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"enunciated" poems
Time is fleeting as the spring river runoff that gushes out to sea A heart trickles out a moment, minute by minute, in a timeless ink drop; unmeasurable expanse      immured in spilled ink ―    manifest in the lexicon of poetry For only purged words cannot quench this thirst that is loneliness; it's a hunger that gnaws like an unsatisfiable ache ― a starving emptiness all hearts do one day taste Left in the sight of doubt and eyes that fail to believe what they see lain fallow in the silent indifference Lost in a lingering void unburied all around, bespoken out loud alone in plain sight a feigned understanding; reticent letters shape reluctant words to hold forth enunciated breathe The only words that still echo unstilted ― uttered  words indelibly felt from lips once sweet as daybreak dew     upon musing tongue ― tasting the only voiceless truth that ever broke my heart a vanishing wave that moved an ocean    deeply ... Jesse Stillwater ... 06 6 2018
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Jun 6, 2018
Jun 6, 2018 at 2:38 PM UTC
This Thirst that is Loneliness
She stands before the class Her voice rings loud and clear Each word beautifully enunciated For all who wish to hear The perennial English teacher She reads with such dramatics and flair Such a pity that its only noticed by students in the first few chairs She's reading out my poem She paints pictures with her words But honestly? Sometimes I find Her explanations quite absurd No, That's not what I meant! Dear teacher, stop twisting my verse! Dear students, please notice the flaws In the story she so carefully rehearsed It's amazing how sometimes she understands The thought and feelings of what I wrote And sometimes she gets it so very wrong That I want to strangle her throat She continues unperturbed By the lack of interest in the room Students only see her smile and energy Not her disappointment and gloom She worked so hard to teach them, A little appreciation would go far! But they just sit and pretend to listen As they wait for the end for the hour Finally, she comes across That fateful line The one that sparks a discussion I watch the class come to life In a tsunami of opinions, She smiles proudly, riding the wave She launches into her explanation And it's the completely wrong one she gave Its one of many misinterpretations Of my carefully crafted work There! That student! She understands what I meant! Now now, don't tell her she's wrong. Don't be a **** A debate ensues and words fly The classroom divides into two. Half are on my side, dear teacher And the other half believe you. Out of the blue, the bell rings For once the students want more time! A pat on the back for the English teacher. This victory is both hers and mine So what if she gets it wrong sometimes? So what what if she's too dramatic? Sometimes she's just unreasonable She's your average literature fanatic She always gets her point across Without having to scream and shout She teaches the students the value of words Isn't that what it's all about?
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Aug 21, 2014
Aug 21, 2014 at 10:21 AM UTC
The English Teacher
She stands before the class Her voice rings loud and clear Each word beautifully enunciated For all who wish to hear The perennial English teacher She reads with such dramatics and flair Such a pity that its only noticed by students in the first few chairs She's reading out my poem She paints pictures with her words But honestly? Sometimes I find Her explanations quite absurd No, That's not what I meant! Dear teacher, stop twisting my verse! Dear students, please notice the flaws In the story she so carefully rehearsed It's amazing how sometimes she understands The thought and feelings of what I wrote And sometimes she gets it so very wrong That I want to strangle her throat She continues unperturbed By the lack of interest in the room Students only see her smile and energy Not her disappointment and gloom She worked so hard to teach them, A little appreciation would go far! But they just sit and pretend to listen As they wait for the end for the hour Finally, she comes across That fateful line The one that sparks a discussion I watch the class come to life In a tsunami of opinions, She smiles proudly, riding the wave She launches into her explanation And it's the completely wrong one she gave Its one of many misinterpretations Of my carefully crafted work There! That student! She understands what I meant! Now now, don't tell her she's wrong. Don't be a **** A debate ensues and words fly The classroom divides into two. Half are on my side, dear teacher And the other half believe you. Out of the blue, the bell rings For once the students want more time! A pat on the back for the English teacher. This victory is both hers and mine So what if she gets it wrong sometimes? So what what if she's too dramatic? Sometimes she's just unreasonable She's your average literature fanatic She always gets her point across Without having to scream and shout She teaches the students the value of words Isn't that what it's all about?
Continue reading...
