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"enwrap" poems
distraction contraptions i don't work right haven't enough reason to fight please distract me in your arms enwrap me when i can't sleep i'm up thinking and when i have you my thoughts fade from dark without you i'm in my own head screaming i wind up bleeding and not holding you but distraction contraptions ... you are the better distraction
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Oct 1, 2014
Oct 1, 2014 at 8:53 PM UTC
Distraction Contraptions
When by my solitary hearth I sit, And hateful thoughts enwrap my soul in gloom; When no fair dreams before my "mind's eye" flit, And the bare heath of life presents no bloom; Sweet Hope, ethereal balm upon me shed, And wave thy silver pinions o'er my head! Whene'er I wander, at the fall of night, Where woven boughs shut out the moon's bright ray, Should sad Despondency my musings fright, And frown, to drive fair Cheerfulness away, Peep with the moonbeams through the leafy roof, And keep that fiend Despondence far aloof! Should Disappointment, parent of Despair, Strive for her son to seize my careless heart; When, like a cloud, he sits upon the air, Preparing on his spell-bound prey to dart: Chase him away, sweet Hope, with visage bright, And fright him as the morning frightens night! Whene'er the fate of those I hold most dear Tells to my fearful breast a tale of sorrow, O bright-eyed Hope, my morbidfancy cheer; Let me awhile thy sweetest comforts borrow: Thy heaven-born radiance around me shed, And wave thy silver pinions o'er my head! Should e'er unhappy love my ***** pain, From cruel parents, or relentless fair; O let me think it is not quite in vain To sigh out sonnets to the midnight air! Sweet Hope, ethereal balm upon me shed, And wave thy silver pinions o'er my head! In the long vista of the years to roll, Let me not see our country's honour fade: O let me see our land retain her soul, Her pride, her freedom; and not freedom's shade. From thy bright eyes unusual brightness shed--- Beneath thy pinions canopy my head! Let me not see the patriot's high bequest, Great Liberty! how great in plain attire! With the base purple of a court oppress'd, Bowing her head, and ready to expire: But let me see thee stoop from heaven on wings That fill the skies with silver glitterings! And as, in sparkling majesty, a star Gilds the bright summit of some gloomy cloud; Brightening the half veil'd face of heaven afar: So, when dark thoughts my boding spirit shroud, Sweet Hope, celestial influence round me shed, Waving thy silver pinions o'er my head!
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1.7k
To Hope
When by my solitary hearth I sit, And hateful thoughts enwrap my soul in gloom; When no fair dreams before my "mind's eye" flit, And the bare heath of life presents no bloom; Sweet Hope, ethereal balm upon me shed, And wave thy silver pinions o'er my head! Whene'er I wander, at the fall of night, Where woven boughs shut out the moon's bright ray, Should sad Despondency my musings fright, And frown, to drive fair Cheerfulness away, Peep with the moonbeams through the leafy roof, And keep that fiend Despondence far aloof! Should Disappointment, parent of Despair, Strive for her son to seize my careless heart; When, like a cloud, he sits upon the air, Preparing on his spell-bound prey to dart: Chase him away, sweet Hope, with visage bright, And fright him as the morning frightens night! Whene'er the fate of those I hold most dear Tells to my fearful breast a tale of sorrow, O bright-eyed Hope, my morbidfancy cheer; Let me awhile thy sweetest comforts borrow: Thy heaven-born radiance around me shed, And wave thy silver pinions o'er my head! Should e'er unhappy love my ***** pain, From cruel parents, or relentless fair; O let me think it is not quite in vain To sigh out sonnets to the midnight air! Sweet Hope, ethereal balm upon me shed, And wave thy silver pinions o'er my head! In the long vista of the years to roll, Let me not see our country's honour fade: O let me see our land retain her soul, Her pride, her freedom; and not freedom's shade. From thy bright eyes unusual brightness shed--- Beneath thy pinions canopy my head! Let me not see the patriot's high bequest, Great Liberty! how great in plain attire! With the base purple of a court oppress'd, Bowing her head, and ready to expire: But let me see thee stoop from heaven on wings That fill the skies with silver glitterings! And as, in sparkling majesty, a star Gilds the bright summit of some gloomy cloud; Brightening the half veil'd face of heaven afar: So, when dark thoughts my boding spirit shroud, Sweet Hope, celestial influence round me shed, Waving thy silver pinions o'er my head!
