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"enraptures" poems
The mellifluous tones of his voice Put my heart at ease Lulled by the sound he makes, I get lost in reverie Is it the tenderness in his voice? Or perhaps the words he utter? Or his cloying expression? I am not so sure Whatever it may be, My heart always sings with glee Then I begin to cry And express my deepest sentiment How strange yet astonishing it is, To feel everything at once Just by hearing the sweet sound Of the voice that enraptures me
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May 8, 2017
May 8, 2017 at 3:00 PM UTC
His Voice
"the picture you called badass" i keep coming back to this image your gaze is shifted off as if to say that you wished not to speak with your eyes wished not to show too much of your beautiful soul strands of your hair scattered across your soft skin every beautiful line every sweetly scented soft taste and the warmth i see in you enraptures me i feel dizzy with thoughts that you bring out that is what true beauty dose to men but you are so much more than simply beautiful i have seen your tenderness i have seen that you have heart i know you are just as beautiful inside i wish things could have been different and i could have at least been your friend i wish i were not a fool but we all make choices that are not the best i am far away from you now and i will miss you i think that we wont see eachother again if i fail where i am going there is a plan for another route that takes me overseas you are one of the most beautiful and strong and wonderful women i have ever met and i wish you nothing but love and happiness 'stay gold' serenity 'stay gold'
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May 4, 2013
May 4, 2013 at 7:26 PM UTC
serenity
She rises and falls like a reposed breath before an entire world's visage in her encircled arms. The incandescent glow of the stage has an intoxicating quality to it, the music being something liquid, viscous. As notes thrum in tender and soothing caresses, her legs supple, twirl like petals cascading under the weight of raindrops, giving way to a lush surrender steeped in a language of love and need. Her very fire and impassioned soulfulness lifts her up above the crowd itself, burning for all to see. In this moment now her timelessness enraptures me. Another part of myself awakens to her grace and renders me gratefully whole. A sense of euphoria slow dances its way from her being to mine, consuming every piece of my body in a fiery bloom— charging me with a crackling, electrifying force unlike my mere own. I can see now that this is what she was born to do— to be on pointe, seeing everything. Any instances of worldly fear is left to the dying. The rhythms of her old pains, tribulations of past destructions, are now buried beneath her feet. And her radiant smile while she dances still speaks to me gently— that to be free is to be wonderfully lost in her waltz with destiny. © BT
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Nov 19, 2017
Nov 19, 2017 at 8:52 PM UTC
The Poised Dream
I send this track Out to the Universe Praying its echoes Reach the farthest corners of the Earth To reach you I want the melody To seep into your skin The synthesizer To shake your ribs Each percussive meter Synced to your beating heart And as the music fades And the ethereal chimes Tickle the silence Imagine my fingers Tracing your lips Pulling you in for a taste of bliss I hope this track Transcends the airwaves That my light Enraptures you And embalms you In Affection
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Jul 13, 2017
Jul 13, 2017 at 2:20 PM UTC
Single Track
We spoke like a light mist of rain quenching the thirst of these grounds and I reached out my hand and dragged him away from the blood hounds stripping away his ego along with his clothes which masked his vulnerability I teach one to let go he said I can't help this feeling through his tears and mental exhaustion with whispers of fear the darkness had consumed him and in a moment of clarity I spoke with honesty he had decieved himself everyone can help whatever feeling enraptures them feeling down and out is a product of your own resolution each thought we have can be chosen and the world around you has no power over the mind unless you allow it
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Nov 28, 2012
Nov 28, 2012 at 11:41 AM UTC
Empowerment
kitty has come out to play her whiskers detect the yearning trembles her nose smells the fragrance of lust am i your **** cheetah? the spots inky, the fur lustrous the paws aching and alive the eyes full of thirst i purr with the twitch of your skin my teeth scrape my tongue salivates my heart beat escalates my ***** pulsate my claws absorb you my lean mean enraptures, takes over. don't move, kitty wants to play. she'll make you purr before the night is through
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Feb 29, 2012
Feb 29, 2012 at 9:44 PM UTC
kitty
Seduced by Debussy In music I lose me When notes float on staves Rolling in with the waves Of pure sound. The music around me surrounds me Enraptures and captures my heart. Arabesque,clair de lune take me off to the moon And again I'm in rapture Trapped in the capture of music.
