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"eradicates" poems
Wistful lust and melancholy mangoes Succulent decadence and still I am morose A plum for pining, a kiwi for whining Pineapple dreams are the clouds’ only lining For in the resting realm the reality is nigh Alas cruel consciousness eradicates the high And thrown am I back into awareness That life and love are not games of fairness
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Oct 31, 2011
Oct 31, 2011 at 4:01 PM UTC
Pineapple Dreams
*Inclusion: the action or state of including or being included within a group or structure Solution: a means of solving a problem or dealing with a difficult situation* **Now, is ‘inclusion’ the ‘solution’?** Is confiding not always in yourself, but being able to confide in people you trust: a group, a team, not an impeccably simple way to solve complications? Some people that dwell in isolation succumb to despondency and desolation and invariably, wrap themselves in a costume of facades. Inclusion eradicates these issues. We as humans want answers to our questions, resolutions to our complications; a myriad of different perspectives can quickly enlighten and open the eyes of those who truly seek a solution. Solution to what? Solutions to those “impossible questions”, Solutions to those “exasperating situations” we can’t seem to get out, Solutions to those “family troubles” "relationship troubles", "work troubles", most importantly, those “social problems”. Inclusion is no secret, it’s the biggest weapon we as people have. Inclusion gives all of its users the power to control. Inclusion is power, the real wealth beneath our skins. With inclusion, we have the solution. (d.b.d.)
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Oct 7, 2014
Oct 7, 2014 at 12:58 PM UTC
Inclusion is the Solution
Writhing, violent rebellion Systems shutting down Uncontrollable behavior Powerless, I frown Fresh wounds by the second Digesting razor blades Flickering old habits Born of old flames Shredding softest weakness Corroding iron strength Nothing will escape Mind snaps, and bends Healing salve corrupted Swallow all the same Eradicates stomach lining Emptiness becomes pain Consciousness cradled Craven slumber, debased Maybe this time Maybe - ! Maybe not.
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Sep 16, 2025
Sep 16, 2025 at 9:12 PM UTC
Sepsis
Which variation do you choose to throttle blows Squeeze your nostril collect that head fluid Your mental eradicates nasal liquid Nose running swinging like a bungee jump Panicking searching for the tissue clump Dangling like the Tarzan on a jungle vine Hand eye coordination catch that snot on time My nose got that stutter drip Watch when i sneeze flying lighting manumits When the nose pouring stops I was only dreaming pops
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Apr 12, 2014
Apr 12, 2014 at 12:15 PM UTC
Running Nose
Which variation do you choose to throttle blows Squeeze your nostril collect that head fluid Your mental eradicates nasal liquid Nose running like a bungee jump Panicking searching for the tissue clump Dangling like Tarzan on a jungle vine Hand eye coordination catch that snot on time My nose got that stutter drip Watch when I sneeze flying lightning manumits When the nose pouring stops I realise I was only dreaming pops
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Apr 1, 2014
Apr 1, 2014 at 7:08 PM UTC
Running Nose
It's so wonderful to feel mountains of emotions so moving in oneself It creates valleys and volcanic eruptions That warm the body so thoroughly you believe you may melt Into a puddle of overwhelming love and joy How beautiful it is Like golden sunshine, warming the spots in between the tree branches Full of leaves in late spring It eradicates the ashen hue in your veins with lavish reds How warming to the soul to feel a tributary of trust So deeply embedded in the wholeness of a love Shared between two people A strong sense of wanting to better yourself blossoms inside True love bears vines and trees of fruit in the soul, mind, and body It paints the dulling colors of the world so glaringly gasping to the eye Filling one with colors And out of all the feeling kinds Color feeling is the loveliest one
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Dec 28, 2014
Dec 28, 2014 at 11:01 AM UTC
Color feeling
i am a poet and still i can’t comprehend these symbols these missing heartbeats and hours spent counting thimbles i am perplexed by love shall we seek herbs and remedies lose ourselves in cures and compounds must our inner territories be colonized while we remain captivated by inconvenient theories struck down by doubt and insecurity the mind wields no ammunition and yet its cavalry has desecrated the land without the slightest sign of inhibition or a trace of empathy, justice or compassion will we make a new peace treaty will the blessed earth be forgiven and can the sweet essence of her children comprehend the innocence of spring oh how our hearts yearn for dancing still you spend your dollars and your pennies but give your emptiness to the king i eat oats and honey cooked upon the fire while you distill golden nectar from the garden of desire in the ancient inside-out alembic of your will and imbibe spagyric liquid that eradicates all pride and confers wisdom, truth, beauty and longevity upon the already immortal nature of your mind
