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"everlastingly" poems
It is a beauteous evening, calm and free, The holy time is quiet as a Nun Breathless with adoration; the broad sun Is sinking down in its tranquility; The gentleness of heaven broods o’er the Sea; Listen! the mighty Being is awake, And doth with his eternal motion make A sound like thunder—everlastingly. Dear child! dear Girl! that walkest with me here, If thou appear untouched by solemn thought, Thy nature is not therefore less divine: Thou liest in Abraham’s ***** all the year; And worshipp’st at the Temple’s inner shrine, God being with thee when we know it not.
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4.2k
It Is A Beauteous Evening, Calm And Free
I'm jealous! I'm jealous of the way you see them and not me! I'm jealous of the way you spoil them and not me! I'm jealous! I'm jealous of the air you're breathing with them...and not me! I'm jealous of the distance that's keeping us apart! I'm jealous! My jealousy is superstitious, It's way above us! I wrote you down on a note, trying to connect with you, But instead, I realized the distance between me and you! Continents apart, Oceans apart, So far, yet everlastingly so close! I'm jealous! I'm jealous of the years I missed out on spending with you, I'm jealous! I'm jealous of the times I knew I saw you as something more, but didn't say anything! I'm jealous! My jealousy is ridiculously overwhelming! But to think about getting jealous of you, Gets my soul jealous for my heart being stolen by you! My jealousy is disappearing!
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May 28, 2018
May 28, 2018 at 4:59 PM UTC
I'm Jealous
It is a beauteous evening, calm and free, The holy time is quiet as a Nun Breathless with adoration; the broad sun Is sinking down in its tranquillity; The gentleness of heaven broods o’er the sea: Listen! the mighty Being is awake, And doth with his eternal motion make A sound like thunder—everlastingly. Dear Child! dear Girl! that walkest with me here, If thou appear untouch’d by solemn thought, Thy nature is not therefore less divine: Thou liest in Abraham’s ***** all the year; And worshipp’st at the Temple’s inner shrine, God being with thee when we know it not.
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3.5k
Evening On Calais Beach
(From a Persian Carpet) Ash and strewments, the first moth-wings, pale Ardour of brief evenings, on the fecund wind; Or all a wing, less than wind, Breath of low herbs upfloats, petal or wing, Haunting the musk precincts of burial. For the season of newer riches moves triumphing, Of the evanescence of deaths. These potpourris Earth-tinctured, jet insect-bead, cinder of bloom— How weigh while a great summer knows increase, Ceaselessly risen, what there entombs?— Of candour fallen from the slight stems of Mays, Corrupt of the rim a blue shades, pensively: So a fatigue of wishes will young eyes. And brightened, unpurged eyes of revery, now Not to glance to fabulous groves again! For now deep presence is, and binds its close, And closes down the wreathed alleys escape of sighs. And now rich time is weaving, hidden tree, The fable of orient threads from bough to bough. Old rinded wood, whose lissomeness within Has reached from nothing to its covering These many corymbs’ flourish!—And the green Shells which wait amber, breathing, wrought Towards the still trance of summer’s centering, Motives by ravished humble fingers set, Each in a noon of its own infinite. And here is leant the branch and its repose of the deep leaf to the pilgrim plume. Repose, Inflections brilliant and mute of the voyager, light! And here the nests, and freshet throats resume Notes over and over found, names For the silvery ascensions of joy. Nothing is here But moss and its bells now of the root’s night; But the beetle’s bower, and arc from grass to grass For the flight in gauze. Now its fresh lair, Grass-deep, nestles the cool eft to stir Vague newborn limbs, and the bud’s dark winding has Access of day. Now on the subtle noon Time’s image, at pause with being, labours free Of all its charge, for each in coverts laid, Of clement kind; and everlastingly, In some elision of bright moments is known, Changed wide as Eden, the branch whose silence sways Dazzle of the murmurous leaves to continual tone; Its separations, sighing to own again Being of the ignorant wish; and sways to sight, Waked from it nighted, the marvelous foundlings of light; Risen and weaving from the ceaseless root A divine ease whispers toward fruitfulness, While all a summer’s conscience tempts the fruit.
