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"epitomized" poems
Awaken from the dreams Nightmares all around Caustic waves of infidelity Sinking Skulking Sinning What transpires at nightfall Is epitomized into everyday life Different being Vampire Carnivore Folk-lore
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Dec 28, 2012
Dec 28, 2012 at 7:29 PM UTC
*******
Some people remind me of a campfire, a source of eclectic senses: the smoky wood, the evolutionary fascination of the flame, the warmth and chill of a starry night. Others remind me of a snow day in grade school, a source of jittery incongruence: the sprinkles of white, the disruption of monotonous school work, the mischief of nature coming to the rescue. You remind me of an early morning rain, a source of calm melancholy: the soft droplets on leaves, the lessened saturation from the overcast, the heightened realization and contentment of one's existence. The essence of people epitomized as scenes and collective experiences; it is not so much of what it is but rather how it makes you feel.
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Apr 12, 2024
Apr 12, 2024 at 6:36 PM UTC
The Essence of People
Eye liner smudged Rimmed in black smoke Darkness begins to blur Forming shadows that hide in dark crevices Wings feather out And darken Dripping with sadness Innocence glistens As hazel speaks the truth That no one wants to see Clarity epitomized And set free
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Jan 27, 2014
Jan 27, 2014 at 8:32 PM UTC
smoky rims
It's stories above where the butterflies rustled, Whirring between the lights in aeolian bustle. I'm smiling spritely at a neon halo, While my organs writhe in jacqueminot El Niño. Wading the nightscape  with a glitched simper, I could not change nor attempt to tinker, Just breaching the moments passing to linger. Fingers, then palms, then lips, then black, Then for a few seconds the world collapsed. A breath, a sip, some wit, I'm back. Shed the murky vision of captive cataracts. And now, The sylph saunters in epitomized elegance, And I've buckled on the inside to the resonant reverence. I follow the fragrance in her wake as paralyzed sedatives, And anything I might say could only lack eloquence. Then magnanimous mantras attract exact, It seems way down the rabbit hole I've finally met my match. There's a mesh of flesh, a smooth caress, Then I wake and realize these were not visions yonder death. Particles of my brain erupt, I can't explain away the unfading elation of touch. Every pose palatial down to the pixels, I'd gaze deep in the sheen of her mind gleaming as crystals. Her eyes open like daybreak in flashes, Sunstreaks glint over the horizon of her lashes. There's morning songbirds behind the taste of coffee, I think she's figured I'm just a well decorated softy. Unveiling my most human of contentions stripped to the eclipse of logic, My former self laughs in tones pitched sardonic. Euphorically strumming at gossamer heartstrings, Etched in the fabric as sakura carvings.
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Oct 31, 2017
Oct 31, 2017 at 8:48 PM UTC
Beautiful Creature
It's stories above where the butterflies rustled, Whirring between the lights in aeolian bustle. I'm smiling spritely at a neon halo, While my organs writhe in jacqueminot El Niño. Wading the nightscape  with a glitched simper, I could not change nor attempt to tinker, Just breaching the moments passing to linger. Fingers, then palms, then lips, then black, Then for a few seconds the world collapsed. A breath, a sip, some wit, I'm back. Shed the murky vision of captive cataracts. And now, The sylph saunters in epitomized elegance, And I've buckled on the inside to the resonant reverence. I follow the fragrance in her wake as paralyzed sedatives, And anything I might say could only lack eloquence. Then magnanimous mantras attract exact, It seems way down the rabbit hole I've finally met my match. There's a mesh of flesh, a smooth caress, Then I wake and realize these were not visions yonder death. Particles of my brain erupt, I can't explain away the unfading elation of touch. Every pose palatial down to the pixels, I'd gaze deep in the sheen of her mind gleaming as crystals. Her eyes open like daybreak in flashes, Sunstreaks glint over the horizon of her lashes. There's morning songbirds behind the taste of coffee, I think she's figured I'm just a well decorated softy. Unveiling my most human of contentions stripped to the eclipse of logic, My former self laughs in tones pitched sardonic. Euphorically strumming at gossamer heartstrings, Etched in the fabric as sakura carvings.
