bone? Funny how all my dreams seem to have left their axis and moved farther away into some other galaxy and nothing seems right anymore, And you who seemed like the only date I waited for in the calendar, Has turned into the Mayan code of Mayan calendar that I can’t decipher at all.
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Jan 30, 2014
Jan 30, 2014 at 7:10 AM UTC
Untitled
*I don't understand why people hesitate to compliment others. Have we all not had those days where we really felt like all we needed was some appreciation? Those days where our efforts were nothing but invalidated and dismissed? The universe has presented itself to you in an ethereal way that is unique to you and solely you. Let the cosmos influence and inspire you and let your words and your work elate and embolden others. Admit your awe and affection and maybe you can be that one piece of inspiration that someone else needs that day.*
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Sep 9, 2015
Sep 9, 2015 at 1:48 PM UTC
Admit Your Awe
again, i hang my head in shame a victim of my own impulse burning every last good thing i have i dont deserve any peace of what i have the god of destruction laid its home in my chest & has ceased to loosen its hold on me i built the universe only to be afraid of everything honest & real i have spread my fingers over the land only to embolden the wicked & punish the good i have betrayed any trust you have laid in me & tonight i know it ends because again, i hang my head in shame knowing i will break your heart with nothing but the truth i am a victim of my own impulse which must mean i am no victim at all...
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Jun 29, 2022
Jun 29, 2022 at 8:14 PM UTC
shame
The Pregnant Unknown trails softly behind us: Love’s secret voice whispering, even begging us to surrender hesitancy, that precarious net new lovers hold while wading barefoot in shallow waters… …this tide gently pulls us further, Love offers us the gift of buoyancy over its fearful depths as we pass in and out of each others arms… Angels and demons on either side, guiding us, but they can only see so far – oh, the power we hold! We are both: pillars anchored separately in Love and that space in between where we mix beyond praise and premonition, outside of time, yet we unfold. Embolden by your spirit, your imperfections revealing your vulnerability, framing your beauty and humanity, my own dawn with blinding clarity and stories untold. Complete and overthrown by this Mystery peeking from behind our fear, dancing through our fresh eyes, we are Here mirroring in Love’s infinite womb.
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Mar 10, 2013
Mar 10, 2013 at 3:27 PM UTC
The Pregnant Unknown
Each moment give lesson certain determines to us, Often it echoes on frequent level in my mind, And tranquil measureless moans accumulated still o'er guess, And embolden too the state of perplexity bind. Standing aloof solitary, from the worldly affairs Mainly I feel behaving tutelary this nature, To thrive in life as section indicates, And react perennial affectionate voice of warbler. Setting sometime in lap of productive reach, Enrich with corn-seed, paddy and sugar-cane, I assume numerous hidden hymnal consideration preach, Sacrifice for betterment glide making other sustain. Swinging swiftly at the hilly terrible groves Shrub and thistly atmosphere, provoking gorgon fear; Ne'er contradict genuine a horrible warning relieves Give support always deserving deafen destructive cheer. Or sipping brine, before nymphomaniac watching zeal, Dumb caution centralize, beware alluring notion create Nip stiff witty desire render stigmatize deal: Ye propel next to Him in power approximate.
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Jun 6, 2013
Jun 6, 2013 at 7:42 AM UTC
Each Moment Give Lesson
To the one who has my heart, I love you. I love you as deeply as the deepest trench, As vastly as the expanse of the universe, As greatly as the highest mountain. I love you so much I have been consumed by it, I have been swallowed by its tidal waves, I have been dried up by its arid air, I have been devoured by its rabid hunger. I love you. But I'm realizing, I love me more, And me loves me back; I breathe life into myself, I inflate and empower and embolden me; I am neither consumed nor weakened; I am on top of my own mountain tops, Cooled down by my own streams, Tackling the corners of the universe. Sincerely, Yours truly, I will always love you, But I choose me.
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Dec 5, 2014
Dec 5, 2014 at 12:57 PM UTC
Love Letter
As always, amazing, Will. So much there in your poetic words, like countless shapes in the clouds... clouds which frame the sun, and those that are inclined to rain. Poet, philosopher, artist, all know the freedom and occasional dangers of obfuscation. They do not fear it. They paint, and paint, with brushes and words of many colors and shades, while the sunbather and the farmer wait for their share of warmth and rain. All is not always as it seems. The crow learns that, at the drive-up one has to pay his way, to "have it your way" at Burger King. And still, despite it all, the farmer's crops and the suntan continue to confound impotent anxiety, while the crow makes his way beneath the benches where random crumbs embolden him to claim his own victory. So passes another day in the life of a poet.