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2.6k
The Summer Image
(From a Persian Carpet) Ash and strewments, the first moth-wings, pale Ardour of brief evenings, on the fecund wind; Or all a wing, less than wind, Breath of low herbs upfloats, petal or wing, Haunting the musk precincts of burial. For the season of newer riches moves triumphing, Of the evanescence of deaths. These potpourris Earth-tinctured, jet insect-bead, cinder of bloom— How weigh while a great summer knows increase, Ceaselessly risen, what there entombs?— Of candour fallen from the slight stems of Mays, Corrupt of the rim a blue shades, pensively: So a fatigue of wishes will young eyes. And brightened, unpurged eyes of revery, now Not to glance to fabulous groves again! For now deep presence is, and binds its close, And closes down the wreathed alleys escape of sighs. And now rich time is weaving, hidden tree, The fable of orient threads from bough to bough. Old rinded wood, whose lissomeness within Has reached from nothing to its covering These many corymbs’ flourish!—And the green Shells which wait amber, breathing, wrought Towards the still trance of summer’s centering, Motives by ravished humble fingers set, Each in a noon of its own infinite. And here is leant the branch and its repose of the deep leaf to the pilgrim plume. Repose, Inflections brilliant and mute of the voyager, light! And here the nests, and freshet throats resume Notes over and over found, names For the silvery ascensions of joy. Nothing is here But moss and its bells now of the root’s night; But the beetle’s bower, and arc from grass to grass For the flight in gauze. Now its fresh lair, Grass-deep, nestles the cool eft to stir Vague newborn limbs, and the bud’s dark winding has Access of day. Now on the subtle noon Time’s image, at pause with being, labours free Of all its charge, for each in coverts laid, Of clement kind; and everlastingly, In some elision of bright moments is known, Changed wide as Eden, the branch whose silence sways Dazzle of the murmurous leaves to continual tone; Its separations, sighing to own again Being of the ignorant wish; and sways to sight, Waked from it nighted, the marvelous foundlings of light; Risen and weaving from the ceaseless root A divine ease whispers toward fruitfulness, While all a summer’s conscience tempts the fruit.
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51
Dear love, I still remember the first day when we first met. Our first date, my first ever. Every little thing, every small detail; I could still recall it picture-perfectly. Who would’ve thought we could make it this far? Through thick and thin, we’ve been through a lot. We’ve faced both heaven and hell on earth together, and tasted both the sweet and the bitter. Yet my faith for you never falters, nor my love for you ever fades out. Being with you, I’ve learned many things others never taught me before. You taught me how to be a compassionate human being; One who would be willing to go out of their way just for the one they love. You taught me how to be a selfless human being; One who would put down one’s ego and wouldn’t mind who’s right or wrong, One who wouldn’t mind saying sorry and owning up to one’s mistake. You taught me how to be a resilient human being; One who wouldn’t give up so easily. And the most importantly, You taught me how to love and appreciate myself more; One who would wake up to someone relentlessly admiring another’s existence oh-so unconditionally. Whatever it is that life has bestowed upon us, we shall get through the murky, stormy sky. I shall love you until my fleeting vassal turns into nothingness. Everlastingly yours, Detha
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Oct 27, 2017
Oct 27, 2017 at 5:23 AM UTC
Love Letter #6
I walked in loamy Wessex lanes, afar From rail-track and from highway, and I heard In field and farmstead many an ancient word Of local lineage like “Thu bist,” “Er war,” “Ich woll,” “Er sholl,” and by-talk similar, Nigh as they speak who in this month’s moon gird At England’s very ***** thereunto spurred By gangs whose glory threats and slaughters are. Then seemed a Heart crying: “Whosoever they be At root and bottom of this, who flung this flame Between kin folk kin tongued even as are we, Sinister, ugly, lurid, be their fame; May their familiars grow to shun their name, And their brood perish everlastingly.”
