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"envisaged" poems
A duality of elan vital, two people Spectres of emotion Intertwined by a fuselage of bruised skin & tendon Tissues become orbital, gushing towards grafts Helixes of snot, **** and lymph Boy & girl As they embrace the animating principle and eachother, they fuse A one piece tapestry adorned seamless with no hem, beginning or end Always was, always is Patiently turning to liquid as their being unzips Lying figures of runny makeup and genetic ***** Quintessence, a texture of synaptic potential Corpus Callosum An entirety of self, lost in imbued disintegration Theory of mind, looped & bound I will water the thought Roots envisaged in dystopian amygdala Piercing data packets with a frost-like intensity Forgetting our obsolescence moments ago A neuron dipped in nylon Theta waves and the non-euclidean crux of dissociation Ghosts in the machine, your macro god The sympathies of fractional distillation Digitised/assimilated unto the nanosphere Cold hands and brass backs galvanised in oscillated tears Commodified, sold out and bought Stretching, from purple, white and black slowly losing its colour, amorphous in shape brushed across a smudge, ambiguously chromatic Monetised flesh god An eternity bathed in starlight Cutting an incision in the sky to allow entropy Divided dimensions of energy Fleeting and intangible No longer a delirium of seperation All semantics become light As a rusted vehicle passes overhead And all the worlds questions fade out of existence Flutters of red tape and foregone growth of practice Sinew flayed, integrated towards information Our minds shared In circuits and resistors Photons and electrons We radiate
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Apr 1, 2014
Apr 1, 2014 at 10:49 AM UTC
The Miracle Of The Sun
A duality of elan vital, two people Spectres of emotion Intertwined by a fuselage of bruised skin & tendon Tissues become orbital, gushing towards grafts Helixes of snot, **** and lymph Boy & girl As they embrace the animating principle and eachother, they fuse A one piece tapestry adorned seamless with no hem, beginning or end Always was, always is Patiently turning to liquid as their being unzips Lying figures of runny makeup and genetic ***** Quintessence, a texture of synaptic potential Corpus Callosum An entirety of self, lost in imbued disintegration Theory of mind, looped & bound I will water the thought Roots envisaged in dystopian amygdala Piercing data packets with a frost-like intensity Forgetting our obsolescence moments ago A neuron dipped in nylon Theta waves and the non-euclidean crux of dissociation Ghosts in the machine, your macro god The sympathies of fractional distillation Digitised/assimilated unto the nanosphere Cold hands and brass backs galvanised in oscillated tears Commodified, sold out and bought Stretching, from purple, white and black slowly losing its colour, amorphous in shape brushed across a smudge, ambiguously chromatic Monetised flesh god An eternity bathed in starlight Cutting an incision in the sky to allow entropy Divided dimensions of energy Fleeting and intangible No longer a delirium of seperation All semantics become light As a rusted vehicle passes overhead And all the worlds questions fade out of existence Flutters of red tape and foregone growth of practice Sinew flayed, integrated towards information Our minds shared In circuits and resistors Photons and electrons We radiate
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44
Injustice! Posted by Olivia Kent on June 4, 2013 at 3:11pm View Blog Suffer not thy children, In a waiter service world of injustice, Nothingness in a world of tragic poverty, In a drizzle of tears, The children drown Emaciated children, Not smiling as they die, In world of war-craft, Dying, A little more each day, Not smiling as they should, Punished, Living in a punitive world of cruelty, Where craft of war is rife, Screams, Imagined in heads of strangers, Insanity, Piercing with horror, Ears sickened, By violent imagery envisaged, Emaciated child, *** bellied, Gaunt, Virtually lifeless, Dead before death, Snatches, Life blood vanished, Without request! There is no youthful exuberance on this face, Overjoyed, Delighted, I don't live in this place! Copywrite Livvi Kent 04/06/2013
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Jun 4, 2013
Jun 4, 2013 at 3:21 PM UTC
Injustice!
