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Jesse stillwater Jun 2018
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
Notes:   unstilted:  Adj. - flowing naturally and continuously

Thank you for listening to my 2 cents ...
We had a very happy conversation about family matters.

Mom, Dad. I’m OK.
They’ve been really honest with me
but they’re perfectly willing to die for what they’re doing.
And I want to get out of here
but the only way I’m going to
is if we do it their way.
And I just hope that you’ll do what they say
Dad
and just do it quickly.
I really am alright.
I just hope I can get back to everybody really soon.

My little girl.

Catherine and Randy gave impeccable dinner parties.

I am an Establishment person.

I am being held as a Prisoner of War
and not as anything else.
I mean I am being treated
in accordance with
international codes of war.
I’m not left alone, and I’m not just shoved off somewhere.
I mean, I am fine.

Also, since I am an example
and it’s really important
that everybody understand that
you know,
I am an example and a warning.

And so people should stop acting like I’m dead.

Mom should get out of her black dress,
that doesn’t help at all.
and just hurry.
Bye.

Patty honey I want you to know
that your father is doing everything in his power.
Millions of people all over the world are praying for you
I know it’s been a long time sweetheart
but keep up your courage
and you keep praying
pretty soon god will touch their hearts
and they’ll send you home.


Mom, Dad.
I've been hearing reports about the food program.
So far it sounds like you and your advisors
have managed to turn it into a real disaster.
Anyway, it certainly didn't sound like the kind of food
our family is used to eating.

I called him a couple of weeks ago and said,
Hey, Randy, let's play tennis.
We haven't played tennis in months
and he said
Gosh. I just can't. I'm busy.
I know he's got a lot on his mind,
But, I think he's pretty obsessed with this.


Mom, Dad.
Tell the poor and oppressed people of this nation
what the corporate state is about to do.
Warn Black and poor people
that they are about to be murdered
down to the last man, woman and child.
Tell the people,
Dad
that the removal of expendable excess,
the removal of unneeded people
has already started.

I have chosen to stay and fight.
I have been given the name Tania
after a comrade who fought alongside Che in Bolivia.
It is in the spirit of Tania that I say,
'Patria o Muerte, Venceremos.'

She was one of the prettiest young women south of the Mason‐Dixon line.

Q. Okay. As a matter of fact, when you got to 1827 Golden Gate, or this apartment on
Golden Gate, you were not being held in that closet all the time, were you?
A. Yes, I was.
Q. You were?
A. Yes.
Q. Was there a previous closet in which you were held?
A. Yes.

DEATH TO THE FASCIST INSECT THAT PREYS UPON THE LIFE OF THE PEOPLE

She is a winsome beauty and her sweetness of manner has endeared her to all who know her

Whatever happened to the real men in this world? Men like Clark Gable? No one would have carried off my daughter if there had been a real man there.

She was somewhat of a revolutionary savant.
We kidnapped a freak.
I think that she was spectacular.
At that point, it was against her will to go home.

Q. And you moved in a car, I take it?
A. Yes.
Q. Were you blindfolded?
A. Yes.
Q. And whose car was it, do you know?
A. I don’t know. I was put into a garbage can that was ******* and put in the trunk of the car.
Q. And then, was the garbage can taken into the apartment on Golden Gate when you arrived?
A. Yes.
Q. Were you in it?
A. Yes.
Q. And you were placed in a closet immediately, is that correct?
A. Yes.

I. She’s an amoral person
thought that the rules did not apply to her.
She lied to nuns at school
about her mother having cancer
in order to get out of an exam
engaged in ****** activity
at an early age
and experimented with drugs
such as LSD.

II. Velcro Theory defined the aimless, lost souls
such persons, he said, who float around
in an empty moral space
and then find stuck to them
the first random ideology they bump into.

III. She is a celebrity prisoner of war
but the other thing
is that listening to her voice
is kind of hypnotizing
and not at all unpleasant
she speaks in this whisper
the well-enunciated voice
that someone called
the rich girl’s voice
The eerie voice of an heiress
and it's hard not to admire her composure
considering the ordeal she just went through.

We didn't know whether we were looking at a live girl or a robot.

Greetings to the people.
This is Tania.
Gabi crouched low with her *** to the ground.
Perfect love and perfect hate reflected in stone cold eyes.
To shoot first and make sure the pig is dead before splitting.
I died in that fire on 54th Street,
but out of the ashes I was reborn.
I know what I have to do.

Catherine was mentally and physically exhausted after the kidnapping. No wonder she developed a drinking problem.