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2.2k
The Pity Of It
A man saw the whole world as a grinning skull and cross-bones. The rose flesh of life shriveled from all faces. Nothing counts. Everything is a fake. Dust to dust and ashes to ashes and then an old darkness and a useless silence. So he saw it all. Then he went to a Mischa Elman concert. Two hours waves of sound beat on his eardrums. Music washed something or other inside him. Music broke down and rebuilt something or other in his head and heart. He joined in five encores for the young Russian Jew with the fiddle. When he got outside his heels hit the sidewalk a new way. He was the same man in the same world as before. Only there was a singing fire and a climb of roses everlastingly over the world he looked on.
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2.1k
Bath
Blest pair of Sirens, pledges of Heav’ns joy, Sphear-born harmonious Sisters, Voice, and Vers, Wed your divine sounds, and mixt power employ Dead things with inbreath’d sense able to pierce, And to our high-rais’d phantasie present, That undisturbed Song of pure content, Ay sung before the saphire-colour’d throne To him that sits theron With Saintly shout, and solemn Jubily, Where the bright Seraphim in burning row Their loud up-lifted Angel trumpets blow, And the Cherubick host in thousand quires Touch their immortal Harps of golden wires, With those just Spirits that wear victorious Palms, Hymns devout and holy Psalms Singing everlastingly; That we on Earth with undiscording voice May rightly answer that melodious noise; As once we did, till disproportion’d sin Jarr’d against natures chime, and with harsh din The fair musick that all creatures made To their great Lord, whose love their motion sway’d In perfect Diapason, whilst they stood In first obedience, and their state of good. O may we soon again renew that Song, And keep in tune with Heav’n, till God ere long To his celestial consort us unite, To live with him, and sing in endles morn of light.
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1.9k
At A Solemn Musick
Your hair, its softness makes my heart palpitate rapidly; Your face, its lineaments leave me in the wonder of their rarity; Your eyes, I can stare open-mouthed into them unweariedly; Your lips, I wish I can kiss them constantly; Your hands, I wish I can entwine them with mine eternally. Your mind, it captures me on every occasion thoroughly; Your soul, I can love it everlastingly; Your heart, it belongs only to me, solely; O, my inamorata! Feelings of you will never be dreary.
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Dec 16, 2020
Dec 16, 2020 at 3:57 AM UTC
Your Figure
A void where when your affection dwelled, A gorge profound, where satisfaction withstood. Presently repeats wait, murmurs of agony, A heart uncontrolled, lost in the downpour. I meander through days, a ghost's phantom, Tormented by recollections, a weighty expense. Your giggling, a tune, presently a lament, Your touch, a glow, presently an unpleasant flood. The world appears to be dim, absent any and all shade, An infertile scene, where nothing is new. Each stage a battle, a fatigued situation, Lost in the obscurity, without your light. The evenings are unending, loaded up with despair, An unpleasant quiet, stunning. Your nonappearance, a consistent, a significant burden, Pushing down on me, constantly. I long for your presence, your caring hug, To experience your glow, to see your face. Be that as it may, distance keeps us separated, a horrible declaration, A partition, difficult to see. I look for comfort, everywhere, In any case, track down no solace, no harmony, no Danny. The world appears to be chilly, a relentless machine, Without your adoration, I'm lost, concealed. I attempt to occupy myself, with books and craftsmanship, However, nothing can make up for the shortcoming in my heart. The hurt of yearning, a consistent aggravation, A significant weight, that I can't maintain. I miss your grin, your giggling, your mind, The manner in which you caused me to feel so fit. Your affection was a fortune, a valuable gift, Presently lost everlastingly, an excruciating fracture. I long to hold you, to feel your touch, To realize that our adoration, won't ever be squashed. Be that as it may, destiny has mediated, a brutal wind, Leaving me broken, lost, and uncontrolled. I look for replies, however see as none, Lost in a maze, where trust has gone. The aggravation of partition, a weighty burden, A weight excessively weighty, to be conveyed abroad. I attempt to continue on, yet it's difficult to do, At the point when each memory, carries me to you. The prospect of losing you, perpetually, is a trepidation, That torment my fantasies, a large number of years. I trust sometime in the future, we'll see as our way back, To the adoration we once had, a lovely track. Up to that point, I'll continue, with overwhelming sadness, Expecting a future, where we won't ever part. Thus, I stand by, anxiously, For the day when our adoration will vanquish demise. At the point when we'll be brought together, by and by, What's more, our hearts will retouch, and our adoration will rule.