56
I'm speechless That's my approach as you approach me And usually I'm too focused on finding the perfect words To penetrate the simple space I provide So when beautiful girls intentionally invade my atmosphere My need for speech is satisfied Your beauty speaks sufficiently for two So while I'm struggling for oxygen, I hope you recognize Your presence is all I've ever needed to breathe easily I'm stuck Between unexpressed elegance And helplessness My mouth is screaming out But frozen completely shut I'm worried my compliments May be complications That my suggestions Might suppress my objective here We typically rely on our words To settle the score As if you and I are in overtime Of a tie ballgame Looking for phrases to frame the scoreboard With an absolute victor But I was hoping that you'd be willing to join forces To break through the proverbial force field That prohibits rivals from overthrowing obstacles Because I've always believed the input overpowers the outcome What if it were possible To eliminate our speech So our ears could erase the need to draw conclusions We don't etch our words in pencil Our words are enunciated in permanent marker Brutally beating through our eardrums Rhythmically reminding us That silence can be more sweet sounding than any set of syllables All I know is I'm hell-bent on remaining a straight shooter My arrows will always be designed for the bulls-eye But lately I've been questioning my targets They haven't been painted red and white for all the world to see They've been camouflaged by constricted communication Secretly searching for statements that haven't met the airwaves yet So I'd much rather absorb your definite thoughts Than accept your remarks as absolute    The truth is I'm not sure What needs to be said. The syllables I've learned to form Don't apply to situations where Words remain inherently absent. And too often we force our hand To make phrases appear Where they don't belong. But something about Silent speeches is appealing to me. Because the power in your eyes reduce The need for any type of sound. And the shock waves your steps make As you inch closer to mine Create the sweetest melodies. So all I will tell you is this: Let's leave words out of this.
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Dec 19, 2013
Dec 19, 2013 at 6:53 AM UTC
Silent Speeches
I'm speechless That's my approach as you approach me And usually I'm too focused on finding the perfect words To penetrate the simple space I provide So when beautiful girls intentionally invade my atmosphere My need for speech is satisfied Your beauty speaks sufficiently for two So while I'm struggling for oxygen, I hope you recognize Your presence is all I've ever needed to breathe easily I'm stuck Between unexpressed elegance And helplessness My mouth is screaming out But frozen completely shut I'm worried my compliments May be complications That my suggestions Might suppress my objective here We typically rely on our words To settle the score As if you and I are in overtime Of a tie ballgame Looking for phrases to frame the scoreboard With an absolute victor But I was hoping that you'd be willing to join forces To break through the proverbial force field That prohibits rivals from overthrowing obstacles Because I've always believed the input overpowers the outcome What if it were possible To eliminate our speech So our ears could erase the need to draw conclusions We don't etch our words in pencil Our words are enunciated in permanent marker Brutally beating through our eardrums Rhythmically reminding us That silence can be more sweet sounding than any set of syllables All I know is I'm hell-bent on remaining a straight shooter My arrows will always be designed for the bulls-eye But lately I've been questioning my targets They haven't been painted red and white for all the world to see They've been camouflaged by constricted communication Secretly searching for statements that haven't met the airwaves yet So I'd much rather absorb your definite thoughts Than accept your remarks as absolute    The truth is I'm not sure What needs to be said. The syllables I've learned to form Don't apply to situations where Words remain inherently absent. And too often we force our hand To make phrases appear Where they don't belong. But something about Silent speeches is appealing to me. Because the power in your eyes reduce The need for any type of sound. And the shock waves your steps make As you inch closer to mine Create the sweetest melodies. So all I will tell you is this: Let's leave words out of this.
Continue reading...
