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"epiphanic" poems
I am slowly learning to disregard the insatiable desire to be special. I think it began, the soft piano ballad of epiphanic freedom that danced in my head, when you mentioned that “Van Gogh was her thing” while I stood there in my overall dress, admiring his sunflowers at the art museum. And then again on South Street, while we thumbed through old records and I picked up Morrissey and you mentioned her name like it was stuck in your teeth. Each time, I felt a paintbrush on my cheeks, covering my skin in grey and fading me into a quiet, concealed background that hummed “everything you’ve ever loved has been loved before, and everything you are has already been,” on an endless loop. It echoed in your wrists that I stared at, walking (home) in the middle of the street, and I felt like a ghost moving forward in an eternal line, waiting to haunt anyone who thought I was worth it. But no one keeps my name folded in their wallet. Only girls who are able to carve their names into paintings and vinyl live in pockets and dust bunnies and bathroom mirrors. And so be it, that I am grey and humming in the background. I am forgotten Sundays and chipped fingernail polish and borrowed sheets. I’m the song you’ll get stuck in your head, but it will remind you of someone else. I am 2 in the afternoon, I am the last day of winter, I am a face on the sidewalk that won’t show up in your dreams. And I am everywhere, and I am nothing at all.
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Mar 24, 2015
Mar 24, 2015 at 12:34 PM UTC
Kathleen
this year: the one person i thought was my soulmate left my life without so much as one word i fell out of love with the first girl i fell in love with i was reunited with someone i hoped would be my new mother i was repeatedly disappointed i met the most amazing friend i only ever imagined having i quit my job i got a new job i fell in love with a pathological liar i went to my grandfather's funeral i was lied to by the pathological liar (surprise!) i was there for her when she went to detox i was there for her when she relapsed i had a rather epiphanic moment where i was brought to inexplicable sobs and repeated screams  on my knees saying "help me" in desperate hopes of being heard by some unknowable God i quit the new job and got hired back at the old one i lost trust in all humans, including myself i moved in with my dad i got to know the depths of fragility i was manipulated and in turn, i manipulated i had random panic attacks i met Regina Spektor i wrote poems i wrote songs i painted i read books i drank a lot of coffee i smoked many cigarettes i laughed less i cried less i felt less i denied anti-depressants i worked on letting go of unhealthy persons, including my mother which lead to learning the repetitive lesson that overnight success does not exist i booked a flight to Mississippi i learned how to be alone without being lonely i became even more infatuated with the moon i wanted to die, i'm still alive. i made mistakes, i learned from them. this year has been a whirlwind, a teenage drama gone half right topped with a questionable ending 2013, here i come.
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Dec 30, 2012
Dec 30, 2012 at 3:13 AM UTC
a year in a poem
this year: the one person i thought was my soulmate left my life without so much as one word i fell out of love with the first girl i fell in love with i was reunited with someone i hoped would be my new mother i was repeatedly disappointed i met the most amazing friend i only ever imagined having i quit my job i got a new job i fell in love with a pathological liar i went to my grandfather's funeral i was lied to by the pathological liar (surprise!) i was there for her when she went to detox i was there for her when she relapsed i had a rather epiphanic moment where i was brought to inexplicable sobs and repeated screams  on my knees saying "help me" in desperate hopes of being heard by some unknowable God i quit the new job and got hired back at the old one i lost trust in all humans, including myself i moved in with my dad i got to know the depths of fragility i was manipulated and in turn, i manipulated i had random panic attacks i met Regina Spektor i wrote poems i wrote songs i painted i read books i drank a lot of coffee i smoked many cigarettes i laughed less i cried less i felt less i denied anti-depressants i worked on letting go of unhealthy persons, including my mother which lead to learning the repetitive lesson that overnight success does not exist i booked a flight to Mississippi i learned how to be alone without being lonely i became even more infatuated with the moon i wanted to die, i'm still alive. i made mistakes, i learned from them. this year has been a whirlwind, a teenage drama gone half right topped with a questionable ending 2013, here i come.