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Oct 11, 2024
Oct 11, 2024 at 12:46 AM UTC
feling beside you
A void where when your affection dwelled, A gorge profound, where satisfaction withstood. Presently repeats wait, murmurs of agony, A heart uncontrolled, lost in the downpour. I meander through days, a ghost's phantom, Tormented by recollections, a weighty expense. Your giggling, a tune, presently a lament, Your touch, a glow, presently an unpleasant flood. The world appears to be dim, absent any and all shade, An infertile scene, where nothing is new. Each stage a battle, a fatigued situation, Lost in the obscurity, without your light. The evenings are unending, loaded up with despair, An unpleasant quiet, stunning. Your nonappearance, a consistent, a significant burden, Pushing down on me, constantly. I long for your presence, your caring hug, To experience your glow, to see your face. Be that as it may, distance keeps us separated, a horrible declaration, A partition, difficult to see. I look for comfort, everywhere, In any case, track down no solace, no harmony, no Danny. The world appears to be chilly, a relentless machine, Without your adoration, I'm lost, concealed. I attempt to occupy myself, with books and craftsmanship, However, nothing can make up for the shortcoming in my heart. The hurt of yearning, a consistent aggravation, A significant weight, that I can't maintain. I miss your grin, your giggling, your mind, The manner in which you caused me to feel so fit. Your affection was a fortune, a valuable gift, Presently lost everlastingly, an excruciating fracture. I long to hold you, to feel your touch, To realize that our adoration, won't ever be squashed. Be that as it may, destiny has mediated, a brutal wind, Leaving me broken, lost, and uncontrolled. I look for replies, however see as none, Lost in a maze, where trust has gone. The aggravation of partition, a weighty burden, A weight excessively weighty, to be conveyed abroad. I attempt to continue on, yet it's difficult to do, At the point when each memory, carries me to you. The prospect of losing you, perpetually, is a trepidation, That torment my fantasies, a large number of years. I trust sometime in the future, we'll see as our way back, To the adoration we once had, a lovely track. Up to that point, I'll continue, with overwhelming sadness, Expecting a future, where we won't ever part. Thus, I stand by, anxiously, For the day when our adoration will vanquish demise. At the point when we'll be brought together, by and by, What's more, our hearts will retouch, and our adoration will rule.
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52
The sun rises up and the sun sets down But here i am wearing my heart with a frown This christmas breeze frost the air Like it frosted my heart having love thats so unfair I walk in the aisles of madness and woe asking myself do you think of me too? I used to belong to this wildfire of yours But i am just a human and i can no longer take the curse My life would'nt be the same without you to break the ice Moments of fire already gone in my eyes But i still believe letting go of you is the right thing i should do Having you still means i selfishly loves you Thats why i have to wear a mask and keeps on pretending dreaming im flying while my heart is already flooding Flooding with grief and sorrow Worrying myself what will happen tomorrow.. I used to confide to you all my heartaches and pain But now i know i cannot do it again Now i confessed my sorrow in the corner of the leaves of the trees Letting it fly as the wind breeze I am all alone now and still walking in the same path that i've been thru Keeping all my heartaches and my moments of blue letting myself to soar high along the shore Keeping my secrets in the sand where my life has bore My secrets that has been carried away by the wave Where it made my love for you everlastingly unsaved I know i have to stop this emotion in which i felt for you like a fire in my heart where the wind has blew Oh if i could only see you now! In front of you i will make a vow Vow to fight for my love for you even i know that is unfair But here i am sitting wounded in a stair.. Creating a melody of my own Building hatred for what my life had shown But i know until the clock strikes at its last nine I know inside of me i just cannot make you mine!
