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"eutony" poems
I am wild, my akushla, a solivigant. But you are a cynefin. Your kalon conceives resfeber in me. Beasts rumble within like brontide, they chant of redamancy, my trouvaille. The dragoman drew me to you Speaking of yugen the susurruss mountains they cured my atelphobia Submontane caves where our lights baltered among the selcouth crystals Reminding me of basorexic spoondrift breaking the moonglades you adore, my fellow parallian. Perhaps it was boyish werifesteria or maybe I was selenotropic to fall in love with a gentle boobook ever so finifugal when we speak But I feel filipendulous when abendrot bows for advesperacit You sometimes consider it sphalolaliah, my words, going ever on and on, But I’ll learn your lagom, if you give me time
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Feb 2, 2018
Feb 2, 2018 at 8:53 PM UTC
Eutony (a poem full of interesting & obscure words)
i wish to touch the bits of you that endure my dirt. i wish more than ever the shape of your face in the curve of my long and twisted fingers. there's something about it that make my hands okay to look at again. like they may have a found a fitful purpose, caressing the demon mouth that kisses my angel teeth, residing underneath my loved lips that send trips to your words. they encase your bright eyes and devour the confidence left in them. but what i meant to say was, i see your bright eyes showing fight to the fence that you build so high. i can see the lies shine like a light was tied , just for me to breach them. just so i could teach them, you are one to beat them. even though its you who seeds them. emitting the aroma of tainted goodness and its all okay because of the eutony of this all. these words can break my fall. if i make the call, and summon the space, my soul will come and take the place of the weak face i can no longer sonder, anymore in the background of your filled up recognitions. there's no space for my sad face. there's no place for my heart ache. sent into solivagance. this is a dark red redamancy, one of a curse. the birth of our breakage started at the first touch of a sacred unto a scarred soul. and she cried finding nothing but an empty black hole, in return. forever churned in a lustuous magnetism. a love prison. its something that buries itself beneath all the logic in my heart, creeping from underneath my sins. its some kind of wonder, beckoning the birth rights of every death in my future. [ it's some kind of mutual case of kalopsia. ] Of all the questions that beg my being, why do my fingers still only look straight when they're resting on your rigid face ?
0
Dec 13, 2013
Dec 13, 2013 at 11:10 PM UTC
my mizpah
i wish to touch the bits of you that endure my dirt. i wish more than ever the shape of your face in the curve of my long and twisted fingers. there's something about it that make my hands okay to look at again. like they may have a found a fitful purpose, caressing the demon mouth that kisses my angel teeth, residing underneath my loved lips that send trips to your words. they encase your bright eyes and devour the confidence left in them. but what i meant to say was, i see your bright eyes showing fight to the fence that you build so high. i can see the lies shine like a light was tied , just for me to breach them. just so i could teach them, you are one to beat them. even though its you who seeds them. emitting the aroma of tainted goodness and its all okay because of the eutony of this all. these words can break my fall. if i make the call, and summon the space, my soul will come and take the place of the weak face i can no longer sonder, anymore in the background of your filled up recognitions. there's no space for my sad face. there's no place for my heart ache. sent into solivagance. this is a dark red redamancy, one of a curse. the birth of our breakage started at the first touch of a sacred unto a scarred soul. and she cried finding nothing but an empty black hole, in return. forever churned in a lustuous magnetism. a love prison. its something that buries itself beneath all the logic in my heart, creeping from underneath my sins. its some kind of wonder, beckoning the birth rights of every death in my future. [ it's some kind of mutual case of kalopsia. ] Of all the questions that beg my being, why do my fingers still only look straight when they're resting on your rigid face ?
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75
Loving you was both ineffable and unendurable I felt a hiraeth for your heart As you had already set mine aquiver Your voice sounded so mellifluous and sonorous That it was almost nefarious The epoch of while I looked at you I knew this wasn’t limerence And every day I prayed for serendipity You were ethereal So much so that it seemed almost illicit You smelt of petrichor Maybe it was just my glasses That made you look iridescent And made you look like you were luminescent I didn’t need to rub my eyes to sense phosphines When you were near me Because although the time I got to spend with you was ephemeral It sent me into oblivion Because I was convinced this was yuanfen It kind of made me feel like defenestrating you You made me go through metanoia The thought of you was eunoia I guess what I’m trying to say is I’m ******* in love with you
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Sep 23, 2015
Sep 23, 2015 at 3:16 PM UTC
Eutony
The feel of feathers on my skin is enough to drag me in, Into the place where only you and I dwell I dream of laughing with you It kills me to know that dream can never come true Without you the world I'm living in looks like hell The eutony of your name brings tears to my eyes I want to run my fingers through your hair I reminisce on how we used to tease the other Tickling and taunting one another Now when I see people kissing all I can do is stare When you left I went numb Food was without taste I felt like projecting any effort would be an utter waste The kitchen sink is leaking Water is dripping onto the floor I'd ask you to fix it, but you're here no more I remember how you used to kiss the tears as they ran down my cheeks And the way you kissed me after you hadn't seen me in weeks I hate that you're gone But I'm happy I got to live some of my life with you There's a love that remains and its a love that's true
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Dec 17, 2013
Dec 17, 2013 at 11:20 PM UTC
Saudade