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42
She came as a breath of fresh air As beautiful as Morning Glory Embraced by dew bathing Epiphanic Under a yawning sun Gentle as a breeze Her softness My hallucinogen I melt in her arms Continuously I am in awe of Her beauty Breathtaking Delicate Feminine Black Beautiful Melanin I fell into her spell With alacrity Coffee Black no Sugar no cream My Queen Envied and persecuted Her essence The epitome of strength Like coffee Black no Sugar no cream My Queen
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Aug 8, 2016
Aug 8, 2016 at 7:34 PM UTC
Coffee
Mirrored thought full breach horizon Yearning drawing bridging cry Intimate complete attraction Now the moment true imply Cast aside mendacious forethought Resolute round purpose fly Epiphanic thought emerging Doubts foul gibbous banish say .... Insp’ration resolute within here Bursting forth bright intellect Loosing dogs full purpose forward Encroaching far reach treaded path Resolute’ness biting grasping Endless boundless seeming lost Blazing purposeful grasp grimly Energise strong inner soul Capa’bil’ity strong purpose Clear thought con’quering foul Abandon dissolute mist darkness Intersperse directive steer Levelling where once lay mountains Onward pushing prancing laugh Voices raised fair joyous chorus Ethereal reaching hands entwine Yearning warmth transcending distance Over hill and Moorland track Understand where strength in thought lay Accomplishment find perfect peace
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Sep 8, 2010
Sep 8, 2010 at 5:15 AM UTC
Encouragement
i. In the hysteria of absolute clarity - *Otherwise known as the aftermath Of an epiphanic experience or 47 revelations of elemental semblance* - One sees one in all, and in All men, Angels. ____________ ii. I live in the suburbs; New subdivisions sitting on Sliced up ground, where elvish houses sat Comfortably twelve years prior. The flowerbeds tell stories In a Tolkeinesque script. iii. But the air's clear here, I can't complain. We've sunshine and enough rain to sustain The whole football team... we're in A division this year, My last in high school... *but I still pigged out on candy today, don't tell mom* iv. I've been listening more to the silence And counted seventeen days, Sequentially (and to my disgruntlement; thus I dare not jest), Wherein alarum bells did roar From iron red chest v. Took Casper to the hospital downtown On a day like today, hey It was raining then too... He had candy in his veins, And purpley-white too tight skin. I still pray for his life every Sunday night. vi. All Hallows' Eve, now two years past, Beneath a blood moon Did the two dance, and sat inside A crippled tree To laugh and kiss; Make merry of a mutual sense of entropy vii. In slow motion with devils dust and funguses and herbs They brewed and spewed as We watched and sang to each other And I learned that demons are in All men
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Oct 31, 2013
Oct 31, 2013 at 5:04 PM UTC
Halloween! Devil's and God's and all of the in between's!
I dreamt a dream but when the night was young, And the moonlight sang lullabies,that doves- Fair-feathered slept to,while boughs at guard hung, Like a lover stands eyeing her, he loves. I dreamt a dream that I had discovered, In the most unexpected of places, In epiphanic manner uncovered, The true possessor of divine graces. There was a chant that I heard in the dream, That made me, unknowingly, pledge my soul; Thus, 'To thee,to thee' did I sing and scream, And woke up,as if released on parole. (Later.) Queen Mab,yet again blessed me at hour wee, And O, did I dream? And what did I see?
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Mar 24, 2019
Mar 24, 2019 at 3:14 PM UTC
Liebestraum (A Poetical Sketch)
leaving grief. and i—i now remember why i should never have allowed anyone to get under my buckling skin for fine friends are only fine, friends until they know the perfect way to damage the stillborn remnants of what you hold on to them, without patience, distraught, you; promises of finding someone better overhearing a devotion that cannot possibly be true only useful in the event of an epiphanic letdown i love you but why have i loved you did i love you because you were kind for five seconds and it was only fair to bleed when it should not be enough did you not love me because i wasn’t enough or because you knew i was nothing to be proud of? from knowing too much, trusting too well follies and fey melodies for a final disconnect i loved you never mean what you say say anything to say anything to say anything to say sorry. your smug conversation is one i carry still with me even as the tactile memory of you burns and my singed skin curls into the shape of an old friend who never cared. i never remember to forget they’ll always be there until they aren’t leaving, grief, and i—i no longer wish for a happier end i only wish there was a softer way to recover.
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Jan 29, 2022
Jan 29, 2022 at 5:17 PM UTC
misguided
*Sapphire Eyes Of An Astral Mermaid, Perpetual Eternities & Her Sundrenched Serenades, Myriad Odysseys & Spellbound Fairytales, Veiled In Elysian Elegance Of Her Harmonious Tales, ****** Landscapes & Electric Fire, Stellar Cloudscapes Of Her Ecstatic Desires, Spatial Matrix Of An Emerald Queen, An Ethereal Butterfly Perpetually Serene, Colored Screenshots & Blue Moon Foundations, Wrecking Overdose Of Her Summer Seductions, Synthetic Transformations Of Her Sun Caged Maze, Interstellar Canvas Painted In Her Galactic Sage, Searchlights Trapped In Her Floral Vortex, Eternal Burns Streaming Spectral *** Supernova Charades & Her Uncharted Palisades, Dewdrops Verses Drenched In Her Toxic Shades, Restrained Insanity & Crystal Heartbeats Stained Perspectives Of Her Intimate Deceits, Phantasmal Radiance To Her Billion Dreams, Enigmatic Raves Blossoming Into Epiphanic Realms. - 05:47 AM -*
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Apr 10, 2017
Apr 10, 2017 at 8:32 PM UTC
Princesse Du Soleil
I demand Edgar Allan Poe to cut open my brain. My thoughts would pour out unto the room. Like rising water to the tip of my lips. Leaving me stuck in between that moment. Where I'm given the choice to drown or be left gasping for air. As his Raven claws at my stomach trying to free himself. From the mimicking & mockery of my fiction. As my crow elegantly, resting at the end of my fingers tips calls out my name. My arm left outstretched reaching for a sky. In a world I could never find rest in. Engulfing me in ravaging, epiphanic darkness. For I have grown wings stitched from everything I have loved and left. Whom now lays dead and made in form of feathers. Dipped in brooding black ink. As I leave this world of pain & comfort.