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Feb 21, 2015
Feb 21, 2015 at 8:17 PM UTC
Frozen Heart
The sun rises up and the sun sets down But here i am wearing my heart with a frown This christmas breeze frost the air Like it frosted my heart having love thats so unfair I walk in the aisles of madness and woe asking myself do you think of me too? I used to belong to this wildfire of yours But i am just a human and i can no longer take the curse My life would'nt be the same without you to break the ice Moments of fire already gone in my eyes But i still believe letting go of you is the right thing i should do Having you still means i selfishly loves you Thats why i have to wear a mask and keeps on pretending dreaming im flying while my heart is already flooding Flooding with grief and sorrow Worrying myself what will happen tomorrow.. I used to confide to you all my heartaches and pain But now i know i cannot do it again Now i confessed my sorrow in the corner of the leaves of the trees Letting it fly as the wind breeze I am all alone now and still walking in the same path that i've been thru Keeping all my heartaches and my moments of blue letting myself to soar high along the shore Keeping my secrets in the sand where my life has bore My secrets that has been carried away by the wave Where it made my love for you everlastingly unsaved I know i have to stop this emotion in which i felt for you like a fire in my heart where the wind has blew Oh if i could only see you now! In front of you i will make a vow Vow to fight for my love for you even i know that is unfair But here i am sitting wounded in a stair.. Creating a melody of my own Building hatred for what my life had shown But i know until the clock strikes at its last nine I know inside of me i just cannot make you mine!
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36
I often wonder whether in those books you read you ever read my name between the lines like an unexpected gift or unfortunate rift like a rifle aimed at you or flowers handed to you do you ever feel like I am there? staring back at your weary eyes do you ever stop and think back? the love we never got to share... a poisonous thought, come evening I wonder and wonder and wander to you, the birthmark on your wrist the poems you write, the meaning you twist between the lines did you ever wonder? quietude of love everlastingly beautiful rambunctious excitement effervescent life never, yet, the twain shall meet between the lines did you ever wonder about me?
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Apr 29, 2024
Apr 29, 2024 at 11:17 AM UTC
between the lines
I can’t stop. I won’t stop. The thoughts keep coming, keep pouring into my head. I wish I could forget, and move on forever and ever more: to be everlastingly happy. But I can’t. They keep coming. They won’t stop. They can’t stop. They keep coming, keep pouring into my head. The stress is not worth my time, my energy. They make me negative. They make my world cold. I am doubtful of myself, and these thoughts remind me. They can’t stop. They won’t stop.
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Jan 13, 2014
Jan 13, 2014 at 4:28 PM UTC
Can't Stop
I love you. Three words no wider than four letters long That carry the whole weight of the universe. Words we utter to each other so often, Bystanders would consider them disingenuous. But, baby, I mean every syllable. When I look into your eyes, When I watch you watching me, My breath catches And my heart feels oversized. I try so hard to personify my love for you In kisses, hugs, tugs, and strokes, But kisses and hugs are created by candy makers And tugs and strokes are done by artists. Both of which, I most certainly am not. However, I strive to convey my feelings for you, Because I am sure of few things but this: I am madly, Ferociously, Unbelievably, Relentlessly, Incandescently, Everlastingly In love with you. I love you with a love that has never been given From any other woman to a man. I love you with an immortal love That is once-in-a-lifetime And can never be repeated. Our love is holy, Unconditional. I. LOVE. YOU.