Q. Okay. And is it true, Miss Hearst,
that you in the presence of Thomas Mathews ejected a live round from the M-I
that you had near you
and inserted that in the clip,
and put the clip back in the weapon?
A. I don't recall, it is possible.
Q. It is possible you may have.
And did you, in fact, also at that time
load a couple of live rounds
into the chamber of a revolver, a pistol?
A. I don't recall.
Q. Did you give Bill Harris a pistol
in the presence a Tomas Mathews?
A. I don't recall.
Q. You don't recall?
A. No.

I’ll think of it all tomorrow—I can stand it then.

I think this has been extremely ******* her
She's what the kids call ‘spaced out.’
Her religion holds her together.
And when you talk to her,
you see reality escapes her.
All she can say is that people are
‘persecuting’ Patty.
That's the word she uses,
‘persecution.’
We all love Patty,
and God knows she's had a terrible time,
but the whole complexity of the situation
seems to escape Catherine.

You're being told this
so you'll understand why I was kidnapped.
The S.L.A. has declared
war against the Government
I'm telling you now why this happened
so that you'll know
so that you'll have
something to use,
the knowledge
to try to get me out of here.
Bye.

I’m the happiest mother in the whole world.

I hope that you'll make sure that they don't do anything else like that Oakland business.

Q. Do you recall you spoke those words, Miss Hearst?
A. Can I see the transcript?

I don't believe Patty's legal problems are that serious. After all, she's primarily a kidnap victim. She never went off and did anything of her own free will.

From the moment I was kidnapped,
they consistently attempted to
discredit the revolutionaries.
After the first communique was received,
the pigs reacted by hauling out the stress machines.
The machines indicated I was being tortured
and kept awake 24 hours a day.
I guess that all the pigs expected me
to keep my mouth shut,
but I was furious.
They put away their trickology for a while.
If you believe the media,
you'd think I was totally weird.
According to them, I never mean anything.

Catherine, while still blond and attractive, has aged around the corners of the eyes.

Greetings to the people,
this is Tania.
Our actions of April 15
forced the Corporate State
to help finance the revolution.
As for being brainwashed,
the idea is ridiculous beyond belief.
I am a soldier in the People's Army.

I am Tania and We are not fooling around.

What could have been a tremendous instrument for change—Patty's kidnapping—has failed, and their old attitudes toward life—I guess it's called ‘conservatism’—are back

The kids who went to public schools
were not the kind of people
we should have close associations with.
As a result, I spent twelve years
almost totally surrounded by young people
who were busily developing
ruling class aspirations.

She has nowhere to go,
as resulted in only a change of captors.
But at least now,
as long as society is her
captor,
she does not have to worry about being killed.
Freedom may be a more awesome
alternative
-- you are not here to decide that.
We have a framework,
the SLA predicted this trial.
If we can't break the chain
at some point in their predictions,
there are going to be other Patricia Hearsts,
the blueprint is plain,
it works

A year and a half after her kidnapping,
she's in the safe arms of the law.
So, what does she do?
Patty gives the revolutionary salute,
even when she's in handcuffs.
And when she's booked,
she's asked her occupation
and what does she say?
Urban guerilla.

Bailey, I just –
I don't know him,
you know,
like he just kind of drifts in
and you know,
says blah, blah, blah
and I just go,
oh,
okay.

It was never true that our objective was to reconvert her.

You can almost see how Patty couldn’t relate to her—you know, trying to be so self-righteous and so upright.

Well, I always knew
that the Lord was in my life,
kind of on my shoulder.
I started to stray off
I always knew His hand
was there to bring me back.
I got to the house,
put my bags down in the entry,
went right to the kitchen
and the first thought on my heart was
I need to hear Jesus.
I picked up that Bible
and started in Matthew 1:1.
For that whole five days
I read and cried
and read and cried.

In short order, she returned to being the Patty Hearst of Hillsborough, California, the heiress herself.

It's kind of fun because back then,
there's nothing else to do but paint your nails.
It's really exciting.
I have been crocheting now.
At least, my mother came in and she asked –
she had asked me,
about my hair,
you know,
like
can I change it back?
She asked if there was a beauty parlor.

Her eyes are,
for the most part,
downcast,
as if she were sharing a secret with
herself.

She’s such a devoted, old-fashioned Southern lady, that we just died watching her facade break. That hysteria wasn’t just grief that Patty was gone—it was guilt, you know, ‘What have I done wrong?’