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48
Native Agra, Mi amour' I've not yet met, For thou this soul is agnate to thy aura!!! The garden of eve awaits me, Makes me, To seeketh thy own splendid marble's men call eyes!!! From thine Lip's to thy mind, Thou brama of time, For today thou hast given me a smile... As that I dont see often!!!! Enwrap me in thy garden.. I promise I shalt not wander far, For you've enlarged mine heart, As our two spirit's I feel Burning on wings!!!! Mayeth I feel thy sting? Native of douce...
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Jun 1, 2015
Jun 1, 2015 at 8:29 AM UTC
Brodorol dramor ( foreign native) old welsh dialect...
*she Saturday early rises, water crossing all on her own, upon the all-white Menantic ferry, departing from her small isle of paradise, for it is the sabbath, she must worship with David, her Yogi *** rabbi muscles stretched and strained, forgotten was the degree of difficulty, attending to this yogi master's instruction, the hardship of obtaining body and mind, spiritual synchronization 90 minutes of serious mantras serially and seriously chanted, is tiring in ways I ken from the safety of my observation deck on the counter couch facing she keeps me company, after breakfast, amidst the white lace curtains sunroom surrounding the home on the bay succumbing to mine own chant, for with right hand cunning, I drug here with violin concertos in minor chords, one after another, pill she ingests before me now sleeps, she, her Lulu arms and hands enwrap her deep-sleep-bound eyes-in-her-head, fading in and out of semi-consciousness all-the-while I compose poem~mantras of my own, which she cannot hear so far away she has flown my mantras of love and affection, however do not dissipate, my chants forever repeating, for when she awakens, she will read this and many others, in her email inbox* so who is the yogi master now?
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Jun 20, 2015
Jun 20, 2015 at 12:28 PM UTC
I drugged her (a love poem)
Hear the call. Let the darkness enwrap you, entrap you. After all, Lost in silence, empty defiance, Is your soul. Let it scream in the darkness. Hear the call.
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Dec 12, 2020
Dec 12, 2020 at 1:21 PM UTC
Hear the Call
Seeds could not prosper without the love of your fingers what I know of soil and seeds, is less than nothing, the dirt neath my fingernails is only evidence of a presence on this Earth, but no rapport with the cold, damp earthy plains of   what feeds, colors and gives forth fruit and yet, you send this concretized city fella, pictures of the seeds on your agenda, the chosen ones that will in time, birth healing to the world in natural mystical ways, for what I see, what  I know is this:   *soil and rain, by themselves can bring forth both hardy and hardluck weeds that eke out a living home in a quarter inch of dirt in the in~between of sidewalk cracks, trod upon, but yet! survivors to the worst kind of human indifference* *but when you plant, you fingers enwrap, send coded message hid in the essential oils of human love, for that is what only certain hands can do…* *Your hands much practiced in this messaging, and peculiar kind of kind massaging for I have seen your gardens, moreover I-know, that hands such as yours overflow with both   the take and give, inherent in only certain specific humans, at a cellular level not in my possess* it takes a different kind of life experience, that marries different kinds of cloth into a single weave, that stores what is in your fingertips, nutrients of your life, singular, homemade, that make your botanicals fully blossom Jun 1 2024 12:50pm in the sunroom
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Jun 12, 2024
Jun 12, 2024 at 2:37 PM UTC
Seeds could not prosper without the love of your fingers
Other words for a sunset or evening piece how we enwrap-per, code our prayers, write our music, for the moments every eye shares, when sunset bids us bye in a Glorioso romantic contemplation when auteurs and nature bid us a colored scope for viewing thru which we may see our sweet dreams come from within the heavens, in one single language and weep with pleasure at this blessed unification ~~~~~ While "serenade" is the direct counterpart, other terms and literary forms evoke the sunset and evening, including: Nocturne: A musical piece inspired by the night, often romantic and contemplative. Vesper: A term for evening prayers or a song sung in the evening. Evening song: A general term for a song or poem composed for the evening.