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Jun 26, 2013
Jun 26, 2013 at 7:46 PM UTC
I. LOVE. YOU.
The smell of ink and abandonment lingered in the air as I stepped inside the room we had scarred. Dust has found a home at last - a place where all your faults were accepted and my hope was never questioned. This is where we hold our entire world. This is where each second lasts everlastingly. This is where forever lives. Tissues slept on the floor like confetti for my return mixed with crippled promises you have dropped and forgotten.The bedsheet lay awake, exhausted, weary, heaving the sigh you exhaled in a lock room - the smell of your desire, of my frustration, of our longing, of my name. I wonder if they had kept your heartbeat. I wonder if I could have it back. I wonder if I could have you back. The silence had preserved every single thing you have uttered - every word a bar, each sentence another lock. Your voice hanged themselves on the cobwebs, the cobwebs had consumed the space and you had filled me with wishes, longing and regrets. I have never expected you to say hello again. I certainly never shall. You never did. You never will. We slept in our mask and redressed in denial. Forever is still etched on the atmosphere. I can feel you touching the small of my back, paving your way through my spine, reaching your way to where the burnt maps, love letters, crumpled clothes and drawn out nights were. I can feel you possessing my nape. I can hear you whispering my name. I can see you piercing the night. Why do always you have to be so wonderful? The scars you have etched on my skin breathe like stars on the pillows you have wounded. They glowed longingly for that smell of yours they’re acquianted with. They stood beyond eternity. The inteminable look in your eyes before you sleep had tampered the wallpapers - the audience of those nights we own, when everything was forgotten, including the world. The story of what if and what could have been filled the space between us - never allowing my arms to cling around your neck, never wanting you to kiss my ear, shielding you to find us on the swell between my ******* The clock had stopped working. At least it won’t steal my time. Maybe I can sleep tonight. Maybe we can be infinite.
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Apr 16, 2013
Apr 16, 2013 at 4:41 PM UTC
My name is Memory
The smell of ink and abandonment lingered in the air as I stepped inside the room we had scarred. Dust has found a home at last - a place where all your faults were accepted and my hope was never questioned. This is where we hold our entire world. This is where each second lasts everlastingly. This is where forever lives. Tissues slept on the floor like confetti for my return mixed with crippled promises you have dropped and forgotten.The bedsheet lay awake, exhausted, weary, heaving the sigh you exhaled in a lock room - the smell of your desire, of my frustration, of our longing, of my name. I wonder if they had kept your heartbeat. I wonder if I could have it back. I wonder if I could have you back. The silence had preserved every single thing you have uttered - every word a bar, each sentence another lock. Your voice hanged themselves on the cobwebs, the cobwebs had consumed the space and you had filled me with wishes, longing and regrets. I have never expected you to say hello again. I certainly never shall. You never did. You never will. We slept in our mask and redressed in denial. Forever is still etched on the atmosphere. I can feel you touching the small of my back, paving your way through my spine, reaching your way to where the burnt maps, love letters, crumpled clothes and drawn out nights were. I can feel you possessing my nape. I can hear you whispering my name. I can see you piercing the night. Why do always you have to be so wonderful? The scars you have etched on my skin breathe like stars on the pillows you have wounded. They glowed longingly for that smell of yours they’re acquianted with. They stood beyond eternity. The inteminable look in your eyes before you sleep had tampered the wallpapers - the audience of those nights we own, when everything was forgotten, including the world. The story of what if and what could have been filled the space between us - never allowing my arms to cling around your neck, never wanting you to kiss my ear, shielding you to find us on the swell between my ******* The clock had stopped working. At least it won’t steal my time. Maybe I can sleep tonight. Maybe we can be infinite.