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Mar 2, 2013
Mar 2, 2013 at 10:00 PM UTC
Key
Her lips, now draw so near mine— static hums, lightning sings, my fingertips zing. Our breath suspends in flight, threads pulled oh so tight; My hunger coils— her taste, pure starlight. Our flesh enraptures, trembles nearly bare— a storm unfolds, surging ever slowly— there.
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Feb 11, 2025
Feb 11, 2025 at 12:02 PM UTC
The Unspoken Current
market report: spinning on an axis of complexity phrase captures and enraptures, buried deep in one of the countless market reports that arrive every minute out of date by the time they press the end/send button but this rises up from the forged gorge throat and all the rest falls away spinning on an axis of complexity sticks like Elmer's glue, white viscous, good for paper & skin, cause you knew precision revision incision instantaneous, they are intended for your eyes only, pasted to your eyes, tinged tongue screaming you man, you poem there is no difference, for both at 1:55am   where time is sleep verboten,   when words are blood platelets in a mystery entitled spinning on an axis of complexity human must eat human must work human must love human must sort the juggling orbs, too much new information constant and brain incapacitated *while falling-spinning when eyes now fully glued shut by the complexity of clashing algorithms writing this market report on the state of me, the passionate impartial analyst who boldly reveals, he proclaims he owns stock in himself and issues a sell recommendation* the complexity-situation trending signals crash a-coming, and at 1:59am after composing this hissy fit writ, he downgrades the official outlook to sell and lies down on the kitchen floor and laughs with the angel dudes eating bagels and holding their sides, cause they have been running a short position up in heaven 6/22/17 2:05am nyc
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Jul 13, 2017
Jul 13, 2017 at 11:01 PM UTC
market report: spinning on an axis of complexity
The human heart is very fragile indeed. Yes it is capable of holding and exuding such fiery passions as to consume you whole, Yet can it not be crushed underfoot with a wayward blow meant to push away rather than injure or the sweet kiss of fare thee well from the object of your eternal desire? Love is not the monster that hides beneath your bed, rather under your sheets where you wistfully dream of your prince, your knight, the girl next door or the **** ********** Love is the creature that hunts for your immortal soul not by night but rather captures and enraptures you in the brightness of day with a single smile and words that only you amongst the billions in this world were meant to hear. Love is not the answer, it is the question in the truest sense which poets, songwriters and the daft have spent eternity trying to unravel, it is a puzzle without end for the missing pieces lie within us all and can only be found in another. And the creator in all his glory housed such a curse as a gift within the most fragile of vessels yet we stand shocked witness each time our hearts break.