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32
Anthropogenic artefacts Heart attacks hearts attacked Dead calm gyre Tide line debris You and me and I Beach combing the detritus of us and them and they Invasive spaces hidden faces aroma of decay Kicking over seaweed mounds Lost and founds Seeking out sun sparkled jewels the aroma of decay the plastic looks like ruby the netting gossamer light life moves amongst the mass massing moving living and dying I save one shell to liberate the memory To fix it in the opalescent bisque pocketed treasured that tide line left behind remains from us all of us Everyone tries amongst the stinking tangle of uselessness of spoil to see the value to seek and love the life appreciating interpreting beauty in our tideline Personal life left overs the things we leave behind left behind beached beyond doubt dried beyond quenching Those hours objects people and places those cruel elements took away Stripped from us only to dispose of them because they could because we could not stop them Tide line physical metaphorical epitomized by those eyes that shell the reason why walking on beaches makes us feel better
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Aug 19, 2013
Aug 19, 2013 at 9:23 AM UTC
Tide lines
San Francisco holds spirits Of those unalike Luscious shades of grey, sparkled stone. Mighty bridges greet, A plethora of wonders sweet The smell of hot dogs, crab, Italian meats Countries epitomized on few streets Seven miles of freedom of speech. Creed of liberation To be ourselves, walk with personal strides A passion, a determination In the shadowy depths of a cold sea Lurk mystery. Pigeons coo, expounding over history A pleasure inwardly Lets go to San Francisco- there lies human victory.
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Jul 12, 2014
Jul 12, 2014 at 10:55 PM UTC
San Francisco Streets
Turn conscious grey hues into feuds, Spin white and black into monsters of Ambiguity and undeveloped negatives, Mix colors of depressed clouds, Brush the bound stolen hairs drenched In blues against the mind’s reflection. Distort reality, manipulate memory, Exploit experience, maximize emotion. Look at the soul of the masterpiece- Magnificence personified, Beauty and surprise epitomized. Never have my eyes been blinded, Reminded by thoughts’ image mirrored.
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Feb 13, 2010
Feb 13, 2010 at 8:56 PM UTC
The Canvas
In his hand he holds a heart A heart that was once her own It has no wings to fly away To where the PrttyBrd has flown Since it could not follow It awaited the return To dwell in the empty cavern Of a love that will ever burn Ne'er to be filled with purpose As the cavern is sewn in steel The fire will char the surface Where there is nothing left to feel She could not bear the weight Upon her wings so frail A heart so full of love Returned to no avail For it had beaten just for her Though she never realized She had thought she set him free But epitomized his demise
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Feb 4, 2015
Feb 4, 2015 at 6:06 PM UTC
Gossamer Wings
it’s inky water flowing behind me trying to nip at my heels. it’s dulled now, by the intoxicating liquid burning down my throat. it’s molasses heated i step in its sticky puddle, and it’s carried up my leg. disgusted, i reach down to wipe it off. it only clings to my fingers and oozes up my arm and leaves my hand covered in the thick brown sauce. i am frightened now i freeze. dread fills my features i know it will not stop and on and on it goes i am immaculately sticky shining and shaking. it’s panic epitomized. it surges up my neck. i hold my head high although i know it won’t help; it’s just instinct. i scream. it flows down my throat. into my stomach, into my lungs into my core, into my being. my eyes are flashing it’s all over i drown in more ways than one and the inky substance exudes from my body and seeps into the ground and is gone leaving the residue of me.
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Jun 22, 2010
Jun 22, 2010 at 1:18 PM UTC
molasses
Epitomized fame, didn't she, Atomized the blame, didn't she, On herself, she put all the blame. Did not knot it loose, she didn't, Did never feel satisfied, she didn't, Fed up with life, she ended her game. Such was a lover who ended her life.