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Apr 20, 2016
Apr 20, 2016 at 2:18 AM UTC
Ravens & Crows
I witness the carnivalesque dance of illusion the self conscious telling of a familiar story a darkening tone, the synthesing of incompatible perspectives that cause an incandescent agony of self-inflicted wounds caused by the somatizing of events by others but leads to epiphanic illuminations the transformative energies of disintigration where all the beauty that is inherent in the ordinary becomes clear everthing lights up with the glow of the quantum expansion of great silences and I can retrieve from the unconcious something I know but have forgotten
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Dec 4, 2012
Dec 4, 2012 at 4:48 PM UTC
To know.....To know....
Light slowly rises, Milky sun, soft, tannin mist— Coffee in morning.
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Aug 2, 2014
Aug 2, 2014 at 2:00 PM UTC
Haiku (epiphanic)
Ash from two cigarettes on the stone pylon beneath my feet, I **** yellowbrown into the Hocking. My stream meets the river on a riptide, Carefully crafted from the funneled remnants Of melted snow and torrential rain Just to give off the illusion of chaos. Forms of spectacular watermotion grace the noonday clouds, And despite their haste, too high on molly, There’s something hanging in the stillness beneath the mudbrown surface— Some epiphanic moment that rapidity and angerwaves Refuse to force out of sight; some Strand of smoke, still floating upwards from the dampened cigarette ash Abandoned twelve hours prior; some Slurred-drunken word, tinged anyways with meaning. The lips I kissed after climbing back onto the bridge the night before Proved to be less than irrelevant (screaming later, as they did, someone else’s name While I lay listening, still half thinking that Maybe she’d just gone upstairs for some floss). But The fact that there were lips there at all, In the rain Under the stars Over the Hocking Issuing with reverence the words “magical” and “perfect” Through the darkness of the night and the echoes of Joni Mitchell’s voice… It’s something worth noting, despite the angerwaves; Something worth feeling Despite the noonday clouds and dampened ash. Now that I’ve screamed at the river and ****** on it with a harshlaugh, I think I can also Find a moment to give it thanks. Because I’m off the pylon now. I’m back on the bridge. And I’m walking South With the flow of the Hocking, back into Athens. And I am finally (The rain beating against my face, my clothes, my mind) So very here.
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Mar 16, 2015
Mar 16, 2015 at 1:35 AM UTC
Illusion of Chaos
Ash from two cigarettes on the stone pylon beneath my feet, I **** yellowbrown into the Hocking. My stream meets the river on a riptide, Carefully crafted from the funneled remnants Of melted snow and torrential rain Just to give off the illusion of chaos. Forms of spectacular watermotion grace the noonday clouds, And despite their haste, too high on molly, There’s something hanging in the stillness beneath the mudbrown surface— Some epiphanic moment that rapidity and angerwaves Refuse to force out of sight; some Strand of smoke, still floating upwards from the dampened cigarette ash Abandoned twelve hours prior; some Slurred-drunken word, tinged anyways with meaning. The lips I kissed after climbing back onto the bridge the night before Proved to be less than irrelevant (screaming later, as they did, someone else’s name While I lay listening, still half thinking that Maybe she’d just gone upstairs for some floss). But The fact that there were lips there at all, In the rain Under the stars Over the Hocking Issuing with reverence the words “magical” and “perfect” Through the darkness of the night and the echoes of Joni Mitchell’s voice… It’s something worth noting, despite the angerwaves; Something worth feeling Despite the noonday clouds and dampened ash. Now that I’ve screamed at the river and ****** on it with a harshlaugh, I think I can also Find a moment to give it thanks. Because I’m off the pylon now. I’m back on the bridge. And I’m walking South With the flow of the Hocking, back into Athens. And I am finally (The rain beating against my face, my clothes, my mind) So very here.