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Jul 23, 2014
Jul 23, 2014 at 6:12 PM UTC
Fragile Vessel
The language of Love They finished a dinner by candle light the darkness just beyond the candle light created the Elusive hard to capture romantic mood this gave expression to longing and from it emerges an antique Glass plate image of a passenger car from yesteryear all else about the train was shrouded in the dark But how the car beamed and gleamed the invitation was like a magic wand with golden glittering light First through eyes then grazing the heart then the explosion that occurred in the soul the two of them Stepped onto the steps and entered a different time and different world elegance flowed the length Of the interior of the car from rich leather to the finest cloth from the carpeted floor to the delicate Chandeliered lights that hung from the ceiling at points where the sky view windows temporarily Stopped their customary flow that brought the day and night heavens within your power to touch Race along in the moonlight see the arching trees breaking with this glorious light is it not to as if you are Flying on the night wind the eyes have been caught up in a dream then the hearing stereophonic Romantic violin drifts within this cube that pulses did you leave the American river you were following As it curved and flowed in this mountain valley but now it seems you have jumped the track and are Now speeding through French Tuscany how the vineyards create a plausible bow that carries you back Even further when these villas were new and the youthful lovers were young they seem to press and Feed your own romanticism drink deeply from this post card from abroad as the train stops leave it Momentarily hand in hand stroll down a darkened path the stillness only enraptures and you bask in the Wonder night creates and love grows ever stronger through the hand you hold well cupid or the Conductor shouts all aboard continue to enjoy your privileged ride it is the promise and the fulfillment of being in love
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Feb 7, 2012
Feb 7, 2012 at 12:43 PM UTC
The language of Love
The language of Love They finished a dinner by candle light the darkness just beyond the candle light created the Elusive hard to capture romantic mood this gave expression to longing and from it emerges an antique Glass plate image of a passenger car from yesteryear all else about the train was shrouded in the dark But how the car beamed and gleamed the invitation was like a magic wand with golden glittering light First through eyes then grazing the heart then the explosion that occurred in the soul the two of them Stepped onto the steps and entered a different time and different world elegance flowed the length Of the interior of the car from rich leather to the finest cloth from the carpeted floor to the delicate Chandeliered lights that hung from the ceiling at points where the sky view windows temporarily Stopped their customary flow that brought the day and night heavens within your power to touch Race along in the moonlight see the arching trees breaking with this glorious light is it not to as if you are Flying on the night wind the eyes have been caught up in a dream then the hearing stereophonic Romantic violin drifts within this cube that pulses did you leave the American river you were following As it curved and flowed in this mountain valley but now it seems you have jumped the track and are Now speeding through French Tuscany how the vineyards create a plausible bow that carries you back Even further when these villas were new and the youthful lovers were young they seem to press and Feed your own romanticism drink deeply from this post card from abroad as the train stops leave it Momentarily hand in hand stroll down a darkened path the stillness only enraptures and you bask in the Wonder night creates and love grows ever stronger through the hand you hold well cupid or the Conductor shouts all aboard continue to enjoy your privileged ride it is the promise and the fulfillment of being in love
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21
I am in love with chance and all her open promises, inherent risks, and bountiful rewards. I am in love with the idea of gambling myself into existence and riding the dice on a whim. Certainty bores and scares me, permanence poisons my happy mindset. I need risks and dangers and dumb ideas, it is in these that I find the fruit of life. I am in love with chance. She calls my name often, beckoning me to spend the night. She seduces me with ***** talk and a proven mind, flooding my heart with her drug. I long to fall into her, with her, to kiss her mouth and taste the poison of an uncertain life. I crave her in the night when there is naught but doubt in my mind. I am in love with chance and the chaos she brings. She is a storm that tosses my little boat on waves that could equally take me to paradise or a watery grave. She is fairness and equality, for chaos is truly fair, it rids me of order and structure. Her screaming pleasure enraptures me with a sodden wealth and unhealthy appetite for potential glories. I am in love with chance. She is my mistress, my plaything, the dark shadow that leaves my bed before the morning light. She is the elusive lover to whom my young heart belongs, the fiery being to which my trust is pledged. Chance has yet to let me down – perhaps that is why I love her. I am never disappointed in chance for she is, above all, fair and just. There is not evil or malice in she, there is no hidden agenda or destructive intent. I am in love with chance. I am in love with chance. I am in love with chance and her barren wealth. I am in love with chance and the way she feeds my zealous lust for life. I am in love with chance and she loves me. I am in love with chance and I must choose… I must choose between her love and your certain certainty.