I'm being treated in accordance
with the Geneva Convention
and one of the conditions being
that I am not being tried
for crimes which I'm not responsible for.
I'm here because
I'm a member of a ruling class family,
and I think you can begin to see the analogy.

She writes these dramatic
love letters to her boyfriend saying,
"I want to keep up the fight for the revolution."
And she wants to overthrow the government in America,
which she spells A-M-E-R-I-K-K-K-A.

Q. And you were reading a paper, were you not, when they were in the store?
A. Yes.
Q. And you looked up from that paper, did you not, and you saw that William Harris was being held on the ground by someone and being detained, isn’t that true?
A. Yes.
Q. And you picked up an automatic weapon and shot in the direction of Mel’s Sporting Goods Store?

OBJECTION

I have a really nice brown pantsuit.
Al got it.
He has really good taste.

Trish Tobin
is telling her
that she is about to head off to Switzerland
to go skiing for three weeks.
I mean,
so what you have
in this compressed circumstance
is the old life skiing in Switzerland
for three weeks,
and Patty is saying,
I've got a life now.
I've got a new life.

The Hearsts are really ramping up for this one.
He is a bright guy,
but in terms of just his manner and his dress,
you couldn't help but be struck by
how square he was.

Q: I've become conscious and can never go back to the life we had before." Do you recall saying those words?
A: I don’t recall seeing a transcript of that tape.

I have chosen to stay and fight.

She is still an uncommonly handsome woman, prettier in fact than any of her daughters.

It’s a miracle she survived at all.
The ordeal nearly killed me,
Mrs. Hearst once admitted and,
asked what sustained her,
she answers instantly: My religion.
Yet her victory over despair
sometimes seems more apparent than real.
After her divorce, she moved to Beverly Hills,
where she supported Catholic causes
and joined the Beverly Hills Garden Club.

I just want to tell you like, my politics are real different from way back when.
Obviously, right.

Q. Is it not true that you ejected
from your automatic weapon
a live round and placed into it
an additional clip?
A. I did not have an automatic weapon.
Q. You did not?
A. No.
Q. What type of weapon did you have?
A. It was an M-I carbine.

She’s a victim of thought control by terrorists. And all I can do is hope and pray that God will bring her home again.

She was de-programmed and de-radicalized,
returned to the persona
more similar to what she was
She was essentially brainwashed
by her side team and her lawyers.
By the time she walked into the courtroom,
nail polish,
nice pair of shoes,
very well dressed,
it was impressive.

I'm terribly happy. More happy than predacious.
Do you have any notion what you'll say to her when you see her?
I'll tell her I love her.
Are there questions that you want to ask her?
No questions in my mind.