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spiritual burglary delicious minutes unlovely products of a puritanical conscience alcohol  taken as a club with which to bludgeon  into a state of insensibility words seemed to clothe genuine  honesty , they prove to be the veriest nonsense epiphanic amorphous mind and its stream of consciousness I imagine  a neural interface that could record dreams not brainwaves, but images phantasmagoric films beset by the florid mind sorry echoes in the verbosity Too bad love has fallen out of style now that squares rule the world I can't express "why" in words so unrealistic a view of themselves and the world that they become most difficult to live with little wonder I dwell alone everything is really fragmentary analyzing the analyst tripping over my words instantaneous administration mesmerized by the minutiae of sensations tangles of terminology writhe in his brain collating and sorting assigning vectors in hopeful sectors where heart and love abides
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Jul 14, 2016
Jul 14, 2016 at 9:40 PM UTC
Too Bad Love is Out of Style
One summer day, as time wore on, I found myself traversing a street. It was unfamiliar, and led to a field, At the end of which lay an old creek. I stopped for a second, something in the air Asked of me to take a look - And, Behold! Astoundingly enough... Tremendous beauty was ingrained in the brook! The water performed it's marvelous play In passionate hues of Azure. A stark blue with a pastel inlay, Shining with an unearthly allure. But as if to add to the moment, In one epiphanic display - The evening sun deigned to glance down And strike it in just the right way. And the sight! It drew my breath A slow mist inviting light within, As if the entire scene was bathed in gold, With tones of blue and green mixed in. Then, seemingly, as fast as it had come, The picture vanished - Gone in a flash! Darkness now engulfed the world, Tommorow perhaps the light will be back.
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Aug 24, 2014
Aug 24, 2014 at 5:52 PM UTC
Azure Tomorrow (Azul Manana Quizas)
inside messiah outside middle boy picks up a stick strings through a soul how many things pierce ears music hears droplets messiah ripen there sling rocknroll, strings tangle flock tight round his 'heart,' release he (carefully) puts down his guitar.
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May 31, 2017
May 31, 2017 at 12:14 AM UTC
epiphanic
Light slowly rises, Milky sun, soft, tannin mist— Coffee in morning.
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Jun 26, 2014
Jun 26, 2014 at 11:20 AM UTC
Haiku (epiphanic)
Light slowly rises, Milky sun, soft, tannin mist— Coffee in morning.
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Jul 18, 2013
Jul 18, 2013 at 7:16 PM UTC
Haiku (epiphanic)
I am twisting in the cyclone , where I'm locked into some syndrome and I can't find my way home. There's a darkness that's enveloped me. can't breathe, cant, think or feel or see, No wizard here, no Dorothy just the howling of infinity. At the ultimate conclusion when I've spun into the fusion of epiphanic confusion and am thrown out of the night, I find that lightness of a sound where the ties that bind are all unwound and everything is all alright, for now.
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Jan 21, 2015
Jan 21, 2015 at 4:34 AM UTC
Vapour trails
Light slowly rises, Milky sun, soft, tannin mist— Coffee in morning.
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Oct 2, 2012
Oct 2, 2012 at 12:59 PM UTC
Haiku (epiphanic)
latent ***** stripped worldly bearings dizzy not catching spiral then seconds multiply not dodge or burn but grow where it all often slides and I palm groove it rolls inside as memoir with new car smell epiphanic brushed script in hallowed blues & pinstriped opal my vibration outpaces the weight of existence cuts it off around my bending center stills enough to catch glinting dust before I turn to it
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Nov 26, 2017
Nov 26, 2017 at 11:14 AM UTC
blue opal
I think everything starts of strong, too strong. I think it began with the epiphanic violin solo, that breathed you aren't alone; even though, I feel so alone. while we walked through the museums and I stood in front of Van Gogh's Irises and you said that I looked like I belonged there, I belonged everywhere. I think my love for you began to blossom on the nights in late May, in your car listening to Morrissey while you were smoking your favorite cigarette. I laid in the seat being ****** into eternal darkness. I constantly thought of Madisen Kuhn's words, while they lingered in my mind: “everything you’ve ever loved has been loved before, and everything you are has already been,” She said that my love for you isn't organic, my love isn't unique- but I promise you it is, My love for you could never be expressed fully through words. So I will tell you this, I love you, for who you are. I love your favorite cigarette, I love the irises we spent hours looking at, I love who I am with you- I feel real, I feel alive. You make me feel alive.
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Sep 7, 2017
Sep 7, 2017 at 10:06 AM UTC
Joey
Afflicted notions of my own. From those who filled with false adoration. And sprung new hope now gone. Who left with little to no revelation. No epiphanic thought. Just another name to rot, lost Forgot and caught in tandem oceans of Fury and Envy. Envy being strongest. Among all my lost causes.
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Aug 13, 2019
Aug 13, 2019 at 6:33 AM UTC
Furious Blindness
*Foreplay is vital For great ideas to have Epiphanic ***
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Apr 1, 2017
Apr 1, 2017 at 6:48 AM UTC
Haiku #144