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Jun 5, 2016
Jun 5, 2016 at 10:33 PM UTC
I am in love with Chance
I am in love with chance and all her open promises, inherent risks, and bountiful rewards. I am in love with the idea of gambling myself into existence and riding the dice on a whim. Certainty bores and scares me, permanence poisons my happy mindset. I need risks and dangers and dumb ideas, it is in these that I find the fruit of life. I am in love with chance. She calls my name often, beckoning me to spend the night. She seduces me with ***** talk and a proven mind, flooding my heart with her drug. I long to fall into her, with her, to kiss her mouth and taste the poison of an uncertain life. I crave her in the night when there is naught but doubt in my mind. I am in love with chance and the chaos she brings. She is a storm that tosses my little boat on waves that could equally take me to paradise or a watery grave. She is fairness and equality, for chaos is truly fair, it rids me of order and structure. Her screaming pleasure enraptures me with a sodden wealth and unhealthy appetite for potential glories. I am in love with chance. She is my mistress, my plaything, the dark shadow that leaves my bed before the morning light. She is the elusive lover to whom my young heart belongs, the fiery being to which my trust is pledged. Chance has yet to let me down – perhaps that is why I love her. I am never disappointed in chance for she is, above all, fair and just. There is not evil or malice in she, there is no hidden agenda or destructive intent. I am in love with chance. I am in love with chance. I am in love with chance and her barren wealth. I am in love with chance and the way she feeds my zealous lust for life. I am in love with chance and she loves me. I am in love with chance and I must choose… I must choose between her love and your certain certainty.
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11
the words are crisp in my mouth but by the time they hit the door they are stale as my hand they are gone like wisps of smoke their scent decorates the room and brings a parade of memories feasts with laughing friends and a long footpath with her blue dress it makes my sunshine weary and drives clouds into my souls parklands she is one such long misbegotten memory she was a true love of mine she is gone like a wisp of smoke on a beach she.... she makes my time pass slow and leaves me wanting to repaint the moons difficult changing colors as it waxes and wanes thru the seasons like her deep eyes but she mends with love and she nourishes with compassion and she makes cut out stars and comets that we pin to the ceiling she makes breakfast we eat it  laying in a open field listening to the fall wind rustle the trees i master this lame beast and contrive to march it slowly through the night while it seized and sputtered to the edge of light the edge of forgiveness there i lay down but the world has no further use for a broken old man potions and notions antiquated she with a woman's gentleness gathers up what remains of me chiding me softly for having wandered astray knitting the pieces parts to semblance she admits beyond mere frowns her reasons for being here that my words reach her that my soul enraptures her my humor embraces her and unlike many others she has known my heart hears her every word and thirsts to know her mind love affairs are more than in a bedroom they are in the heart and mind i will have my lover and know her because everything about her matters to me
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Oct 14, 2013
Oct 14, 2013 at 1:51 PM UTC
wisps of smoke
the words are crisp in my mouth but by the time they hit the door they are stale as my hand they are gone like wisps of smoke their scent decorates the room and brings a parade of memories feasts with laughing friends and a long footpath with her blue dress it makes my sunshine weary and drives clouds into my souls parklands she is one such long misbegotten memory she was a true love of mine she is gone like a wisp of smoke on a beach she.... she makes my time pass slow and leaves me wanting to repaint the moons difficult changing colors as it waxes and wanes thru the seasons like her deep eyes but she mends with love and she nourishes with compassion and she makes cut out stars and comets that we pin to the ceiling she makes breakfast we eat it  laying in a open field listening to the fall wind rustle the trees i master this lame beast and contrive to march it slowly through the night while it seized and sputtered to the edge of light the edge of forgiveness there i lay down but the world has no further use for a broken old man potions and notions antiquated she with a woman's gentleness gathers up what remains of me chiding me softly for having wandered astray knitting the pieces parts to semblance she admits beyond mere frowns her reasons for being here that my words reach her that my soul enraptures her my humor embraces her and unlike many others she has known my heart hears her every word and thirsts to know her mind love affairs are more than in a bedroom they are in the heart and mind i will have my lover and know her because everything about her matters to me
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51