Caged in a prison, high on a hill, actions ensued but didn’t quite fit the bill Words of not-always transformed promises to forever, Side by side, naught to hide, despite the cloudy weather A friend, a rock, a ship almost wrecked was looking to dock Alone in the harbour, under the moonlight, Ashamed, The half-wreck shone bright for what it was famed. Tough stains were covered, remains left undiscovered to be smothered by another Heart still full of what was before, keen, loveful pursuers already knocking at the door Cabin wide open: “Ahoy mateys! Ahoy!” She soon set sail with the innocent boy. Tides were rolling on peacefully by, some of them were low tides but mainly they were high, When in need there was a shoulder upon which to cry And the girl thought the boy would help her get by. Way out at sea on a tropical isle the boy showed the girl daemons not seen in a while Opened her up and dove right in, illustrated the flaws of reacting to whims Open Broken Alone at sea, the boy turned his back as she fell to her knees Floundering, drowning, thrashing in the waves The girl succumbed to what her daemon craves Underwater tears remain unobserved A not-so-sly Fox spoke of acts undeserved An unsure girl, curled up, abashed Covered up the act and watched her daemon be tamed A ship in the darkness, a ship under the stars Saved the girl and craved the girl and hoped she knew right And Oh! How she flourished in this dependable new light “Love and peace, me mateys!”: a new reason to fight The boy on his island, soon to return, Will see that the shipwreck upon which they met, though not yet quite perfect Trawls the coast to find an isle of its own And though different to first-envisaged, Bristol shall be its home.
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Feb 20, 2013
Feb 20, 2013 at 11:27 AM UTC
The Shipwreck
Caged in a prison, high on a hill, actions ensued but didn’t quite fit the bill Words of not-always transformed promises to forever, Side by side, naught to hide, despite the cloudy weather A friend, a rock, a ship almost wrecked was looking to dock Alone in the harbour, under the moonlight, Ashamed, The half-wreck shone bright for what it was famed. Tough stains were covered, remains left undiscovered to be smothered by another Heart still full of what was before, keen, loveful pursuers already knocking at the door Cabin wide open: “Ahoy mateys! Ahoy!” She soon set sail with the innocent boy. Tides were rolling on peacefully by, some of them were low tides but mainly they were high, When in need there was a shoulder upon which to cry And the girl thought the boy would help her get by. Way out at sea on a tropical isle the boy showed the girl daemons not seen in a while Opened her up and dove right in, illustrated the flaws of reacting to whims Open Broken Alone at sea, the boy turned his back as she fell to her knees Floundering, drowning, thrashing in the waves The girl succumbed to what her daemon craves Underwater tears remain unobserved A not-so-sly Fox spoke of acts undeserved An unsure girl, curled up, abashed Covered up the act and watched her daemon be tamed A ship in the darkness, a ship under the stars Saved the girl and craved the girl and hoped she knew right And Oh! How she flourished in this dependable new light “Love and peace, me mateys!”: a new reason to fight The boy on his island, soon to return, Will see that the shipwreck upon which they met, though not yet quite perfect Trawls the coast to find an isle of its own And though different to first-envisaged, Bristol shall be its home.
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39
a tornado from the blue of unleashed amatory instincts, with a Kamasutra mind in full play, from the center, more inventive than the original; your sudden appearance in my orbit, after a while, for this intervention extraordinary had splendid consequences. hell, one never could have asked for more! Making me passionate beyond my tolerable limits with violence fashioned as love bites, wild play of nails on skin expanses, and other salacious techniques were as ever, your optionals-- worked on me like never before I reinvented myself as a natural in the art of complete merger- the yoga of mind and body the perfected art of Eros, exactly the way you envisaged the waves still madly erupt for you to take care, which ever way you like.
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Nov 8, 2011
Nov 8, 2011 at 11:07 AM UTC
a tornado unleashed on sensual waters
Clearly observing the wicked danger lurking within you… What a paradox to witness a change of benevolence ridiculed by your truth. If only you understood what it takes to genuinely smile, You could move mountains across those magnificent cerulean skies. Even after our unpleasant confrontations, so cruel and wry. You deliberately chose to dance around to a distinctive rhyme. Using your words of trickery, resembling a serpent hissing fear. You untiringly strived to strike fatal arrows through an artificial crack on my fortified shield. I gave you only one chance to earn my professional trust. Then you destroyed it with mendacities absconding from your Machiavellian filthy mouth. Candidly, after foreseeing your vile pestilence emerging from within. I erupted in an outburst of laughter to have ever believed in your skin of sin. Beware, you have revealed an irrevocable glitch that is deceitfully sly. It portrays tyranny and narrow mindedness, depreciating with every malicious try. Running cunningly through your veins oozing massive animosity in disguise. Have you not scrutinized the gruesome language intensely stimulated from your heinously gazing eyes? By: Michael M. De La Fuente
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Sep 3, 2014
Sep 3, 2014 at 11:38 PM UTC
Envisaged Impression
**With tears in my eyes, I will smile,** With the shadows perished by, I will be  the daylight, With those envisaged grievances, I will emanate fluorescence, **With sadness deep inside, I will rejoice,** With the appalling bruises on my skin, I will still be intact, **With shattered hope, I will remain steadfast,** With fulminations raining aside, I will stay afloat, With vehement reminiscences passed, I will protect and cherish, With love gone awry, I will gather the traces.