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Apr 2, 2016
Apr 2, 2016 at 2:40 AM UTC
What Good Is The Fame?
She was preparing for her exams, And I was aiding her for the prep, Over the telephone I helped her. She was a bright student always, And I had to rarely give even a tip, On some biology topics I guided her. I loved her like my child. Misconception rose its head, In the end the relation died, So much is lost in this fight, So much is epitomized here. Young and cheerful her face, Oftentimes I am remembering, Unhappy I am as I fell from grace.
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Dec 21, 2015
Dec 21, 2015 at 1:11 AM UTC
I Had Just Lit The Path Up
I am in love with Michael Douglas and I’m not going to complain About the wrinkles, the wife, the age, Watch Wall Street and tell me how it makes you feel to watch such brilliant divine acting portrayed with the most cavalier feel to hear that bravado and smooth hypnotizing talk, to watch that strong confidence epitomized in that hand-in-pocket walk to experience that indescribable flair a man must be born with I know I’m just a kid But understand if you can, That Michael Douglas is the man.
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Nov 15, 2011
Nov 15, 2011 at 12:32 AM UTC
Michael Douglas
Cheers to us I'll say, Even towards the obvious end. Fashionably spelled with Acrylic resin across my skin As a daily reminder, As if I would forget Beauty's creator. Your power of alchemy First revealed to me As a warped hole inside A 6th grade English Composition book. The absence of friendship Invoked your name. You've epitomized Loyalty ever since, My work testifies to it. I couldn't be any More grateful. (c) 2015 Brandon Antonio Smith
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Sep 5, 2015
Sep 5, 2015 at 9:49 AM UTC
Ode To Black Sorrow
Don’t do that. Give me that look of epitomized stupidity. You must be kidding me. Just stop before I lose control Of everything and all I know. Every time I open up I find myself getting hurt. You don’t want to hear about my pain? Why? *** is causes you discomfort. So then its all about you? Your life on that silver platter. Read between the black and white, the grey matter. Open up your eyes Shed the hollow life, your living lies. I’d test you, maybe bring out the best in you. Try these on for size; my shoes Take a journey of what I’ve been through. I’ll like to see how you do. So what if I have stumbled, I didn’t crash. If it was you, do you think you woulda last? No I didn’t burn, Went straight arrow Never took the wrong turn. Its been a never-ending battle. Me against all Everyone watching to see if I would fall. But I won’t back down I’ll crack down Stay focused on what I have May not be what I wanted but man it was the hand I was dealt Sometimes I think love was an emotion I've never felt. Even if I have to walk this life alone I’ll be sure that one day I could say, Yea, that I made it on my own.
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Jul 7, 2011
Jul 7, 2011 at 2:49 PM UTC
Make It On My Own
*dear inamorato, lightning strikes in my heart for you. our love is electric; a love so powerful that it could be the end of everything. because of this, we must be apart. the spark between us would have eventually led to fires and floods. we were nothing but destruction epitomized, the manifestation of pain. our love cannot be. although my heart is cool embers without you near, our love could only end in inevitable detriment. pay attention closely, our last storm is approaching. look to the sky, this is my good-bye. our love was cumulonimbus clouds and lightning strikes, i cannot forget and neither can you. i hope the sun shines, and you wish for the days when it was nothing but rain. i hope that you can remember this electricity. good-bye, my inamorato. good-bye to everything. can't you see, like a flash of lightning, i had to leave. so promise me that you won't wait around for the next lightning strike, for i am not coming back. our final storm has begun. look to the sky, look to the fading sun.                                                                                                                       love,                                                                                                    your inamorata*
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Mar 20, 2016
Mar 20, 2016 at 9:10 PM UTC
letters in a box beneath my bed (i)
Freedom is not just emancipated ideas eloquently expressed in a verbal or written fashion Freedom is not just uninhibited emotions flauntingly displayed as a graphic or immature ruse Freedom is not just unrestricted movements randomly performed with a chance or designed purpose Freedom is not just autonomous symbols deeply epitomized by a banner or even a notion Freedom exists in the minds of the open to comprehend the essence behind the symbols Freedom exists in the actions of the forces to blaze new pathways and synergize movements Freedom exists in the resolve of the free to exercise empathy with those lost in emotions Freedom exists in the love of the word to elevate one’s born right beyond hollow ideas.