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Oct 19, 2025
Oct 19, 2025 at 10:03 AM UTC
Sunset: per serenade , nocturne, Vesper, Evening Song
Most enchanted amongst souls, Once embraced by crystalline sunrays; Kissed by those luscious lips of moonlight, Walked amidst twinkling stars... Now this same soul spits out fury... Anger, enthroned in the altar of her ***** Rage, roared and pounced like a wildcat; Poison, brewed malicious vengeance... Still, this wounded but wild tempest... Her every raging storm, my whole must enwrap; Breathe again, my delight into this candlelight, Made wildfire by this windstorm of mine.
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May 20, 2016
May 20, 2016 at 7:09 AM UTC
Breathe Again
Winter has no cold lie the brief terror of life that seems endless the terror strikes from streets And paths once walked in joy now each house every board each window every angle states What was and never will be again nature will not allow a vacuum but lost- loved ones are the Holes and vacuum that honeycomb the human heart these are the shadows that the brightest Sun cannot abolish they visit in long walks or can come from the briefest encounter their Unprecedented power is evidenced in silence of chiseled granite over windswept hills and Fields nothing effect these monuments but the human heart alone through love can enwrap The Coldest stone making it melt by love’s glowing power the stone shimmers momentarily and Then is replaced by living memory that the coldest beast of all which is time has relentlessly Pursued until has drawn a high flame of youthful vigor down till it is but a feeble flame that the Smallest breeze extinguishes all leave a lasting mark and each in their own special way give Enduring power that goes a long way in the healing process God their most prominent Characteristics to veil the suffering one until the walk can be made alone for some it is the Power of their personality others their gentle sweet nature can even hold deaths pall at bay And still others the wonder they spin in common ordinary days come rushing in as swirling Waters that raise the soul and carry it to higher climes shadows call us to refection our loved Ones stand ever present to diffuse the harsh glaring light we hear their whispering voices they Are timeless reminders of life’s greatest good we gather these mortal treasures they continue To be our closest advisers and closest friends although they have ventured to the farthest Boundaries of our understanding our hearts will always be knit together by love the greatest Power known to mankind that is our unbreakable cord that binds us together yesterday today And for all the tomorrows O stillness that can hold heaviest burdens it displaces the most Contrary circumstances let us view our tomorrow the silence our escape walk the solitary Landscape tin the emptiest places you will find the rare that stands out in exquisite detail we Have shared the wonder of souls that have been strategically placed in our lives so that we Could reach our destiny and fulfillment go forth bravely and share the gifts they bestowed in Your life
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May 31, 2013
May 31, 2013 at 11:36 PM UTC
Shadows the life makes
Winter has no cold lie the brief terror of life that seems endless the terror strikes from streets And paths once walked in joy now each house every board each window every angle states What was and never will be again nature will not allow a vacuum but lost- loved ones are the Holes and vacuum that honeycomb the human heart these are the shadows that the brightest Sun cannot abolish they visit in long walks or can come from the briefest encounter their Unprecedented power is evidenced in silence of chiseled granite over windswept hills and Fields nothing effect these monuments but the human heart alone through love can enwrap The Coldest stone making it melt by love’s glowing power the stone shimmers momentarily and Then is replaced by living memory that the coldest beast of all which is time has relentlessly Pursued until has drawn a high flame of youthful vigor down till it is but a feeble flame that the Smallest breeze extinguishes all leave a lasting mark and each in their own special way give