I want to see my parents, and my sisters... I'm really happy to be going home.
Sonali Sethi Aug 2014
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?
I'm sure we've all at some point disagreed with our literature teachers! Honestly, sometimes I like to imagine that I'm a world famous poet and that my work if being discussed in a classroom somewhere. :D
Vernarth and his companions delighted in the company of the biosphere since he was in the Eclectic Spiritual Portal, and in this dimension only he could be. Later, they communicated only through his donkeys, when they wanted to send them messages or share with him, they mounted one of these equids and they could pass into this atmosphere of ultraviolet light that separated them. More than an egregious Pythagorean calculation, he already stood out in his eon of matter-spiritual energy Vernacentricus, as a quantum station of the geodesy of the Megaron that has already begun to be built. At this precious moment the secular and demiurge satellites of him arrive, they came with the foundation of the points to refer to definitively raise the Ultramundis Vernacentricus. From the Vóreios or boreal the apocalypse of San Juan will be intertestamental with the canons of Zefian that transmigrated from the powers from the transversal valleys of the Horcondising, essentially following the sensory track of the Nothofagus Obliqua to attract the iterated populations of the forest.
The patriarchs and the orthodox mountain range appeared in the cords of the fungi called Ambrosiella ceratocystidaceae, to provide the Ambrosia Mercurial, as a nutritional addition to the main pilasters of the temple, with great influence of fungal fungi. Everything was beginning to demarcate from the eruv of the Zefian arrow that was named Tetarto Vélos, or fourth arrow that was already beginning with its culminating operation with the borer beetles, demarcating the urev of the Vóreios throughout the region and on the oaks of Patmos, that began to be located from the Meli Witran Mapu Mapuche winds, beginning with Pikún-kürüf Northwind with the first two arrows of the Taxotas, and Sur Waiwén, of the Pezhetairoi, of the quantum of transmigration of the Horcondising-Panhellenic sub-mythology. Then the Puelche drags the borer beetles with more force to lift the uprising fungi of the Mandragoron by the eastern vertical, to culminate with the Lafkén-kürüf all attached to the axis that supports them from this great bilocation. The boreal is demarcated, so that the Necromancer Ezpatkul with his Augrum and gold teeth, twisted the tendency of the beetles to move the main columns of the frontispiece, being colossal in reality with twice the diameter of the central ones. Then the conclusive and posterior ones of the rectangular quadrant of the Beit Hamikdash were bilocated, to bilocate the Bern Olive Trees from Gethsemane so that they finally joined the Meltemi, and towards the aeolian winds of Tramontane Eolionimia falling on the Tekhelet of Paul of Tarsus, dropping relevant heights of some cranes with gravitating silt on their extremities, and with garbeas that were secondarily colonized on the banks of the desert areas of the rocky Hamada. As was previously proverbial, three birds climbed reflecting the crown of the kings in Bethlehem, Arriving at the sacred native city, and beginning the choirs of Nativity and passion for the hiss in tenuity on the twelve Giant Camels, where they paid special attention to rebuild another temple with a sigh greater than a Sheba Dean. The canon of Policleto was renewed with Zefian who agreed with San Juan, for this kanon that will be the relevant line of topographic surveying. Thus the basal measurements of the golden number will begin with the acroteria concerted summer seats of prosperity next to the Metopes. Ezpatkul would bring with his magic the red blood cells of Betelgeuse along Leiak with all the Templar three-dimensional morphology, naming this singular parapsychology of Pope Urban II who proclaimed the First Crusade at the Council of Clermont, in France, on November 27, 1095, to delineate the paradigm in the anatomy of Gaugamela bled into Vernarth's breastplate, as the archaic and first crusade that would inspire Christian supremacy, which was already anticipated before the Christian era to come. It will be visible gestures of the trajectory of the arrows of the Zefian Torah that were deposited with their hallelujahs from the ***** of Crete. The sulfur yellow and red blood cells marked the radiosity of the Eclectic Portal that opened to give Vernarth material egress, so he would take his tools and go with his donkey's escorts for the chromatic that will be sulfur yellow and red blood cells, both dependent on the complementation with the Cinnabar, and in the raised bodies of Court V of the Helleniká Necropolis in Kímolos.

Under vileness or absence of light among darkness or apocryphal light of Evil, in contrast to the robust equanimity of light and shadow partisan of Saint John the Apostle, for the hegemonic good of his incorruptible vision. The naturalness made the world apologetic with the immune defenses of the polish textures, they invoiced proportional mathematical measures ibidem of the Hommo Novis, and of the Geometric Pythagoreanism for a body seven and a half times of Polykleitos, starting from the base to the feet as the base of the plinth or frieze until reaching near the capital that exemplifies the chin, before reaching the cornice, highlighting the figure of the capital with the front of the proportional ligament between the trunk, and the columns duly. Here the seven-headed Kanon of a David would recite the measures of the psalms, or beads in degrees with hoped-for dimensions. The kinetics was earth towed by towing carts in tetra bronze arrows, which balanced the unbalanced balance and harmony of the created whole. The symmetry of the transverse poles was muscled to make kinetic centripetal in the inertia of the bolt when hitting the faint glow of the canon rays. Making himself the sustenance in the stone and the mound, towards the Vernarth counterpose when the Himathion was tried, he appeared disguised and in composing. After this initial task, they approached the fire and scalding water to **** herbs, which pretended to be the formula of the backhoe extracted from the palimpsest of the generals of Alexander the Great, when they distributed their illegitimate Ark with royal titles; they were Perdiccas, Antipater, Crátero, Eumenes de Cardia, and others like the satraps who came to be enunciated as kings; Antigonus, Ptolemy, and Seleucus. Residing only the most substantial military colleague of them in this parapsychological saga Vernarth; and his brother Etréstles de Kalavrita who seconded and predestined him in his monolithic, and in the constituent sovereignty of Polis, for the purpose of reigning and raising his Kopis and Xifos intertwined in aldehyde manumissions and in the alcoholic carbonyl residues emanated from the Backhoe ferment and Nepenthe, depositing LSD in substantial amounts to align itself with Seleucus, and materially present itself in the sphere of Patmos as two representatives of both empires, one ancient Christian and the other Panhellenic, placing Seleucus in that totalitarianism over that of Alexander the Great, now extinct. On the last day after working and being satisfied with the construction work of the frontispiece, and its major columns, Vernarth joins them after temporarily leaving the eclectic portal, they sit by the fire to review the plans of the subsequent construction process del Megaron, along with his seven donkeys, mentioning Borker's necromancy. Since the omens of Wontehlimar, the linemen before Borker became reigning, for the static balustrade that will surround the Megaron, where all the Ibics rings were enlisted chorally by the patronage of the Hellenic Orthodox legacy of Alexander the Great after he was rescued by Wonthelimar from Babylon, and finally take you to your physical and spiritual shelter. The eruv of the Nótos was demarcated, surpassing the limits of the rings of stefánes Íbix, or Hoops of ibix, like nano kvantikoí daktýlioi, Nano-Quantum Ring auguring sensitize the dermis and its carpal phalanges. From the intertestamental, such as in Vóreios, passages from the Old Testament are explored here that says…: “The temple that was the only legitimate sanctuary of the Israelite people contained within it the Ark of the Covenant, a golden altar, and candlesticks of the same metal. , a table with sacred loaves and other utensils used to carry out the worship of the god Yahveh. It was located on the esplanade of Mount Moriá, in the city of Jerusalem, possibly where the Dome of the Rock and the Al-Aqsa Mosque are located. From this dome the larnax of the Great Macedonian, a prioris, the schismatics of ancient Christianity, and orthodox Judaic will be derived, separating from each other, after the fall of the second temple. Of this class and previously this was detonated due to the undivided troops of the Babylonian king Nebuchadnezzar II, who destroyed it in 586 BC, also taking captives a large part of the inhabitants of the Kingdom of Judah, to Mesopotamia, giving rise to the exile and captivity of the Hebrews in Babylon. A reflective Borker of this premonition, he takes the Ibics Rings and selects one of them to join them with the first Zefian Arrow, as nano Kvantikoí Daktýlioi, quantum Nano-ring, to ensue in future similar events, avoiding invasions that cause looting and destruction. of the temple to be built on Patmos.