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Jun 10, 2017
Jun 10, 2017 at 3:45 PM UTC
Freedom
When juiced a spore sized embryo, early in utero; fetus evinces atavistic miniaturization, where nascent differentiation wrought physical resemblance to - seek reachers, sans Tarzan and Jane forebears, or exemplification of religious embodiments writ upon taut lee helical real to reel strung nano deoxyribonucleic acid, where dome min ant ander recessive traits pop sic cull, and/or mom genes sought took comb hing gull, where foxy fiery hander chrome hat tick microscopic threads ineluctably hired bot to weave warp and woof for naught heard interpretive soundcloud issue onomatopoetic beat, whether as: the Marseillaise, muezzin, or reveille blown in the wind by alimentary mechanic, *** killed in all manner of ought tow mobile craftsmanship, which possibly inflated and made pregnant, when one seem n thrashes within timed zona pellucida drawbridge, hooping an ova to snag, though odds stacked against the most basic cell fish competition fought in the **** z of evolutionary biology informing **** sapiens one errant or defiant game gamete perhaps hinting a gamine tubby wonderfully woven with wisps viz The Idler Wheel Is Wiser than the Driver of the ***** and Whipping Cords Will Serve You More than Ropes Will Ever Do a ha at last that renegade oocyte nabbed, analogously the Michael Phelps re: among the flagellated madding crowdsource qua squirming sperm-faction caught thence the commencement when trappings for a newborn bought years later reviewing prenatal sonograms with grown son or daughter pointing out how ***** editorialized, epitomized, and exemplified in miniature (no bigger than any letter of the alphabet), and closely resembled many creatures extant throughout the briny deep such as an amphibian, reptile or Argonaut.
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May 27, 2017
May 27, 2017 at 8:24 PM UTC
Noah cur teen call caul when Oscar goes wild with ingenue adulteration
When juiced a spore sized embryo, early in utero; fetus evinces atavistic miniaturization, where nascent differentiation wrought physical resemblance to - seek reachers, sans Tarzan and Jane forebears, or exemplification of religious embodiments writ upon taut lee helical real to reel strung nano deoxyribonucleic acid, where dome min ant ander recessive traits pop sic cull, and/or mom genes sought took comb hing gull, where foxy fiery hander chrome hat tick microscopic threads ineluctably hired bot to weave warp and woof for naught heard interpretive soundcloud issue onomatopoetic beat, whether as: the Marseillaise, muezzin, or reveille blown in the wind by alimentary mechanic, *** killed in all manner of ought tow mobile craftsmanship, which possibly inflated and made pregnant, when one seem n thrashes within timed zona pellucida drawbridge, hooping an ova to snag, though odds stacked against the most basic cell fish competition fought in the **** z of evolutionary biology informing **** sapiens one errant or defiant game gamete perhaps hinting a gamine tubby wonderfully woven with wisps viz The Idler Wheel Is Wiser than the Driver of the ***** and Whipping Cords Will Serve You More than Ropes Will Ever Do a ha at last that renegade oocyte nabbed, analogously the Michael Phelps re: among the flagellated madding crowdsource qua squirming sperm-faction caught thence the commencement when trappings for a newborn bought years later reviewing prenatal sonograms with grown son or daughter pointing out how ***** editorialized, epitomized, and exemplified in miniature (no bigger than any letter of the alphabet), and closely resembled many creatures extant throughout the briny deep such as an amphibian, reptile or Argonaut.