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Sep 5, 2018
Sep 5, 2018 at 5:04 PM UTC
alchemy of desire
Apology All hail my sacred ideology. I bow my head in reverence when I Spill my emotions on your kitchen floor Sorry, sorry! I'll try my best not to do it again; Please, pry carefully I can take it if you’re careful But pray for me when I tumble. I’ve never quite liked Having to discuss myself Or crying And I strive not to But sometimes, She escapes my lips The jail cell in my head where I detain the things I really need to say Has a loose lock Thank God; Apology Apology is sweet Ambrosia With one almighty swipe, an Apology Eradicates the words you said before Eradicates the feelings you should've kept to yourself It is courtesy It is expected All hail Apology, forsaken Smiter of all things relieving.
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Jan 22, 2019
Jan 22, 2019 at 8:58 PM UTC
Ode to Apology
A decision made impulsively Sometimes ends repulsively But sometimes ends perfectly And eradicates conformity Look just a little more you (When in fact there's less of you) They look again and say that's WHO? Open up their world view When they see that people can change
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Aug 5, 2014
Aug 5, 2014 at 5:25 PM UTC
Change
“She who has infused every minute of my day, Hastens through titillating my endorphins. Absconded hiding within myself, As blue crystals glaring teeter in the sea, As we sanction the reticence of ardor, While the sea eradicates its perennial effigy, As infinite cascades eradicate beneath us, As the water stride procures to the sandy shore, Where the waves shatter on unsettled rocks, As once again the clear light bursts as sun sets, Enmeshed in a fabric of palpable vibrant colors, Portrayed as that of a burlesque plumeria of infinites, The plumeria burst of aureoles immortal love, Unyielding its pedals as the devouring sea rotates, Will ephemeral demise procure in the deep blue sea? Over its blue pedaled face an astringent frown, We have embarked on a promenade of love my dear, I now stand before you no longer with emptiness, Only perennial affection that you are mine and I yours, In our Aureoles of Plumeria” By AG 03/10/2018 ©
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Apr 10, 2018
Apr 10, 2018 at 6:52 PM UTC
“AUREOLES of PLUMERIA”
There is Power in my words oh how i love these adjectives & verbs my adoration of this language rooted deeply in fables.. and mystic lore set in place long before my great great grandmother was named... Weaving the lyrics of my mind into a tangible form something verbal and legible that touches the heart... Concocting experiments to combine the English language with the literary elements of old... Praying that i add the correct amounts of this and that so the resulting bond of Chemicals Eradicates your mind leaving a ravaged wasteland of thought I am Astral these words are my Pulse bearing to you my Genetic Code
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Sep 12, 2009
Sep 12, 2009 at 3:56 PM UTC
Visionary
Sphere like mind, spinning round and round. A Blur comes to form, colors racing in aftermath. Simplistic, yet intricate design take place in imagery. Two figures divide from one. They Dance, They Cry, They Sing, They Die. A Pool forms, where the blank figures seem to dissipate. A Creature Approaches the pool, and attempts to drink from the small pond. As this dark creature bends down upon one knee, he sticks his large black hands into the discolored water, claws first. He lets out a shriek, and is pulled in completely. Seconds of silence pass by, and the creature is spat back out from the pool. As he lie down on the ground, color eradicates from his strange body, leaving his body still black, but coating his body in a permanent film of beauty. He proceeds to stand up, but collapses onto his knees. He presses his hand on either side of his head, and screams at the silver crescent in dark sky. So many thoughts. Yet each one being so different from the next. Never had he felt such emotion. His stomach felt as if it were in constant motion. What was wrong with him? He started to question everything, everyone, and even himself. His mind was in a blur. He couldn't keep up. He wanted to Dance, he wanted to Cry, he wanted to Sing, and he wanted to Die. And that was the birthing, of the first of the Bohemians.