Nano-scales for Borker's nanotechnological conception, and estimates of threats of invasions and climatic changes, in one billion (109) and one billionth (10-9). In a meter there are one billion nanometers or, in other words, a nanometer is one-billionth of a meter. For those who will have to configure the dimensions of the Mandragoron "Temple of Vernarth" with carbon atoms, the support will be made in chemical units for the re-conception of nature, and its two- or three-dimensional networks. The nanotubes with 60 carbons, distributed in 20 hexagons and 12 pentagons, according to the geometric patterns of the cellular scale, in the conformation of the Hexagonal Primogeniture, being in this way concealed by the Ibics Rings, for each linear meter and cubic, traced by a nanometer which is one-billionth of a meter. Here, the borer beetles will catch the fungi ambrosiella ceratocystidaceae and will displace the virals that move geometrically from the beams of the Icosahedron.

The ranks of Falangists moved triangularly in multiple directions, to reach the Austral del Nótos de Borker, thus they would form the magic vectors of the polyhedron internally, triangulating at the top of the ram that carries an illustrious triangular phalanx, opening up the areas with its prop. vulnerable, to consolidate the buttress of the façade; the Áullos Kósmos, and pay homage to the apse that was filled with rejoicing. Sones of the philosopher Plato, made them regular or perfect in convex polyhedra, such that on all their faces were regular and equal polygons were made, and in all solid angles also equal. From this boulevard, the theology of Vernarth and Alexander the Great, fully professor and Platonic guide, will follow, making nomenclatures of nanostructures that affirm the volume and structure of the central sections of the radier, and their foundation bases shielded by the icosahedron in the nanotechnological scale, having physical material cells, for adaptation of structural changes and their environment.

The volume will be adapted microscopically, to analyze small particles with the return of the fourth arrow or Tetra Sagita of Zefian, absorbing nutrients and discarding the environmental threats based on carbon dioxide, to make a limiting membrane beauty, which moderates the nanoparticles that borer beetles were developing. The solidity of the partitions and walls will have the exact proportion of the nanomaterials, to adapt to the general area of the Mandragoron Nótos, which will ooze the surpluses due to the porosities, towards a volume highly resistant to invasions of limestone nanomaterials, and boulders that are made from the flow of the buttress of the apse that rises towards Aorion. The interior and exterior faces will be supplements of prayers of Prochoro, in didactics that will shield with the Antiphons Benedictus, and the hive of Plato's Icosahedron, becoming a consular material organism, and solid in interstices or leftovers from the feces of the Borers, until pasting and to reach the volume of the polyhedron, and its twenty faces pointing towards the physiognomy of the boulevard, tracing the general volume of the Mandragoron, and intercommunicating the quantum support and its theological harmony.