Enduring power that goes a long way in the healing process God their most prominent Characteristics to veil the suffering one until the walk can be made alone for some it is the Power of their personality others their gentle sweet nature can even hold deaths pall at bay And still others the wonder they spin in common ordinary days come rushing in as swirling Waters that raise the soul and carry it to higher climes shadows call us to refection our loved Ones stand ever present to diffuse the harsh glaring light we hear their whispering voices they Are timeless reminders of life’s greatest good we gather these mortal treasures they continue To be our closest advisers and closest friends although they have ventured to the farthest Boundaries of our understanding our hearts will always be knit together by love the greatest Power known to mankind that is our unbreakable cord that binds us together yesterday today And for all the tomorrows O stillness that can hold heaviest burdens it displaces the most Contrary circumstances let us view our tomorrow the silence our escape walk the solitary Landscape tin the emptiest places you will find the rare that stands out in exquisite detail we Have shared the wonder of souls that have been strategically placed in our lives so that we Could reach our destiny and fulfillment go forth bravely and share the gifts they bestowed in Your life
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27
And You told me, "He's like a girl." "Emotional." Then I was filled with so much rage that I wanted to reach through my computer screen. I wanted to possess the cords and wires, enwrap you in the fury of a thousand zettabytes exploding. This was my best friend? This was the man I love? I wanted to tell you, You are shameful. You are sexist. You are evil. But I told you, "That's offen--." And you said, "You're right. I was stupid. I didn't think. I'm sorry I ever thought it." I guess that why I'm still here.
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Sep 29, 2012
Sep 29, 2012 at 3:06 PM UTC
Like a Girl
Sweet love, if death’s black net my mind shall cover And drape with doubly twining nets my heart, Be not the one to weep and cry, dear lover For never shall I from your essence, part. When you shall to your chambered bed, retire, I shall bear my embalming pinions Above your crest, so that when you shall tire, You’ll safely roam in dream’s dominions. When you shall wake before the morning’s charms, And bear upon your brain, renewéd thought, I shall enwrap you with my tender arms, Although you’ll feel them as the air and not As mortal flesh, but some unearthly ether, For, love, in life and death we’ll stay together.
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Feb 11, 2014
Feb 11, 2014 at 8:53 PM UTC
To***
The pain rots and sheds, as it smoulders her bones and burns her skin third degree. Loss and jealousy enwrap her scorched heart into ashes, while lava flows off her tongue as it promises vengeance. She becomes a vortex of emotions engulfing her own life, dwelling in the merry go round thoughts. Until she picks up the pen and tucks the rage and ache within the 26 alphabets stringing words, to sentences to paragraphs. Ashes and embers stain the paper as they ebb, blot and flow, crafting the cathartic relief until the paper stains darker than the shades of her mind. The blues that would pour, become the budding flowers in her chest. She remodifies cobblestones into steppingstones, amplifying her narrative. She tosses the losses into words and crosses beyond the horizon. A candle flame burns deep inside her solar plexus as she transmogrifies the shards into a mosaic; the strings of the web she was entangled in weaved into embroidery to embellish her soul. The cries and lies, made her wise as she built from the same sorrows she was drowning in. She put her ache on cadence and turned up a brain wavelength. She finally found her salvation from abandonment a dive deep and wide into the depth of introspection pulling from the cronies and nooks the parts built and undiscovered. She armed herself with empathy fueled passion as she has burnt, learnt and learn to yearn the better while she steers forward with a transfigured mindset. For the people who came, now leave as poems.