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Feb 17, 2015
Feb 17, 2015 at 4:11 AM UTC
For you, I will (collab with blythe)
Dedicated To My Loving Daughter SUZANNA CHRISTY On her 12th Birthday (08/09/2015) Days rolled on; moments of time trotted; Waters changed shapes; She walked with His Grace; smiled with His Mercy; grown with His Love. Eleven nautical miles she hath crossed; might be twisted with ebbs and tides; Yet His provident Arms have carried her in tender and glorious ways. I see her seated on the banks of the stately throne with scepter of innocence, My heart is thrilled with her mother’s heart of her child-like majesty Envisaged across the firmament with the rainbow colours within. Each of the rainbow shade dappled with Heaven’s Glory to glow. I have drawn her in the sky of my fancy with figures of speech in colours, She hath become a poem in my kingdom of poetry in pageantry. We’ve been dreaming of her splendor glowing in His Presence And pray unto Him no blemish shall taint her soul till the day. My heart perceived sweet smiles on her lips translated from her within: Every smile is His Blessing showered on her heart - gratitude to HIM. We planted a garden and ‘ve grown the seed of godliness to grow like His Son, Our hearts rejoice in the growth of the seed beside the sweet flow of His Love. She hath grown through lightning, storms, showers and withstood with His Grace, She’s been God’s Gift’ conferred on us late but in His time mystifying to mankind. It hath been His Eternal episode that she ought to be in our arms crawl. And God’s Gift is in His Image to grow in His Shade and fly under His Wings. We are instruments to lead her in the way of Eternity, and her soul is precious to Him. All have souls and all have Eternity, and have to choose His Son hung on the Cross; Yet earthly affinity hath no role to play in His Kingdom, for He is Spirit, And all His children ought to have His Image ever to reign in His Glory. We perceive Truth of Eternity on her child-like countenance each day. She hath stepped on the twelfth way of life and hath years to walk through. Our prayer unto Him is His Providence be showered on her soul till the time. She hath awakened us to share the Truth of Eternity in my simple verse.
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Sep 15, 2015
Sep 15, 2015 at 5:24 AM UTC
My Daughter's 12th Birthday!
Dedicated To My Loving Daughter SUZANNA CHRISTY On her 12th Birthday (08/09/2015) Days rolled on; moments of time trotted; Waters changed shapes; She walked with His Grace; smiled with His Mercy; grown with His Love. Eleven nautical miles she hath crossed; might be twisted with ebbs and tides; Yet His provident Arms have carried her in tender and glorious ways. I see her seated on the banks of the stately throne with scepter of innocence, My heart is thrilled with her mother’s heart of her child-like majesty Envisaged across the firmament with the rainbow colours within. Each of the rainbow shade dappled with Heaven’s Glory to glow. I have drawn her in the sky of my fancy with figures of speech in colours, She hath become a poem in my kingdom of poetry in pageantry. We’ve been dreaming of her splendor glowing in His Presence And pray unto Him no blemish shall taint her soul till the day. My heart perceived sweet smiles on her lips translated from her within: Every smile is His Blessing showered on her heart - gratitude to HIM. We planted a garden and ‘ve grown the seed of godliness to grow like His Son, Our hearts rejoice in the growth of the seed beside the sweet flow of His Love. She hath grown through lightning, storms, showers and withstood with His Grace, She’s been God’s Gift’ conferred on us late but in His time mystifying to mankind. It hath been His Eternal episode that she ought to be in our arms crawl. And God’s Gift is in His Image to grow in His Shade and fly under His Wings. We are instruments to lead her in the way of Eternity, and her soul is precious to Him. All have souls and all have Eternity, and have to choose His Son hung on the Cross; Yet earthly affinity hath no role to play in His Kingdom, for He is Spirit, And all His children ought to have His Image ever to reign in His Glory. We perceive Truth of Eternity on her child-like countenance each day. She hath stepped on the twelfth way of life and hath years to walk through. Our prayer unto Him is His Providence be showered on her soul till the time. She hath awakened us to share the Truth of Eternity in my simple verse.
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30
I should have thought, It would be easier, Somehow haha, It is neither here nor there, A coincidental chain of things, Setting in motion Something akin to, A dreamless day, A wooden sort of way Of going about, Cumbersome, Turtled, Thiking about, Nothing while, Fixing blye eyes, Analysing speech patterns A superior sense of spatial awareness Coupled with sartorial elegance, That could be counted in kilowatts, ***** is the incumbent ruler of a blank, Where are our chaperones? This is not the kind of party I had envisaged, A monster is as much as you allow it to be, So take me to solitude.