62
With every beckoning move My power self destructed I stood among the audience With no outrageous opinions I performed as a harlequin Trying to dulcify my motives My torn pockets spilling sand The baptism of fire They said they were comrades But at that moment They enunciated My defeat Strenuously. I'm tired of seeing the wall break My cigarette stained hands yearn for demise
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Feb 9, 2014
Feb 9, 2014 at 8:43 AM UTC
Exhaustion
Verily the exordium told anent a beauty engirdled in her fedora soliciting those whoever descried her into her mere servile admirer eight trenchant tinctures upon her body invigorate like a cadenza I dare not to contradict the verity that I am beguiled afore her whilst the snain distilled faintly enwreathed her in unctuous silk concordantly she devote herself earnestly to the impeccable rain that emanate her fragile poetry with prestidigitation in a whisk forsooth she is but the vernacular sobriquet to the soul of the rain recall me otherwhile during the rainstorm champagne did coerce and the sunset's glass of wine exude her ingratiating persona like a myriad of aphrodisiac summarized in a single verse when harmony and lyrics danced in the crepuscular crescendo all of that needed to be enunciated is it is you do not harshly let me be thy unrequited dilettante
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Jul 15, 2013
Jul 15, 2013 at 4:27 AM UTC
Vernacular Sobriquet to the Soul of the Rain
refract |riˈfrakt| verb [ trans. ] (usu. be refracted) (of water, air, or glass) make (a ray of light) change direction when it enters at an angle : the rays of light are refracted by the material of the lens. ******* ash out of a little cardboard tube- what else would you have me do? Taxed gasps but not as heavily as my thoughts- it is brought to my attention that, perhaps I think too much. and focus too little. But as I’ve enunciated countless times before what it is I’m waiting for Refraction Would it be wise just to make it happen? Refraction Nothing ever came to be by accident Refraction Except when the sunlight shone and the wind did blow with capricious direction Refraction and then a human crawled from the cosmological wreckage absolutely ******* random Refraction I suppose it’s within my grasp to change my path If only I knew where I was headed Refraction
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Jan 14, 2013
Jan 14, 2013 at 11:59 PM UTC
this is not a poem about science
Wanted to get drunk today. WANTED TO WRITE TEN POEMS. None of this happened, but the postman brought letters. I opened them. Skin felt absent on the occipital lobe. Where amber, silica, sconce, crackle, glass exploded. Lifted pillow 'bove my head. Gravity took its power. Hold, sand shard dust and vase piece, in my bed. Wanted to sit in the park. WANTED TO MAKE TEN ******* POEMS. Needed a six foot tall model by my side, in the windy park in the sunlight. Children needed to dance around. Wanted to see them puke up happiness. On swingsets/marygorounds. Wanted to be their fathers. WANTED TO BEAT UP THEIR FATHERS POEMS. Wanted to the cops to catch me. Slaughter pigs, drink their blood. Wanted lost in wanting. WANTED TO BE BETWEEN HER LONG SOOTHING POEMS. Wanted to clutch pretty. Needed something like love... or like drunk. Needed to buy a forty today. NEEDED TO COUGH UP WORD THROAT. 80 will do. If you have the proof This didn’t happen. Instead, I Sat Inside And Choked On My Own Enunciated Emaciated Words. The poems never come out right anyways.
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Mar 24, 2013
Mar 24, 2013 at 9:41 PM UTC
What Happened on my Brain's Projector Screen
Expatriated.... silence swallows whole, enunciated expression: Fists pummel at an empty sky. A voiceless scream tears anaesthetised night. Who needs gravitas, what piety awards accolades; why strike a solemn clarion where dignity and virtue fail to roam, when last breathe approaches? How can we repatriate orphan, edulcerate elocution?