*A Love Poem From Jude Kyrie They walked on the snow covered city sidewalk. An old couple with slowing gait and unsure of their foothold. He stopped under the streetlamp holding her gently close to his heart. Looking into her gray eyes still beautiful untouched by the ravages of time from so many long years. Do you remember, my love? You smiled at me here so long ago. so very long ago under this very lamp. Her face lightened a smile flickered “yes, my darling I remember”. The years fell away as leaves in the fall and the icy world melted in their moment of tender warmth. He pulled her close to him. Her body no longer old and frail. He felt the strong woman inside her the one he had loved forever. I think of you in my dreams he whispered join me in them my love. You are wearing a summer dress holding the single white rose I brought for you. The music in the café plays a waltz. It swells and halts and ladies sit in red gilded chairs sipping coffee. The summer breezes the fragrance of love into this room Your smile once again enraptures my heart. Your eyes darken as they find mine, filling me with yet unfulfilled promises. We are drowning in the melody about us the music takes our hearts and shines them as the sunlight on dewdrops. Just the single pure white rose cupped in your hands. She smiled at the old memory Her visions sharing his dream. Even after this lifetime together. "It is strange how one day and a single white rose can make lifetime lovers from just friends." she whispered.*
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Dec 29, 2016
Dec 29, 2016 at 9:52 AM UTC
A Single White Rose
*A Love Poem From Jude Kyrie They walked on the snow covered city sidewalk. An old couple with slowing gait and unsure of their foothold. He stopped under the streetlamp holding her gently close to his heart. Looking into her gray eyes still beautiful untouched by the ravages of time from so many long years. Do you remember, my love? You smiled at me here so long ago. so very long ago under this very lamp. Her face lightened a smile flickered “yes, my darling I remember”. The years fell away as leaves in the fall and the icy world melted in their moment of tender warmth. He pulled her close to him. Her body no longer old and frail. He felt the strong woman inside her the one he had loved forever. I think of you in my dreams he whispered join me in them my love. You are wearing a summer dress holding the single white rose I brought for you. The music in the café plays a waltz. It swells and halts and ladies sit in red gilded chairs sipping coffee. The summer breezes the fragrance of love into this room Your smile once again enraptures my heart. Your eyes darken as they find mine, filling me with yet unfulfilled promises. We are drowning in the melody about us the music takes our hearts and shines them as the sunlight on dewdrops. Just the single pure white rose cupped in your hands. She smiled at the old memory Her visions sharing his dream. Even after this lifetime together. "It is strange how one day and a single white rose can make lifetime lovers from just friends." she whispered.*
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48
*A single White Rose They walked on the snow covered city sidewalk An old couple slowly gaited and unsure of their foothold. He stopped under the the old streetlamp holding her gently to him in an embrace. Looking into her grey eyes still beautiful untouched by the ravages of time. Do you remember? my love. You smiled at me here so long ago. so very long ago under this very lamp. Her face lightened a smile flickered “yes my darling I remember”. The years fell as leaves in the fall and the icy world melted in their moment of warmth. He pulled her closer to him Her body no longer old and frail He felt the great woman inside her the one he had loved forever. I think of you in my dreams join me my love. she smiled as he drifted to bygone years. You are wearing a summer dress holding a single white rose I brought you. The music in the café plays a waltz. It swells and halts and ladies sit in red gilded chairs sipping coffee. The summer breeze of love blows into this room Your smile again enraptures my heart. Your eyes darken as they find mine, filling me with yet unfulfilled promises. We are drowning in the melody about us the music takes our hearts and shines them as the sunlight. Just the single pure white rose cupped in your hands. She smiled in memory Her visions sharing his even after this lifetime together. "It is strange how one day and a single white rose can make lifetime lovers from just friends." she whispered.*
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Dec 28, 2015
Dec 28, 2015 at 12:30 PM UTC
A single white rose
Bursting out of me, like waves, crahing against a distant shore, my voice cascades wildly; trilling and thrilling, as it enraptures and captures the emotion of the tale yet to come. Warbling, and wavering, the story unfolds- a love concrete, a life complete, while time doth fleet, and flitter away. My passionate notes startle the birds nearby, silencing thier meager attempts at music. I am no virtuoso, no child prodigy; but the raw power of my heart unrestrained will put feathered tails to the north at the sound of my soul unleashed. I sing; not a question or doubt in my mind- there is no audience to impress, no friends to shame me into awkward silence. I sing, because I must release the fluttering creation caged inside my soul; unaltered, it must emerge to outshine the stars, to chase away the shadows that linger in a waking mind. I might offend with my noise, my off notes, and slaughtered choruses, my silly screeching that grates upon the ears; but I am merely a vessel containing these words and emotions, unfortunately unequipped to perform justice to these thoughts trapped within. I sing to empty myself of these creative burdens, these ideas that have a life of thier own straining and pushing to escape the walls that hold them here inside. I sing- because I can.