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Sep 6, 2018
Sep 6, 2018 at 10:54 AM UTC
Train journey
Hark the stalwarts bray a song to heavens far, to heavens seen, Gone the miserys who dwell in sordid tales of wrong. Now the thing interred is wrapped in joyous thoughts to preen, Of ***** substantial thigh pronounced and dancing eyes in song. *She who challenges the very ground you traipes upon each day & tread, She who walks with  angulation's undulations deftly spread, She who wears a tongue so sharp t'would slice a hand or dice a fruit She whose eyes would dance for thee, for thee to seek pursuit to root.* Hold that brilliant thought in cortexed fields of pain, my son For foreplay in the wildest scheme I've seen to date, has now begun, And should you bring the very shards of war upon me then Despite this death, with her envisaged, I shall rise to thrive again. Marshalg In vivid recall......of a very tall and particularly comely Irish ***** 7 November 2013
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Nov 6, 2013
Nov 6, 2013 at 4:06 PM UTC
The Apparition
1. Innocent birth destined for a ****** grave, Quick unplanned for exodus, Once frolicking before friends, Events to come, surprises to find, Now taken in spirit and soul, Toward creations living will never know, Crying spawn, Another lost, another torn, Eternal black is not hard to find, Young mind, I've seen death, Like an instant, Like a cruel pursuer, No reason, no justification, No right, Who writes this apt and confused thriller we call life, Monotonous pain and lies, Peering through the blood, Unseeing eyes, It's all crucifixion with a different face, Stalking us all, Hesitating, Waiting for the right second, The pounce of a tiger, The bite of a snake, The death of an angel. 2. Voices aloud in eternal consecration, In it's many forms, The advice of surprise is not enough to harvest safety, Among the prey, one of the children, Behind the fire, one of the seeds condemned to expire, Snatched from the light, Arrived to early to feel the wound, Disparately together with the truth, And envisaged no sacrifices, Reunited and peaceful, Quiet and relaxed, The death of a young life. ...............................
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Nov 5, 2009
Nov 5, 2009 at 7:36 PM UTC
In An Instant
Bedsit lights flicker floorboards  creak the night prolongs plans to see through the situation An envisaged train journey to Canterbury may just reawaken this side of reason realising clear thoughts   the richness of discourse  where I may visit some folk club summarise these my questions through a better door
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May 24, 2014
May 24, 2014 at 2:52 PM UTC
1974
I had always wanted to buy Martha Marzipan and to see her encased Vermilion diary so she could heal beneath. But she only succeeded   in filling her emptiness with joyful Psalm songs at a daffodil festival I always had envisaged lying with her in fields of oxeye daises under the cerulean blue of an early summer sky. My seeming wishes were granted, until she proceeded to  purloin such paradise by cutting her hair and daubing ash on her wrist. For she had previously lit a candle for her years made wise, believing only women suffered pain and I now realised,  no one could buy her.
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May 5, 2012
May 5, 2012 at 2:16 PM UTC
Martha's Song
she bought me more pens from zoos and amusement parks than I’ll ever need for miles of thoughts I’ve no time to travel envisaged a desert of white paper waiting for the sky to rain words turned to pros and verse, you are a writer dad she said in need of inspiration and this is all I have to give your fertile mind but she is wrong so wrong my inspiration is her my reason to carry on belief in what I do all the ink in the world could not express just how much I love her
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Apr 28, 2022
Apr 28, 2022 at 10:26 AM UTC
pen and ink
You were born in the mist Of a worldwide ****** war, Shielded in the town of Oxford No one would have known, Who came to light On a random winter’s day, And would have studied darkness To humanity’s bewilderment And science dismay. Who could have envisaged A modest run-of-the-mill boy, Having troubles reading would pass From studying clocks and radios To figure how they work, To later toy with physics Identify the laws, Of a universe beginning With a silent bang. A singularity unfolding Ever-expanding space, Projecting multiverse odds Stretching theories of strings, To unfathomable infinity Countless possibilities. I fell upon you by hazard Listening to your alas robotic voice, Notions of evanescence and chaos Information lost forevermore, In deep mystifying black holes Only to reach the end, Of an article explaining The genius you were recognised Even when you were wrong. Sustaining a verity You humbly would recant, Thirty years later tell the world Indeed energy survives and is returned, To cosmos under a radiation They now call by your name, For there are no “eternal prisons” Not in space nor in your wheelchair. Your alacrity showed humanity so By flying in a zero gravity zone, Defying the physics constraining your body An endless fervent hope, I dare Share with you. For one day To travel space and understand A theory encompassing all, Started studying cosmology All because of you.