Says Borker: “if the organic cells operate with homage and with greater multicellular fields, here are the nanoparticles, in greater fields of fiatto, and in the slides that will recirculate in favor of the throat of the Mandragoron, and in the carbon nanotubes, essential elements of the biosphere and in useful layers of life that retrace the rest. There will be 20 linear meters in the area that lavishes the width and height, the projection of this scale of nanotechnology, will make the three-dimensional shape and a large voluminous serial in the Austral Nótos ”Vernarth's purging dimension, made him materialize at times and laugh out loud because he knew that everyone who was with him loved him! and from this fraction of faith, the Angel Raphael diagnoses them bread with archangelic essence; herb with great healing powers, especially in the dimension of the eclectic portal that allowed Vernarth to concern himself with material living beings.

Definitely, the second step of consolidation of the Megaron was established in the linear that the seven donkeys eagerly left, as masons and cabinetmakers who worked together with the Hexagonal Primogeniture. From this moment everything begins to have an inter-dimensional aspect, from the Invisible Eclectic Portal to the majestic geodesy and orography of this temple, which incorporated everyone for a charitable epiphany together with everyone in the Profitis Ilias, which was already crowned as the cusp Spiritual World of the Vernarthian Eclectic.
Áullos Kósmos
Nat Lipstadt Oct 2013
Created June 1st, 2011

I am not gay.
I am not straight.
I am not curved,
or warped or woofed
I am bent, cylindrical,
a burnt human.

but not weak, nah!

tempered stronger than
furnaced scarred,
hard-stained steel,
a fire shaped child of El.

The sum of,
the product of,
the multiple divisions of:

my hard-on
experiential, existential
hand to hand
combat learning,
life's red copper burnishing,
and my very own
genetic, tantric
commanded tablets,
my natural earnings,

and I guess I am just like
{you, man}


obedient factotum to the
twists and turns of the
curve ***** and spitters
life pitches at my head,
that end up as
body blows.

multiple contusions outside
worn with pride inside,
I award myself a
medal of honor,
and elect myself,
Most Valuable Person,
an All Star of David,
for having survived
one more battle scarred
game day,

and I guess I am just like
{you, man}


when I awake,
in the raceway courses
of my veins,
the speedways to my
heart and brain,
runs the bitter herbs taste
of fear of how
I shall yet again,
earn this day,
my body's keep and shelter,
earn some table scraps of
peace of mind,
that I may lay
myself down to sleep
if ever so briefly,

and I guess I am just like
{you, man}


When I prowl the mid of night,
the fever of combat fear,
my skin sears,
and there is no narcotic
that anesthetizes
even surficial  
the anxiety,
the ailment of
melancholia
that hallmarks my soul,
the overflow of which
spills over the ****
of my vocabulary

So every new day
is a new year,
and I start the diet
of my soul
yet again

and I guess I am just like
{you, man}


Once I was a soldier
who wore the
black and white stripes
of the uniform that stretches
to the four corners
of the world.

I used to sway to the R&B;
of someone else's tunes,
prostrate fell to my knees
speaking someone
else's words,
touched my forehead
to the ground.

but the melancholia that
sterling hallmarks my soul
never disappeared and
renewal was a gift
denied and refuted,
by the lack of clarity
to which I was not
part and parcel

and l guess I am just like
{you, man}


Took a new oath,
swore allegiance
to the alliance of
I don't give a ****
and acceptance of
the infection of
flawed humanity
inside of me
lies buried in the
permafrost of my mind,

So every new day
is a new year,
and I start the diet
of my soul,
yet again

The first new words
daily uttered,
chanted with vehemence
of an out loud prayer
to no one but we two,
me and you, man,
unashamedly clear and enunciated
not mumbled,
not muttered,
seven parts blessing,
three parts curse,
are these words.