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Jan 30, 2015
Jan 30, 2015 at 11:47 AM UTC
I Sing Because I Can
The sunrise burns with fire just as my desire I wish I could erase you from my mind I wish to forget you this time empty stare windowing wishes of being there I've met my tolerance for this pain I'm losing the game, slowly running insane I'm sinking down, waiting for the black water to crown This is going so slow, this descent of a new low I wish I could erase you from my mind I wish to forget you this time stomach ache, smiles that I fake rewind time with my mind, so I know you not to find wishing well of forgetting spells enraptures my skull I will not give in to your lull, repeat this defeat scar it in again I wish I could erase you from my mind I wish to forget you this time You're forgetting me as I reminisce you that much is true I'm sick of staring at the same black hue twisted heart and scared hands I was your biggest ******* fan now I've seen your future plan I wish I could erase you from my mind I wish to forget you this time maybe it's the truth that I was meant for you but you weren't good for me You poisoned the sea and now all that's left is fractures of that huge fee cracked heart of stone I'm tired of listening to the same old tone I wish I could erase you from my mind I wish to forget you this time I need to give it up You'll never be mine Shattered shattered I'm sick of thinking I never mattered make it stop, make it go away I don't want to go on another day this is going to slow, this descent of a new low I wish I could erase you from my mind I wish to forget you this time.
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Jan 21, 2014
Jan 21, 2014 at 1:27 PM UTC
Fractured
The sunrise burns with fire just as my desire I wish I could erase you from my mind I wish to forget you this time empty stare windowing wishes of being there I've met my tolerance for this pain I'm losing the game, slowly running insane I'm sinking down, waiting for the black water to crown This is going so slow, this descent of a new low I wish I could erase you from my mind I wish to forget you this time stomach ache, smiles that I fake rewind time with my mind, so I know you not to find wishing well of forgetting spells enraptures my skull I will not give in to your lull, repeat this defeat scar it in again I wish I could erase you from my mind I wish to forget you this time You're forgetting me as I reminisce you that much is true I'm sick of staring at the same black hue twisted heart and scared hands I was your biggest ******* fan now I've seen your future plan I wish I could erase you from my mind I wish to forget you this time maybe it's the truth that I was meant for you but you weren't good for me You poisoned the sea and now all that's left is fractures of that huge fee cracked heart of stone I'm tired of listening to the same old tone I wish I could erase you from my mind I wish to forget you this time I need to give it up You'll never be mine Shattered shattered I'm sick of thinking I never mattered make it stop, make it go away I don't want to go on another day this is going to slow, this descent of a new low I wish I could erase you from my mind I wish to forget you this time.
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42
I have curiosity of the wrong kind, the kind that gnaws, the kind that enraptures, Does his mouth suppurates anise? Or did you really thought he could make you happy? You cheated on him, not on me. You told him that some day soon, that you didn't love me anymore. You cheated on him, not on me. He was looking for moons on your skin While you wondered to yourself If you want him more than you need me. It only took one cloud to know the truth, It only took one drop of rain to give sound to the river Does not his lion skin make a better coat? Does he has not eager hands? Did not the common breath approached you to death? Or what was that indecency? leaving his body once thoroughly you left it without secrets? You cheated on him, not on me. The lips that assailed him, the next day swore to me That you cheated on him, not on me. I'm the drug in your veins, He is an itch, he's an urgency. Do you want him more than you need me? No, It don't seem like that to me.