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Aug 28, 2013
Aug 28, 2013 at 7:00 PM UTC
Bohemian
He started it at seventeen That most fantastic time machine, Whose power to manipulate The basic fabrics of our fate Eradicates the Clock's control, Who executes the midnight toll, Whose hands have strangled man's ambition, Whose sands designed decomposition, Both talkative and taciturn Now caged; the ravenous cuckoo bird, And man, once puppet, now pilgrim, soars O’er crystal skies and dusty shores And Dimension's seas with waxen wings, His fourth realm wrinkling like a string, Testing theories in time traversed Of history, life, the universe. He finished it at forty-two In subterranean solitude, A pallid, daily de-livered mess With faceless pictures on the desk, So he sighed with earnest evanescence And scuttled back to adolescence, To own the life he would have seen Without that hollow time machine.
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Jun 15, 2012
Jun 15, 2012 at 12:44 AM UTC
Timeless Tragedy
I want love- Not the little love That makes the heart skip, and The face blush. I want to indulge in the Love That ignites the Spirit The love that fills all voids, Heals all grievances, And has no boundaries, No limits, And no preconceived notions. I want the love That is contagious by presence. The love that eradicates insecurities And replaces them with ecstasy, I want the kind of love That sets people free. I don't want the love That beats around the bush. I want the love that bangs down my door, Sets my heart a blaze, And keeps fueling the fire.
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Aug 28, 2015
Aug 28, 2015 at 10:12 AM UTC
I want love
The taste of your skin Remains on my tongue. Your smell Lingers in my nose. Your touch So soft and loving Is burned in my flesh. The warmth of your body Eradicates the slightest chill In my soul. With you I am at peace. I long to feel your touch To hear your voice Whispering Moaning Screaming my name. I long to feel your body Pulsing Jumping Swaying Like the ebb and flow of the ocean Underneath mine. I long for the satisfying reward Of your nails As they rake across my back I long for your teeth on my skin Nibbling at every sensitive spot In my possession. I long to please you With a near primal urge That drives my existence. I long to see your expressions As your eyes cry out in joy In resonance with your body. I long to feel our minds Melting into one As we reach perfect ecstasy With an exclamation of "I love you" I long to hold you in my arms And fall asleep knowing That I belong to you And fall asleep in such comfort I don't ever want to get up I don't ever want to let you go.
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Dec 26, 2013
Dec 26, 2013 at 9:41 AM UTC
Longing
I inhale, And breathe in your skin, Your name flows out of my mouth, It feels good on my lips. Embarrassed I hide my face I look terrible in the morning. But your look eradicates my fear Those chocolate eyes Will drive me to the point of insanity I can see it already. You kiss the freckles on my skin But I’m not worthy of your touch. You’re so ******* perfect. I will never be perfect.