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Aug 18, 2019
Aug 18, 2019 at 11:00 AM UTC
Morphed Pain
The pain rots and sheds, as it smoulders her bones and burns her skin third degree. Loss and jealousy enwrap her scorched heart into ashes, while lava flows off her tongue as it promises vengeance. She becomes a vortex of emotions engulfing her own life, dwelling in the merry go round thoughts. Until she picks up the pen and tucks the rage and ache within the 26 alphabets stringing words, to sentences to paragraphs. Ashes and embers stain the paper as they ebb, blot and flow, crafting the cathartic relief until the paper stains darker than the shades of her mind. The blues that would pour, become the budding flowers in her chest. She remodifies cobblestones into steppingstones, amplifying her narrative. She tosses the losses into words and crosses beyond the horizon. A candle flame burns deep inside her solar plexus as she transmogrifies the shards into a mosaic; the strings of the web she was entangled in weaved into embroidery to embellish her soul. The cries and lies, made her wise as she built from the same sorrows she was drowning in. She put her ache on cadence and turned up a brain wavelength. She finally found her salvation from abandonment a dive deep and wide into the depth of introspection pulling from the cronies and nooks the parts built and undiscovered. She armed herself with empathy fueled passion as she has burnt, learnt and learn to yearn the better while she steers forward with a transfigured mindset. For the people who came, now leave as poems.
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55
How can you leave my world in utter ignorance. You broke the firewall that linked to our resonance. Can you Comprehend the depth of my sadness? Do you understand why I'm sinking into madness? I digress I won't carry the weight. No. Not alone. Even if the whole world turns against  me. I will... Oh, good grief! I will crucify your fate. Slowly you will be trapped in my hands. Slowly you will finally come to understand. Why my world has dissolved into sand. Slowly Slowly Slowly Can you feel it? Deep within your trembly bones. The ugly sensation of what it feels like to be alone. Thank you for being my partner tonight. I will enwrap you with kisses that will come to your delight. Good night.
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Jun 6, 2018
Jun 6, 2018 at 1:01 AM UTC
Psychotic love
The crescent moon begins to peel back its veil. The hound howls at the slowly darkening horizon. The fog crawls out from the distant forest Like a spider approaching its prey. The cold slithers in from behind and snakes up your back. The fog creeps closer and the howls are a growing to crescendo. The cold begins to enwrap you in its coil. The voice within begs you to run and scream, But you're paralyzed from the shock of the scene. Your end arriving right before your eyes, You are bearing witness to your own demise. The stench of rot grows like a fungus. A shadow from the depths of the fog floats closer. A skinless hand reaches out and peels back its veil.
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Nov 12, 2014
Nov 12, 2014 at 1:47 AM UTC
The Fog
Oh come forth, speak to me my Lord, I need to hear your words, For them to guide me to you world. I need to hear your voice, For me to follow you, my lord. I'm just a woman dressed in shame. Undress me, lord. See my nakedness with innocence, And cloth me, lord. Enwrap me in your mantle of love.
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May 6, 2015
May 6, 2015 at 6:30 PM UTC
Untitledo
I give a love that feels like gambling at the casino You take your risks, play the slots, roll the dice with me And on the chance that I let you in, Thoughts of you will consume me, enwrap me Difficult to understand, difficult to know deeply The odds of success with me would make a reasonable person cut their losses and go home So I surround myself with risk-takers It makes finding someone to love me back that much harder But that much more gratifying
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Oct 25, 2022
Oct 25, 2022 at 3:29 PM UTC
Casino
Take me to the world of poetry Where the syllables are colourful as flowers The rhyme flows like a river The message sheds light like the Sun The metaphorical expressions send shivers down my spine As I journey through the stanzas, I wanna smell the sweet fragrance of its words Dive into its lake of deep emotions Ride through its different terrains and styles Enwrap me in its poetic layers Take me to the world of poetry I was told I will never want to leave
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Mar 22, 2019
Mar 22, 2019 at 8:29 AM UTC
Poetic world
***to enwrap consciousness in a thought-filled cage.. Pressing consciousness through the bars and with temporary relief from a seeming demand to reckon with an observer an inner presence entangled with sights and sounds.. We are all struggling to find Peace..Happiness.. Struggles are the messages from These: a simple request to re-direct our gaze and ears to that which precedes.. The consciousness of our deep intuition...***
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Aug 18, 2017
Aug 18, 2017 at 6:40 PM UTC
Science struggles