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Mar 14, 2018
Mar 14, 2018 at 3:56 PM UTC
Missing Hawking
Envisaged realities Dangling before eyes Fading away Out of reach In pursuit of glory Teetering on the On the edge Of reason and insanity The long sharpened probe of fear The awakened dreamer Plummeting out of sight.
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Nov 6, 2014
Nov 6, 2014 at 4:53 PM UTC
Ebb
Suspended high on the Pendulum of volatile emotion As high as my horizon That of gravity Which knew not my name Discarded by the wings of mirth The carcass of my yesterday Collided with my tomorrow Tainting my dreams of splendour The dead hands that clung on The fragile shadow Ashamed of the light The chasm is endless A tidal wave of Endless murderous desire Drenched in vermilion Susceptible to ruin The rhythm of the heart Pounded Ever so thunderously Intensity Too profound to fathom A catapult into the unknown Deliciously so The year draws nigh Envisaged ends Remain unrealised Ready to roar Or maybe Just speak.
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Dec 31, 2014
Dec 31, 2014 at 2:19 PM UTC
Nigh
The honeysuckle regimented like  battalions of soldiers its scent carried  by the  wind's discretion, white flicks of impervious  cinder, a burning season whose sulphuric  palace left  no doubt the  high church of summer was descending, envisaged russett on one hand muddy grey like a chagrin, come to soon the expiration.
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Jul 20, 2013
Jul 20, 2013 at 6:22 PM UTC
Palpable Summer
That iridescent image I had known for years seen it in various guises and learnt its form by heart know its poetry from the classics under Grecian lights and when it appeared this time I delve to find its mind But it was for Papa that the birth of reason grew in a missive unspoken and a call enveloped later unfurled a whisper rose that urged, look after for me, I will soon be gone a king had spoken perchance to a chosen knight now obliged to obey the ode of times and fleeting sighing sights of the light-footed in rays of play the child of our times skips boundarys and forts maidens sing stories and the gallant forays in skirmishes abound a ringing promise hangs as a willow in wisp claims legacy unknown tempest swirls and sound in fury rules in chagrin and ardour a gamekeeper sees a ***** traipsing the trails of Tigers and lions the tipsy gypsy hears neither the troubadour nor the rites of Templars a mind envisaged was the shrunken bulb of shrubs and alien foliage Be it not a dirge or condemnations of seducing Westering gales banquets laid for differing tastes and jesters jest for mirth and frolics a wizened once reached out in wordless touch, a promise sailed forth In deep blue sea a mindful dolphin far from home turns and swims away......
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Jul 16, 2019
Jul 16, 2019 at 6:33 AM UTC
Tell me no secret, tell me no lies....
Her hand was young and open. A generosity of spirit in its loops and curves And in closing: 'with compliments' and her name 'Nina' I envisaged an x.
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Jun 12, 2015
Jun 12, 2015 at 11:41 AM UTC
Calligraphy
The wrath to come can never be imagined; Upon this present world the dark damnation That'll be visited cannot be envisaged, When the earth shall enter eternal liquidation. And no middle place for the soul of man, Either to heaven or to hell will it go For his deeds his own spirit shall scan: Condemning or acquitting him justly so.
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Jan 27, 2012
Jan 27, 2012 at 3:06 PM UTC
Middle Place
Singular Multi-angular Of divine dimensions Second to none Autonomous anatomy Fanatic fantasy Symmetric synthesis Baffling beauty Calibrated celebrity Decoded dress décor Ornate as if to incarnate Breathless breathtaking body Exuberant exterior Envisaged visage crystal clear Natural curvature Done with intricate care Exquisite lovely carving Touched etched inch by inch Exhibit chronicle of caliber Inquisitive audience Craving for radiance Static statue Dynamics of art Ecstatic spectacle The living example Of the astounding sculpture
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Oct 5, 2014
Oct 5, 2014 at 8:29 PM UTC
Singular
Singular Multi-angular Of divine dimensions Second to none Autonomous anatomy Fanatic fantasy Symmetric synthesis Baffling beauty Calibrated celebrity Decoded dress décor Ornate as if to incarnate Breathless breathtaking body Exuberant exterior Envisaged visage crystal clear Natural curvature Done with intricate care Exquisite lovely carving Touched etched inch by inch Exhibit chronicle of caliber Inquisitive audience Craving for radiance Static statue Dynamics of art Ecstatic spectacle The living example Of the astounding sculpture
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Feb 13, 2015
Feb 13, 2015 at 7:03 AM UTC
Singular