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Feb 8, 2015
Feb 8, 2015 at 4:36 AM UTC
orphaned pages
Our Holy Communion of Words you wrest my words away, with tongue and teeth, running their sounds out with your soft tonguing, gentling their enunciated freedom to float airborne, but not before, your teeth hone them sharper, wiser, better, before freeing the letters for life eternal rebirthing, swapping, warping words, into a a holy communion then with thy lips closing after them, wishing them godspeed, safe travels to yet another’s eye imbibing, until released once more, traveling from souls you likely never to meet, embrace, greet, but to whom you have formed a direct intangible tangling, shared wafered words, a holy communion But yours, your words, *gut punch me, how could you know, where/\were you there beside me when in darkened hours the sun shone brightly, illuminating with bent light our crevices and our crevasses, your, words, written, stun me into crazy, as if you were within my interior a cacophony exposed for all to hear, my grunts & oofs, visceral, too real, and my actual tears cascade unfiltered into the cup of our tangible entangling, salted & starry* our holiest communion yet! ~~~~~~~~ Fri Feb 9, 10:00pm~10:30pm
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Feb 10, 2024
Feb 10, 2024 at 7:59 AM UTC
Our Holy Communion of Words
Tired, too tired to think anymore mapping who's taking the bed and who's taking the floor when it's bedtime for one + one more I won't sleep easy on the other side of the door How many drinks was too many for him? Is she as drunk as he or merely attached to his hip? Why didn't I drink til my vision blurred so I wouldn't care to hang on every enunciated word Stuck on the tricycle, always the third wheel without an outlet to express the feelings that I feel I stow away behind my teeth the words I keep because I'm weak and wish I had the strength to speak, to know the change I seek The tension is seeping from my dead eyes and this endearing disguise will be all you will see
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Jan 31, 2014
Jan 31, 2014 at 4:33 PM UTC
Mild Mannered
Lizards sun, drag hours for themselves On the baked rock face, With tense hands prepared always To run, even in the face of bliss. Hands curve prematurely, Turn rock face into a more appealing Rock bodice, and the Lizards are cast away By the sudden **** of millennia. Do not litter the bettered stone With a dainty snowflake likeness Sought in the bedragglings of Their skeletons. What little ancestry to look back upon. It's probably better... No, absolutely it is. That is the cry of the valley: Massed voices weighted with spring And enunciated by winters. The sunrock bathes for Whoever knows how long, In drys And in humids. And then one day is crushed Underfoot by the hulking form, By the tense little claw of a Reckoning nomad. The surroundings look Sharp at the smart little giant And pull themselves neatly away from the dust.
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Feb 7, 2010
Feb 7, 2010 at 2:58 PM UTC
Fables
deeds eviscerated / clawing weakness sloppy cuts / willpower destructive present featureless thoughts enunciated / piercing sharpness sloppy cuts / likelihood delusive future unresolved feelings elongated / lasting bleakness sloppy cuts / sanity depleted memories absurd
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Jul 24, 2018
Jul 24, 2018 at 7:14 AM UTC
The Penultimate Attempt at Changing My Life for the Better
Dear Bryan, I love it when you Say my name With the knowledge that with your last it will never be the same Say my name And change my initials to fit yours a little better At least, one day, we’ll have one letter more in common Say my name And fulfill my dreams of being your queen You say comfort is king So In OUR california king bed I know you’ll do nothing less than make my cheeks red Blushing And sore Say my name And open the door to our future Every enunciated letter a step closer to our life together   Serenade me Sing me to our reality with the symphony of syllables leaving your luscious lips Love me like this is the first and last moment of our united consciousness Say my name Drive me crazy On this roadtrip of emotions Every border crossed and hotel room occupied a new chapter in our lives Every gallon of gas spent And motel room left New memories that we will never forget Say my name Don’t refrain from shouting it from the rooftops like you say you want to so badly One day they’ll be the mountaintops by our California home   Hold me While your vocal chords explode with the feelings I hold dear to my heart While I lay on your chest and hear yours beat Ba dum Ba dum Ba dum As if speaking in Morse code: I love you I love you I love you Translating this language has never been so easy One of the many tongues I want you to help me be fluent in Say my name In your oh so endearing voice Because I swear I have never heard it sound so melodious than when it’s coming from your mouth And if I’m lucky You’ll be the last one to whisper it in my ear, Like sweet nothings, For the rest of our lives. Love, Sarah Elizabeth Canalejo
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Apr 10, 2018
Apr 10, 2018 at 10:22 AM UTC
Bryan, my Love
Dear Bryan, I love it when you Say my name With the knowledge that with your last it will never be the same Say my name And change my initials to fit yours a little better At least, one day, we’ll have one letter more in common Say my name And fulfill my dreams of being your queen You say comfort is king So In OUR california king bed I know you’ll do nothing less than make my cheeks red Blushing And sore Say my name And open the door to our future Every enunciated letter a step closer to our life together   Serenade me Sing me to our reality with the symphony of syllables leaving your luscious lips Love me like this is the first and last moment of our united consciousness Say my name Drive me crazy On this roadtrip of emotions Every border crossed and hotel room occupied a new chapter in our lives Every gallon of gas spent And motel room left New memories that we will never forget Say my name Don’t refrain from shouting it from the rooftops like you say you want to so badly One day they’ll be the mountaintops by our California home   Hold me While your vocal chords explode with the feelings I hold dear to my heart While I lay on your chest and hear yours beat Ba dum Ba dum Ba dum As if speaking in Morse code: I love you I love you I love you Translating this language has never been so easy One of the many tongues I want you to help me be fluent in Say my name In your oh so endearing voice Because I swear I have never heard it sound so melodious than when it’s coming from your mouth And if I’m lucky You’ll be the last one to whisper it in my ear, Like sweet nothings, For the rest of our lives. Love, Sarah Elizabeth Canalejo
Continue reading...