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34
They  were  three, Playing  with her hair  in a  spree, Clasping a  handsome  tuft in her hand She  left  off  her hair-band, Suddenly  she  broke  one’s  solitude And let him  into her  glossy  hood. There  was  none, to inhibit there  union for  they  epitomized joy On  a  face  that seemed so coy. The  gazing eyelids  cherished As  she  let her  left-outs  loose, She  was  cruel  to  not  let a  few Merge with them on a truce. Again and again, her  locks  fell, their  failure  to entangle  the  fallen striking them  insane. They  only  drest her  braid, Pained to  see,  her  dangling locks Kiss  her  forehead. For on a  lyrical  note, They  redefined beauty Letting not  her flawless  exuberance Being curtailed to brevity. A rhythm  so ambrosial   was  ne’er to  be  found, for  it  was  divine  symphony simply all around !!! --- Shubham Roy
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Oct 28, 2015
Oct 28, 2015 at 3:59 AM UTC
Hairclips
an average of 2,830 cubic meters per second of rich silt forms an alluvial plain spreads outward in a fan shape from sedimentary deposit whereby ancient Egyptian civilizations got built adorning arid topography invaluable like aorta pumping blood at the nape of the neck, yet analogous context engendered engineering feats without guilt whereby artisans, craftsmen, early geographers illustrated in frieze and drape frozen timeless statuary exhibiting phenomenal abilities to the hilt associated from mainspring within fertile crescent swollen like a plump grape which longest river often overflows banks whereby coveted materiel gets spilt feeding the rift valley and allowing, enabling and providing peoples to dominate flooding the history of mankind with accomplishments that marvel even today epitomized by innovations - alphabets, wheelwrights, pyramids, etc lives did create baffling historians how each mortise and tenon snug as a bug in a rug mortise and tenon block construed edifices persons did intricately lay perfect with near geometric exactitude ranks as wonder of webbed wide world great faint hints of daily trials and tribulations recorded for posterity in clay or shards of broken pottery pieced together coupling revelations a mosaic plate which functional artifacts provided dietary staples to pagan spirits populace did pray.
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Feb 10, 2018
Feb 10, 2018 at 1:06 AM UTC
Adrift in daydreams upon the banks of the Nile
George Washington and Abraham Lincoln mythologized commanders in chief  epitomized supreme martial mien and vocalized special flair talents summoned from their native heart-land motif  in Modus Operandi of bootstraps dare acquired evanescent mythic reverence extant within bibliographic brief and closest role to God like air. Said first and sixteenth president storied figurative bookends stood side by side  honored on anniversary of their birth, now renown across divers places far and wide  over this one in a million (or billions) cosmic entities known as planet Earth for courage and strength which forged that unique American sense and sensibility in tandem with prejudice pride  forthwith esprit de corps touched, when above named epitomized, , eulogized, exemplified strapping youths vigorous lifestyle wrought washboard girth kindling psyches, and lit fires within homes and hearth. These outsize personas held ephemeral dream where fledgling American state acquired sterling reputation wherein this country under aegis of Democracy became a winning team. Among the legends and lore  surrounding each of these great men   their stature grew more and more  cult like benevolence these paternal figures  United States can never ignore.
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Jan 8, 2018
Jan 8, 2018 at 2:59 PM UTC
Extraordinary Pillars of these United States
Poetry is an enigmatic, waste of space. Or perhaps an absolute, epitomized truth.
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Dec 6, 2012
Dec 6, 2012 at 2:44 PM UTC
Untitled
He followed me everywhere I went. My gaze could always avert to him. From the corner of my eyes. He was fate awaiting my return to afterlife. I could hear the time ticking in my head. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Until the clock struck 12. He came closer and closer to me. I could see not his eyes but only his smile. A smile that epitomized his await for my soul. He was my reaper. He took parts of me that I could no longer find. And suddenly I was nothing. Nothing but Empty. Until finally, the last light I saw was Darkness.
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Mar 15, 2015
Mar 15, 2015 at 2:35 PM UTC
The Reaper