l guess,
I am just like
{you, man}


Found and founded a brotherhood of me and
{you, man},
one mantra,
you and I are just alike,
now we have a new
holy romantic empire,
we are human
{you, man}
slaves to
nothing,
no one
but each other.
How I used to write...when I was....
Ian Cairns Dec 2013
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.
Mahima Gupta Feb 2014
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
Holy Clown Jul 2013
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
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
Lendon Partain Mar 2013
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.
Roberta Day Jan 2014
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
although the election results,
(and his imprimatur dissolving, fading, receding,
et cetera now ranks as old news,
i still feel that adulation beckons cheers

defying odds to win the hearts and minds
aside from this one voter who cast his vote
for a (as he calls himself "mutt" of mongrel -
with no insinuation for denigration)

toward a biracial mortal male who epitomizes
that je nais sais quois ambition du jour
to tackle the multitude of local
and/or global challenges
with his prized defensive team.

no doubt he probably already composed
some rough draft per his inaugural address
(or yours - eminent president elect
if ye happen to be perusing the contents
of this email) will address the outstanding crisis

that confront the home turf
and international world stage
populated with tough rooted quandaries,
which hardly allows, enables
and provides for mushroom to err.

rather than fritter critical and valuable time
to blame or fear for the prior
republican administration
that could be held accountable
for the current morass, i reckon

that tis prudent to expend
the precious sands of time to ameliorate
those most serious issues without resorting
to fear, which machiavellian technique
this admirer begs to differ.

aside from begging to differ
with your philosophy to affect guilt
in other (as like an invisible ****),
the paradigm presented promulgated
(in prestigious media resources)

pleases this papa of deux daughters,
which principles of the first
african american occupant of the white house
brings solace within this spirit.

no matter mind boggling and overwhelming lesions
seem to witness this two hundred quarter
plus democratic experiment to hemorrhage
and require emergency action,

i feel reassured that resuscitation
of this body politick will recover
and become restored to vibrant health
thru the confident intervention thru diligence,

intelligence, ordinance, et cetera of (emma)
eminence filled pride without prejudice,
sense and sensibility to become like
some wunderkind in the oval office.

even now (about one month or less)
when that oath taken to heart to uphold
the covenant of life, liberty
and the pursuit of happiness

(as attempted to be codified by founding fathers
of this country - i.e. these united states of america)
stunned disbelief still abounds
within my liberal filled conscience,

yet excited at the prospect
one young(ish) noble representative
of **** sapiens exhibits
much esteemed aura, charisma, dogma,

and persona so pertinent at this juncture
in the history of fifty states who weathered
(yet survived) dramas that nearly rent asunder
the very fabric of this amazing society.

unbeknownst to anyone such as dumbledorf,
estimable magicians with awesome powers
of prestidigitation, j.k. rowling, santa claus,
seers, soothsayers, the wizard of oz, tooth fairy),

la de da to forecast if thine indomitable agility,
civility, electricity, gentility, integrity,
et cetera will be effective to deliver
superhuman feats of accomplishments.

this audacity of hope (telepathically communicated
from dreams of my widower father and late mother)
blessedly delivered some capacity of genuine faith
that seems hinged on the evident decency enunciated

(time and again - ever since ye took
to the campaign trail and now amazingly finds
one gracious honoree to guide the populace at large)
to offer deliverance and salvation.

AMERICA IN DIRE NEED OF A STATESMAN
WITH HIS CALIBER, FIRE RE: ELOQUENCE, AND HUMILITY!
Nat Lipstadt Feb 10
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
inspired by Audra McDonald,
this poem came in a single short breath i taken,,
and left just as quickly
single, speedy insight
Cody Edwards Feb 2010
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.
© Cody Edwards 2010
PK Wakefield Jan 2011
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
Markus Russin Jul 2018
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
PK Wakefield Sep 2010
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
Sarah Elizabeth Apr 2018
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
Falling for you has been seamless, and simple. Yet lovely, and complex.
PK Wakefield Jun 2010
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?
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
from high above the clouds billions of raindrops
shapeshift in free fall weightless collective vertigo
moonlight's glow casts a shimmer on the screen
blink-and-you'll-miss-it stabs of lightning
slash holes in dark clouds that reconnect with
the exhilarating, damning clash of God's displeasure
deafening earth-shaking thunder one after the other
I turn my music down so I can hear the din
all the windows in this hail-washed house have drapes drawn apart, shades rolled up
so I can watch the majestic display and pray
for a tornado to swing by just close enough
for me to gaze at but so faraway as to assure no damage to my observatory

these storms call to mind
secrets, reminisces surprising, in their own personal way terrifying

knew a dude in high school
found out too late he was the go-to man for controlled substances in those days
this kind of weather would send him to the phone
dialing Rhonda's number and she knew exactly what the call was about
the wind that swirled 'round the eye told her
she hit the ignition in the cute cherry red Ford truck he'd given her and braved the storm until she made it to his house

maybe it was an adolescent power trip
the sensation he felt through his ***** when the thunder spoke
then when it screamed he ******
she melted, the explosive crash drowning out the involuntary gasp which escaped through clinched teeth, the precursor to secret tears she seemed to have no control over
pitch dark, intermittent lightning strikes to illuminate the Storm King sprawled out beneath her, the look of aroused determination on his face growing more elastic with the clatter of hailstones on glass windows