53
HARD Issoft, nearly almost always to phalanges strung in distinct feminine howling striations pressed on all the everywhere of cobbled mucous enunciated with thick muscles bent on masculine bones packed slightly tight and i'm **** lungs bunching across the varied consistent folds of your open naked mouth that i sting in everfor a hideously beautyfull beAst
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Jan 29, 2011
Jan 29, 2011 at 2:19 PM UTC
hard is soft
hey i don't you remember the sea ? ido it was speaking little wet enormous. a tooth hey!don't i you?re a massive collapsing ocean deep perfect. the waves crack back an oblique smell of crying swollen. it,s a god's face; a bruise blushing on his cheeks maybe we taste the shore. it's gray enunciated sky impinging the dry with damp teeth. or the mountains thinking on the horizon: blotting truculence they stand so still
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Sep 27, 2010
Sep 27, 2010 at 11:58 AM UTC
hey i don't you
The weary vibrations expelled a name given to me by my mother. I heard the familar sound enunciated in contracting cords, summoned by the computational ***** fueled by the elemental product. Weve lost the way we made we started the program without knowing the coding. Mimic the mirrors sulled parallels, ghostly and thermodynamic the willow doth grow and visions wilt with the snow, the seasons dictation inside of your voice, syllable sounds of a name
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May 1, 2015
May 1, 2015 at 11:48 AM UTC
you called my name
A white worm rests in the netting of our hips. silk weaver weaving woven strands loose strings. fray the forever faceless groan enunciated in pleasure giddy writhing. little goddess you are like a song: playing in the empty void to singe my cusp and draw my stupid fingers to dumbly rumble over your *** a she so pearled sweaty sensual nodes gleaming dark. i take a measure of your effortless laughter and drink till my mind bursts bubbling onto the coffee tingle cold heat bridge erected over the electric notch of your fur stroke. do i do well by you?
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Jun 9, 2010
Jun 9, 2010 at 12:21 PM UTC
A white worm
The anonymous glances whispered that she's searching, for the sporadic faceless voices that divulged, my unsung secret sights and as they remained forever hidden, she let her silence make the noise in solitude, but when the spectral sun rays touched her soul, the feeling of life rose a controversy, that reciprocated "we'd be if we were meant to be"! The words now stood unheard,as they never owned a tongue, that spoke them out to her courageous cute little heart, And if ever comes a day to reveal, will there even remain any blind words, woven with all the love that was never visible to her deaf sights? If yes! Then who'd be carrying the love of my life, if I'm busy carrying her burning elegant thoughts to the grave?. I fell above the ocean floor,the clamor within enunciated, still feeling light through an enclosed door, I'll fight till its over and till I'm perforated, through the night and the rain, time and the pain, and until the sky fails to fall, I'll stand fighting fate forlorn, Because I'm cold just like the icy mountains, and yes I've a frozen heart, since I was struck behind the numbers, of your watch beneath your wrist. Maybe am the only man clung to your soul, dead and rotten in time.! -knownstranger❤ Www.ask.FM/krishnaprasad03
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Apr 18, 2016
Apr 18, 2016 at 10:33 AM UTC
Coherent chaos!
Say my name and I will disappear. I am the endless song that only the deaf can hear. Listen to my eternal depth as it echoes through the wind. Enunciated by the mute with no words to send. No man can keep me for a long period of time. Catch me for a second and next thing you know I'm gone. Even the most quiet moment can lose me when its done.