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Mar 6, 2013
Mar 6, 2013 at 1:09 AM UTC
Curiosity of the wrong kind.
I wonder— Have you ever taken the time to notice, how Summer's sun can clear gunmetal skies, or how it refracts off the water of a somber heaven— Filling the darkness behind your eyes? I wonder— Have you ever taken the time to notice, how when Spring's roses begin to  blossom the wind carries love's scent through the air or how it effortlessly enraptures— permeating beauty from within the pigment of it's petals? I wonder— have you ever taken the time to notice, how the cycle of Autumn's leaves remain parallel to the frailty of the living or how the perpetuity of their purpose is either known of and ignored or understood and accepted? I wonder— Have you ever taken the time to notice how the Winter's deep freeze blankets and preserves the earth beneath our feet To walk upon in new years to come, Or how it brings forth the warmth of family's serenity?
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Jan 4, 2016
Jan 4, 2016 at 9:44 PM UTC
Have You Ever?
One look at you— And Time to me, seems a follower of yours, For your mesmerizing, comely appearance Which enraptures every ticking heart For sure has ensnared Time's— For it so seems that He's stopped the march of advancing age From reaching your youthful mien So you may parade your timeless beauty Across this globe inspiring life, Showcasing the victory you hold over time.
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Aug 9, 2022
Aug 9, 2022 at 5:15 PM UTC
Time Influencer
Clarity doesn’t always fit the rhyming scheme, And reverence doesn’t always amount to lines like “I have a dream.” But I find I like things to dance, It enraptures me, Especially to psytrance, It sets me free.
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Feb 4, 2015
Feb 4, 2015 at 7:32 PM UTC
Dance to Psytrance
"You're my exception." And then there is a kiss that pays no attention to my tears. I have a stupid grin on my face. My blanket is wrapped tighter than his fingers were around her wrist, begging her not to go. My eyes swell up and the credits roll. As I close my laptop, I close again my chest. See, it was exposed. So long. To the emotions and feelings and judgement of others. I thought I could handle it, but my gut was ripped out. My intestines were untangled on the floor. It's funny how something labeled as "small" is really so big. Kind of like love, you know? It's a word. A noun. 4 letters. Nothing more. But then you see it in action. You see the beauty, the ugly, the loathing, the accepting. Some see people holding hands, others see a man dying on a cross. Some see the covering of a blanket and others see the covering of His blood. But what enraptures us is what it is like when we are the scientist. It's an addiction. We crave the feeling. We want to shoot up hand holding. We want smoke acceptance. We cake our face in the ******* of beauty to fool the beholder all because we want to feel worthy enough to fight for. Every person has this image plastered in their lids. We see it, day in, day out. We go to the deli thinking, "Maybe she was the one. Should I have said something?" We go to the gym just to see this one guy who only comes in on Thursdays, Saturdays and twice on Tuesdays just because he can. We try so hard. We match our schedules up to people we have never even spoken to, because it's scripted. It's in the movies so it must be real. There must be magic. Fate. God. Someone. Those stories don't just come from thin air, right? I think I watch RomComs to reiterate to myself that that stuff doesn't happen in real life. No one is going to stop me from getting on a plane. No one is going to come to my place at 3am and tell me that they love me. I'm not going to go to Rome, run into a lost friend and find love. That just doesn't happen in real life. It's scripted. It's TOO perfect. And yet, I open my laptop, wash my hands, put on my mask, open my chest up and start to work on it again. The stitches never stay. The sutures are always ripped. The gauze is red but I convince myself it isn't blood, but rather love.