I never knew about the drugs, didn't need them then, though I sorely need them now
but I knew he called Rhonda every time weather turned severe
the talk amongst peers was that the two of them were never seen together in an underground shelter no matter how bad the moon may have risen
Nudge nudge wink wink a nods as good as a wink to a blind horse say no more, squire, say no more!

I envied them
I broke cheap champagne glasses when the storm came and used them
to carve snaking tendrils across my wrists
barely any blood shed but scared the *******out of that witch my dad married after mom left
it was my failsafe procedure to assure at least another month away from them
yes, the mental hospital was preferable

the rain fell ******* the Doctor's house
weatherman said tornadoes were inevitable
flipped a switch in my brain, activated a mean streak
Doctor's favorite was insufferable
brewed a gallon of sweet tea every day and drank every drop
I saw lightnin on the horizon but that Big Bad Bear with the gun he stole from the Doc was nowhere to be found
I'd be leaving soon
I took out the gallon pitcher from the refrigerator
not even cold yet
unzipped my too-tight jeans
hung my spout over the edge and turned the beverage into 1/2 sweet tea & 1/2 cloudy dark yellow *****
placed it back in the fridge and waited

sat with him that night, playing guitar, singing incomprehensible songs, watching him drink that **** tea and possessed by just enough evil to laugh
in a ridiculously high pitch and enunciated to where I knew he couldn't understand what I was saying...
I sang
"****** in yer tea you know I ****** in your tea
aren't you so ******* at me?"
he never found out, else I probably would not be here to tell the tale

I had my excuses
broken and discarded
I was lost
toyed with the idea of being a Satanist
still lost
standing outside in the middle of an electrical storm
yes, I'm afraid
I'm told family members have been killed by a well-placed bolt and if it's good enough for them
by God
it's good enough for me
rain baptizes me, too stupid to come in out of it
the thunder makes me **** and shudder
lightning a brilliant fireworks show surpassing the best available powder and fire variety
I have become part and parcel of this thunderstorm
wait only for the appointed bolt to impale me with it's rapier voltage
here he come swingin' I almost missed him what with his night-black get-up-camouflaged by the black night that tried to hide me from his sight
alas, foiled by too much lightning

voltage from the heavens
I could personally think of much worse
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.
david mungoshi Feb 2016
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
revisited and refined
Homunculus Jul 2018
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...
Ambiguity reigns supreme. Revision is imminent. Meanings are fickle things.
Known stranger Apr 2016
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
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
George Anthony Mar 2019
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
i need to escape this monotonous cycle and do something new to let my mind reset
Eriko Aug 2015
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
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
Learn a lesson. Fear is invalid. All psychosomatic
A voice that speaks
So everyone can here
Words that are enunciated properly
The messages are clear
One must take the words to heart
In order to make progress
Always step forward
Visualize being a success
Jessie Vislay Jan 2017
Missing you
to the sound of Sara Bareilles
streaming from the speakers of my car
that you sat in two days ago.

Feeling you
in the wind that plays with my hair,
aching for your touch
rather than wishing to be alone.

For the first time I miss you.
Not the aching I-need-you that I've felt before,
just the I-can-hear-you-on-the-wind,
the absence of your presence enunciated

By the trace of your airy fingertips in my hair
and the melody of your voice on the horizon
calling to me in the breeze,
singing to me in this song.

Your wispy presence brings me peace.
Your howling voice gives me rest,
and you're far right now,
but I can hear you in this car. In this song.
In the wind.
Waiting for me,
Just as you've always done.
Adam Mott Mar 2015
Do you know
What the flattering words did to me
Enunciated my flaws
Kneaded my subconscious
Abetted my fears

Do you understand
Any of what was said to me
Tundras of hurt
All coalesce under this foreign sky
I can hardly recall my own name or face
Though the same can be said for us all
The lucky few
noiredaises Dec 2015
The hands on the clock won't quit
two sticks push forward with an enunciated tick
Dotted lines round the edges marking seconds like graves
A life quite peculiar, suited only for the brave.

— The End —