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Sep 11, 2017
Sep 11, 2017 at 12:58 AM UTC
SILENCE
This is but a test, one for A mind in need of rest, And though it's surely not his best, It still is nothing to detest He's drifting in a sea of intuition, His expression is abreast He's seeking for a resolution He hopes not in vain to jest He seeks the further involution Of this sense felt in his chest As he is wand'ring Through his contemplation, Pondering his expectations Seeking his elucidations; but Just where might these be found? Within the lines upon the page Or their enunciated sound? I don't have the answers to these questions...
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Jul 29, 2018
Jul 29, 2018 at 5:03 AM UTC
Two Hours to Sunrise
*a heartbreak is the open book of love's broken promises that by hook or crook we evade keeping, and sink in the quagmire of a misery enunciated by our moans someone must break your waxy heart to make you a true lover one day soon*
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Feb 26, 2016
Feb 26, 2016 at 5:00 PM UTC
heartbreak
lately, the anxiety keeps settling in my teeth, setting them on edge: an unwelcome guest spitting scornful jest to cause my brain to second guess every thought i thought wasn't a mess, exposing my mind -- a train wreck i scruff my tongue against them in the hopes of forcing the enamel clean but this apprehension's made of harder stuff that even molars couldn't crush; the muscles of my jaw clench their unhappiness, an endless throb of raw numbness, itching to be expelled through sound or sick or movement excuses to flee, suddenly, enunciated by the bitter desperation to expel what words fail to express; there's no sudden obligation, no needs to address. i'm just trying hard to outrun the foam of fruitless frets fizzing into overflow, stomach acid upset
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Mar 4, 2019
Mar 4, 2019 at 7:59 PM UTC
bite your tongue
an announcement was enunciated over the public address which carries a health message in its address listen up lads the address is directed towards you taking it on board would be a good I clue don't be coy or shy about your personal equipment the odd inspection of it can lead to enlightenment pull down the trousers and have a feel around the ball bag should there be any oddities there you could have problems in being a stag lads if you've had to visit the John several times at night those excessive twinkling sessions may well mean that the prostate isn't alright the ides of depression oft occur in a man's life which can be the cause of much mental strife men in our communities need to be alerted to the issue of their health as without a robust body and mind they are devoid of health's wealth make appointments with your GP's   so they can check you over for any anomalies
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May 30, 2014
May 30, 2014 at 7:18 PM UTC
Men's Health
drift pleasantly into the wafting glimmer the enunciated murmur of a purring simmer the tickling breath chilly spite of the victor's vigor the momentum upon present infatuations sought for the hands of the lost bridal remnant feet brushing the moistened soil milky coral china topple the path the splash of hotly brewed tea lavender and jasmine and lemon ginger seeping into the cool, hard ground feel the air swirl in your lungs the colors of the trees a respirator glinting their fiery embers they embark far into the silly autumn night cool blue shadows creep uphill stretching and lengthening for night's full bloom the hours have waned, the sun a lovely hue as the woes of nature have come down to hunt
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Aug 18, 2015
Aug 18, 2015 at 7:41 AM UTC
Autumn Days
A man sat in his cramped airline seat, His teeth chattering, Biting down on his haggard fingernails He had never flown before And he never planned on it But with the passing of a close relative He had to take his first flight from Philly Back to his hometown in Washington state. Next to him sat a young boy, who appeared to be much to young To be by himself on this 737 The man just turned away from the young mans face And went back to his nail biting The boy tapped the man on the shoulder, And he said "Sir, I know this is scary, but there's no need To be afraid I've done this a hundred thousand times Enough to know that we'll arrive Exactly thirteen minutes late." The man was stunned, this boy This... small man Enunciated his words like that of an Elder The man turned to him, and said "I'm sorry young man, I just can't help this My whole life I've been isolated, Closed off, like a shellfish" The boy turned his head from his window and he said "Sir, There's no need to fear the events that will unfurl, Because you know when the oyster opens up All that's revealed is the pearl." And suddenly, the man felt none of the fear He'd been living in for all these years He rested comfortably, no longer fighting tears His cycle was broken, the moment was chosen When he leant the child his ear
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Feb 10, 2015
Feb 10, 2015 at 8:44 AM UTC
The Man Who Was Afraid To Fly