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Dec 13, 2013
Dec 13, 2013 at 10:03 PM UTC
Infatuation
On the wooden frame of this bed Lie all the secrets in my head With the keys to the metaphors Resting in the crystal glass drawers Where illusion is prophecy And the god is hypocrisy Like a soft dream I never dreamed With the terror that never screamed This cradle is the infancy Of the lies of my fallacy So burn the skeleton of rest In the fire within a chest That beams a golden hue of truth And eradicates every tooth Now you shall Speak with no bite Now you shall Sleep with no fight
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Feb 18, 2013
Feb 18, 2013 at 1:46 PM UTC
Now you shall
Painting a black  rainbow underneath  a falling sky, it's mist  consumes and eradicates  your last breath, your  last hope.  They pour the drink  you are forced to drink,  and feed the flesh you  are forced to eat.  Taught to be stupid, and  raised to be nothing,  what's left to do, except  make a noise so loud, fame  will hear you.  Your dreams will tell you what to do.  bang  bang  Congratulations
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Nov 18, 2019
Nov 18, 2019 at 12:19 PM UTC
Infamous
Today, my professor walked out, then back into the classroom When I was young, excitement embodied my soul like an embellished Christmas tree of happiness At that age, I would have created an eminent fabrication, such as walking back into the room eventuates a new beginning or maybe she was melancholy, and walking in and out of a room eradicates her unpleasant mood, like when you move the furniture around your house, in order to adjust a grim, atmospheric emotion This would have been joyfully amusing when I was young Thoughts cascaded from my head and blossoming heart as easy as a raindrop breaking apart when slamming the ground this was a lifetime ago before He jumped off the father train before I spent all free time vacuuming up the pieces of mom’s fragmentized heart now, here I am, nineteen years old executing endless labor to keep our house from running away attempting the role of a second mother to a younger, disconsolate girl repeating the same thing every day, I watch time go by faster than the petals fall off roses when I was young I would have written this poem with exorbitant talent and an eagerness that encompassed the room with remarkable vibrancy but I am nineteen now, sometimes I’m fifty and all I can see, is that my professor walked out, then back into the classroom
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Jul 2, 2013
Jul 2, 2013 at 12:41 PM UTC
A Lifetime Ago
expectation anti-pain reliever for idiots. one true only. walls in the walls of reality. body in loan. foresight crack of "imprisonment". hear one's beat. It is not only our it is also His. nature, cradle and eradicates!
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May 30, 2013
May 30, 2013 at 9:54 PM UTC
_Lullaby of the 3 (o'clock)
why would ever thought become a therefore of being, a parallel pairing, well, i can imagine why, uncertain thinking gave birth and girth of uncertain being, but uncouple thinking from being and couple it to knowledge, how sooner the reminders encountered whereby expressing thinking with being as equal is lost, and thinking after the divorce from being finds a second partner, namely knowledge: and the men who stare at goats? sooner thinking and knowledge coupled than thinking and being, i do know that the former example eradicates thinking per se, but it also leaves us with pure intuition / knowledge / automation, which means less concern for a subsidiary of broken bones and unaffected brains to be worth a coupling - the former attempt eradicates this shadowy narcissism that the latter invigorates with how the outside is already defaulting the inside with c.c.t.v. you will not eat the fruit of the tree of knowing good from evil, since upon eating the fruit you will not think - you will know but will not think - and this will be a demise you will claim to be supreme as the foremost expression adequate - thus upon eating the fruit the wages of your labour you will know more than you desired, and will too think less than could be inspired - not a question of writing a pillar-like autobiography but a question of writing a biography at all.. to eat from a tree of knowledge: whether dual or by mono inspired - serves no bearing - hence the modern fable akin to brothers Aesop and Grimm, that he who eats the fruit of the tree of knowledge will not eat the fruit of the tree of thought, hence the dichotomy rather than a duality, hence the monism rather than the monasticism - and he who eats of the tree of knowledge will look upon a pauper in a scene of agricultural foreboding with much insolence - for he who eats from the tree of knowledge whatever the vector, whether into zenith of good, or whether into the zenith of evil, will know neither being reached, for thought will become the orient conjunction of or being accumulative: that good (thought) will be as puzzle-muddled with evil (knowledge) as may be allow - or as the Libra testifies - that knowledge is evil and thought via continuum narratio is good; but still gladly i too fabricating celestial bodies with a lifespan of cats aged prior to 30 (if pedigree).