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Sep 21, 2013
Sep 21, 2013 at 1:42 AM UTC
"You're my exception"
"You're my exception." And then there is a kiss that pays no attention to my tears. I have a stupid grin on my face. My blanket is wrapped tighter than his fingers were around her wrist, begging her not to go. My eyes swell up and the credits roll. As I close my laptop, I close again my chest. See, it was exposed. So long. To the emotions and feelings and judgement of others. I thought I could handle it, but my gut was ripped out. My intestines were untangled on the floor. It's funny how something labeled as "small" is really so big. Kind of like love, you know? It's a word. A noun. 4 letters. Nothing more. But then you see it in action. You see the beauty, the ugly, the loathing, the accepting. Some see people holding hands, others see a man dying on a cross. Some see the covering of a blanket and others see the covering of His blood. But what enraptures us is what it is like when we are the scientist. It's an addiction. We crave the feeling. We want to shoot up hand holding. We want smoke acceptance. We cake our face in the ******* of beauty to fool the beholder all because we want to feel worthy enough to fight for. Every person has this image plastered in their lids. We see it, day in, day out. We go to the deli thinking, "Maybe she was the one. Should I have said something?" We go to the gym just to see this one guy who only comes in on Thursdays, Saturdays and twice on Tuesdays just because he can. We try so hard. We match our schedules up to people we have never even spoken to, because it's scripted. It's in the movies so it must be real. There must be magic. Fate. God. Someone. Those stories don't just come from thin air, right? I think I watch RomComs to reiterate to myself that that stuff doesn't happen in real life. No one is going to stop me from getting on a plane. No one is going to come to my place at 3am and tell me that they love me. I'm not going to go to Rome, run into a lost friend and find love. That just doesn't happen in real life. It's scripted. It's TOO perfect. And yet, I open my laptop, wash my hands, put on my mask, open my chest up and start to work on it again. The stitches never stay. The sutures are always ripped. The gauze is red but I convince myself it isn't blood, but rather love.
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i am the blood in the sink you are **** on the bathmat wash me off so we forget this failed flailing at repose's feet. ("maybe we can make each other's winter's feel all right.") no, i cannot make you quake in my mocha movement, draped in careful quirk pastel enraptures fantasies of argyle. drawing your fingers into motion along fantastical bony parts, effulgent with the newness of thrush april wetness, i have never felt so pasty dry.
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May 2, 2013
May 2, 2013 at 2:53 PM UTC
Untitled - jeff mangum show
Light breaks through the littered cinerescent clouds as I watch from a Windex streaked window Tangerine incandescence fighting it's way through as dusk approaches Warm rays caress my face through shadows of the evergreens that line the street As if a reflection of a giant brass *** was being cast into my living room Fragments of dust filter through the clementine colored air sitting cross legged on an old Persian rug covered in dog fur A weather beaten Japanese maple scratches its fingers on the window The stellar jays bask in this rare gift, hopping from branch to branch The inevitable gloom and grey catching up Ashen warfare surging on a daisy farm A sense of malevolence runs through the clouds A split screen between the high spirits and the melancholy The Castor and Pollux of the skies Like a giant wondrous creamsicle threatened of being swallowed up by the smoke This contention sends them blissfully unaware of the eclipsing nightfall that is upon them Twilight enraptures the heavens, ending in nebulous sovereignty
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Feb 24, 2013
Feb 24, 2013 at 9:57 PM UTC
Grey and Orange
The fog has rolled across The land, blanketing My senses. Surrounding me in Its icy maw. Her breath, It chills my spine. I feel so empty without That shawl, outside the Mantle of death. Here is where My spirit lies, here is my Domain. The tears of death revive Me, her chill embrace Enraptures me. If only I could spend Eternity in her sweet embrace If only, oh if only. It wont be long 'til I Am there with her, in her Of her, until I am her. Her fog has rolled across The land, blanketing My senses.
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Nov 9, 2011
Nov 9, 2011 at 11:00 AM UTC
The Lady Whom I loved