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Jul 31, 2013
Jul 31, 2013 at 6:41 PM UTC
A Day in the Life
The lust for destruction of the souls Gods hand refused to stay While the Lucifers power ruled this earth And black minds he would sway The desire for mayhem and gold Govern their embolden lies God in his mercy allowed these living marked 666 to remain so Not once But twice. The third time however Azrael began to call The earth shivered, the stars wept when it began The last coming  The judgment of us all. The Parchment was unrolled to reveal, The evil atrocities executed in the dark. No pleading or cries for the deeds, against humanity Bear seeds of atonement from those empty of heart. So, one by one the dominion of angels Swords of divine light Did come, The first through the seventh sang the holy notes Until the last song was sung. The names of that condemned will never again be spoken, Nor ever found in the book of gold. They exist now only in the bowels of the earth, An ephemeral memory to be told. All Rights Reserved @ Tammy M. Darby Mar. 17, 2017
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Mar 17, 2017
Mar 17, 2017 at 12:04 PM UTC
The Last Coming
The Scene and Sounds Invite The mystery did Venus descend to a nightly wood invest her uncommonness upon the maiden fair she stood deathly still the moonlight Turned her skin to porcelain white the black hooded cloak gave her the airy feel of disembodiment and then she moved it wasn’t steps But a floating fluid motion across the glen timeless shadows she stirred into the mist she disappeared I will go back in this dream For ever how long it takes till her hand I may take and with loves embolden voice I shall speak so tenderly the night air so brooding and Heavy will easily bear its weight in the cradle of wonder she brought powers of the long ago chants amidst hoary frost the dark forest Knows the call of sounds so deep only the deadly silence brings reverberation from a mere whisper a gasp would be the equivalent to Thunder I seek not mortal treasure but loves essence never will it divide and scatter as dispersed light tinged in every single living Expression how the heart swells as it dwells on delicacies forbidden to the casual visitor but come with a burning hunger for love You will not know disappointment romance is in the tenderest shoot the tendril vine trembles with the slightest breeze it’s the portent Of a mighty wind the heart and locks of a warrior has come into view love will wind and turn on its own path it will amaze lovers to no End come and know private and secret dreams its breath blows in from coastal winds invigorates all before its march a song you will Sing among all that is wild you are invited to play among Shakespearian hills and fields know uncommon heights carry new found Knowledge over boundless seas to lands stooped in backward ways you will be their guide the crude and mundane you will over rule With one taste of your freedom you will give them the path if taken will make them kings and builders of kingdoms
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Aug 29, 2012
Aug 29, 2012 at 2:23 PM UTC
The Scene and Sounds Invite
The Scene and Sounds Invite The mystery did Venus descend to a nightly wood invest her uncommonness upon the maiden fair she stood deathly still the moonlight Turned her skin to porcelain white the black hooded cloak gave her the airy feel of disembodiment and then she moved it wasn’t steps But a floating fluid motion across the glen timeless shadows she stirred into the mist she disappeared I will go back in this dream For ever how long it takes till her hand I may take and with loves embolden voice I shall speak so tenderly the night air so brooding and Heavy will easily bear its weight in the cradle of wonder she brought powers of the long ago chants amidst hoary frost the dark forest Knows the call of sounds so deep only the deadly silence brings reverberation from a mere whisper a gasp would be the equivalent to Thunder I seek not mortal treasure but loves essence never will it divide and scatter as dispersed light tinged in every single living Expression how the heart swells as it dwells on delicacies forbidden to the casual visitor but come with a burning hunger for love You will not know disappointment romance is in the tenderest shoot the tendril vine trembles with the slightest breeze it’s the portent Of a mighty wind the heart and locks of a warrior has come into view love will wind and turn on its own path it will amaze lovers to no End come and know private and secret dreams its breath blows in from coastal winds invigorates all before its march a song you will Sing among all that is wild you are invited to play among Shakespearian hills and fields know uncommon heights carry new found Knowledge over boundless seas to lands stooped in backward ways you will be their guide the crude and mundane you will over rule With one taste of your freedom you will give them the path if taken will make them kings and builders of kingdoms
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15
Hello, This strange dream continues leading me through dim hallways devoid of you and empty carriages that take me there- to where you used to be; a time where golden rays of sunshine embolden me to newer heights, till i never remember that you were never here- a mere memory betrayed, a figment of my imagination, you alight on my mind, twittering a senseless tune, random things to suppress what is really there- the sum of crazy.
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May 3, 2014
May 3, 2014 at 1:52 AM UTC
Psyche
They are always laid on their backs, hands folded delicately, almost as if in bedtime prayer, over their still bosoms - as was custom to call it then in that undefined historical time in which all sleeping princesses forever dream. I am reminded of them now as you lie there, my drowsy prince in a comforter castle. You who lie there so unassumingly, your quivering lips impetus enough to embolden anyone, knight or otherwise, to scale the stony towers of your blanketed confinement. But as i watch you i find that i am no princess, and far from the gallant savior your fairy tales promised. I have no sword with which to save you, and no beast to save you from beyond the snoring dog at your feet. There's no poisoned spool or fruit to trap you, no wicked witch's scheme, just a heavy head and a warm pillow beneath it, And how foolish i look now, worn pajamas replacing the silver armor i should have on. so sleep my dear prince, and dream of the hero you want me to be, and i'll stand guard by the door, trying my best to keep the dust bunnies and dragons at bay.
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May 30, 2011
May 30, 2011 at 4:35 PM UTC
Prince Charming
This is expository in nature Hang on tight Serenity of life Gray skies for the choices I Find time to make Right up until the rain Comes down Real time precipitation For the sole reason Of flooding my soul Charging the clouds With negative energy Eventuality says they'll burst Sooner or later And as the water flows down to the earth Then up and over my teeth Nearly up to my shoulders Growing ever higher Ever getting closer It was all inevitability Trying to change the sky Is slowly ******* killing me With every single storm That rolls by Its beyond me And you too Too soon When will I be taken? Who can tell But hell, if I don't know when When time itself never began **** estimations, and **** plans One way to escape We all know the way A darkened cave A lonely overhang No one dares approach for Fear of going missing There's so much more I wanted to say Words and phrases before I made my final escape This cave I know May be too cold For The embolden spirits Who hold on dearly to Earthy merit But know this No one will be missed In a minute
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Jul 9, 2017
Jul 9, 2017 at 3:59 AM UTC
Meditating, then Floating