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Apr 25, 2016
Apr 25, 2016 at 8:38 PM UTC
caricature of Milton
why would ever thought become a therefore of being, a parallel pairing, well, i can imagine why, uncertain thinking gave birth and girth of uncertain being, but uncouple thinking from being and couple it to knowledge, how sooner the reminders encountered whereby expressing thinking with being as equal is lost, and thinking after the divorce from being finds a second partner, namely knowledge: and the men who stare at goats? sooner thinking and knowledge coupled than thinking and being, i do know that the former example eradicates thinking per se, but it also leaves us with pure intuition / knowledge / automation, which means less concern for a subsidiary of broken bones and unaffected brains to be worth a coupling - the former attempt eradicates this shadowy narcissism that the latter invigorates with how the outside is already defaulting the inside with c.c.t.v. you will not eat the fruit of the tree of knowing good from evil, since upon eating the fruit you will not think - you will know but will not think - and this will be a demise you will claim to be supreme as the foremost expression adequate - thus upon eating the fruit the wages of your labour you will know more than you desired, and will too think less than could be inspired - not a question of writing a pillar-like autobiography but a question of writing a biography at all.. to eat from a tree of knowledge: whether dual or by mono inspired - serves no bearing - hence the modern fable akin to brothers Aesop and Grimm, that he who eats the fruit of the tree of knowledge will not eat the fruit of the tree of thought, hence the dichotomy rather than a duality, hence the monism rather than the monasticism - and he who eats of the tree of knowledge will look upon a pauper in a scene of agricultural foreboding with much insolence - for he who eats from the tree of knowledge whatever the vector, whether into zenith of good, or whether into the zenith of evil, will know neither being reached, for thought will become the orient conjunction of or being accumulative: that good (thought) will be as puzzle-muddled with evil (knowledge) as may be allow - or as the Libra testifies - that knowledge is evil and thought via continuum narratio is good; but still gladly i too fabricating celestial bodies with a lifespan of cats aged prior to 30 (if pedigree).
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My torturous fate solely seduces. Muse, but never mate. Dragged ashore, escaped from destiny, To love each wounded scar. Desire taunts curiosity, whilst love encumbers mine. Seven years kept prisoner on the isle of endless past, Each sensual diversion masks the drifting time, Each embrace marks my eternal days. Devotion flits from his somber eyes Spirituality melting by the hour Our interrupted unison ensnared in glances, Past this pleading stare. My hands built your vessel and fed your bones. My fingertips launched the ship. Yet I am left the sole prisoner, Entrapped in immortality. Poison eradicates flesh, though this hand is not of flesh. Fire purges bone, though this hand is not of bone. I remain the true prisoner. Muse, but never mate.
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Mar 26, 2012
Mar 26, 2012 at 11:12 PM UTC
Muse
I gavel a wooden grave ,For my infancy set my Golden sun over the fields Of repetitive sirens milling In my head and tipping Scales of a blinded saint. Order , order be proclaimed Innocence is to be adjourned And sent to preliminary trials where I constantly seem To look up at minerals Smiling at flashing lights With a chain of mediocrity Like a noose around my neck Declaring the plausibilty Of my golden thread!! Every tick and tock I break away to Dabble in the dark arts Of marketing humanity And turning my eyes Into shop windows ...-Display cases to sell My soul to the masses. Order! I strike down in an attempt To order myself to order!! Confess your sins upon the Lord!! My hand burns strikingly Into charcoal on the light Word of a guiding shepard. Order lies with honour, my Leash prevents me from Tassled pillows and applause And eradicates the whispers Of order in my infernal mind Guilty as charged ,to life With abscence of parole And good it be If searching for love Naked cuffs be Then maybe this life Is not for me Draw your verdict on The tangy taste of my hide As you pleasure yourself At the sight of my downfall Into an endless abbys of Doing wrong things in search of the monogamous Right
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Apr 17, 2014
Apr 17, 2014 at 10:36 PM UTC
Trials sensasionalism
Somtimes My Insane Life Eradicates My Youth. Don't Ask. Real Life Is Not Great. Smile, my darling. Everything works out in the end.
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Oct 20, 2011
Oct 20, 2011 at 9:14 PM UTC
You could be happy.
Spoke to God recently told him I'm lonely told him that my friends keep leaving me that it hurts that I'm feeling weak empty He told me as the anxiety was sinking deep You don't see what I see The beautiful people you shall someday meet There is a future beyond your track record that fills you will disappointment and isolation every time you think - overthink about it But you are not filled with the things you keep telling yourself or defined by your circumstances that seem to confirm your feelings You are filled with me Full of promise and Love that eradicates fear a Lionees that is not waiting to be loved but waiting to be her full powerful beautiful self your loneliness is cured in knowing yourself with Me
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Dec 26, 2018
Dec 26, 2018 at 2:53 PM UTC
Spoke to God about my loneliness