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11
Our moments together were An inconvenience for both, Necessity for neither, Desired only by me. I was a stupid, little girl. I need not hold back tears My ducts for you dried out When my Faith, love, and trust Ebbed away with Disappointing and lackluster years Dropped down a bottomless pit Your ability to ignore My existence remains Ever admirable While my sentiments remain Everlastingly indifferent I'm a cold-natured soul When you're an old man You will think back on the days You wasted our time, And turned a blind eye You'll wonder why your only begotten child left your life If you are lucky enough to reach an age of old A numbness so comfortable Unspeakably whole On your deathbed Peacefully waiting The departure of your soul Notice, I won't be there I've turned a blind eye. Oh, father, you've taught me too well
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May 14, 2013
May 14, 2013 at 9:54 PM UTC
Blind Eye (You've Taught Me Too Well)
A legion of children enveloped us that day, / Their presence transparent beneath rays of sun baptismal. / As the chirp of laughter infiltrated the air, / There enclaved in their omnipresent mist, / Passion blossomed in this juvenescent heart. / Gleaming these eyes sauntered your luminescent skin, / Pining for that rapture that lay betwixt your arms. / Although roving within for clarity in words, / This burgeoning vessel trembled in loss, / For fugitive they stood in my subconscious. / Yearning for more than the caress of your voice, / Its musicality enough to serenade for all time, / And the flawless rhythm of this heartbeat / Whispered intently of something divine / For this keepsake of yours -is immortal.- / Even now nostalgia cleaves as an arrow, / -Piercing to the soul- / And it screams to be nurtured. / Blooming in reminiscence I conjure dreams immemorial, / Returning to that hallowed sanctuary. / Your countenance is a distant glint, now untraceable; / Marred by elapsed time, that insidious decay. / My agony has become a vast sea, / Besieged by the maelstrom of lament / For my undying piety is all that remains./ A language too grand to be deciphered / By such an infantile mind, / Yet now I pensively ponder, "Will you ever return?" / I would relinquish my soul to gaze once more / Upon your grace my Materialista. / Life has become a heavy haze, / Occupied by a discordant melisma of pain. / And this memento -without you- is my torture stake, / For the moment we held hands has bound me forevermore; / And I stand here everlastingly, yearning for your arms. /
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Jul 3, 2016
Jul 3, 2016 at 1:40 PM UTC
Desiderata Materialista Transcendentalista (Originally Written on Wednesday, February 4th, 2015)
A legion of children enveloped us that day, / Their presence transparent beneath rays of sun baptismal. / As the chirp of laughter infiltrated the air, / There enclaved in their omnipresent mist, / Passion blossomed in this juvenescent heart. / Gleaming these eyes sauntered your luminescent skin, / Pining for that rapture that lay betwixt your arms. / Although roving within for clarity in words, / This burgeoning vessel trembled in loss, / For fugitive they stood in my subconscious. / Yearning for more than the caress of your voice, / Its musicality enough to serenade for all time, / And the flawless rhythm of this heartbeat / Whispered intently of something divine / For this keepsake of yours -is immortal.- / Even now nostalgia cleaves as an arrow, / -Piercing to the soul- / And it screams to be nurtured. / Blooming in reminiscence I conjure dreams immemorial, / Returning to that hallowed sanctuary. / Your countenance is a distant glint, now untraceable; / Marred by elapsed time, that insidious decay. / My agony has become a vast sea, / Besieged by the maelstrom of lament / For my undying piety is all that remains./ A language too grand to be deciphered / By such an infantile mind, / Yet now I pensively ponder, "Will you ever return?" / I would relinquish my soul to gaze once more / Upon your grace my Materialista. / Life has become a heavy haze, / Occupied by a discordant melisma of pain. / And this memento -without you- is my torture stake, / For the moment we held hands has bound me forevermore; / And I stand here everlastingly, yearning for your arms. /
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35
The day is dark and the night To him that would search their heart; No lips of cloud that will part Nor morning song in the light: Only, gazing alone, To him wild shadows are shown, Deep under deep unknown And height above unknown height. Still we say as we go,— “Strange to think by the way, Whatever there is to know, That shall we know one day.” The Past is over and fled; Nam’d new, we name it the old; Thereof some tale hath been told, But no word comes from the dead; Whether at all they be, Or whether as bond or free, Or whether they too were we, Or by what spell they have sped. Still we say as we go,— “Strange to think by the way, Whatever there is to know, That shall we know one day.” What of the heart of hate That beats in thy breast, O Time?— Red strife from the furthest prime, And anguish of fierce debate; War that shatters her slain, And peace that grinds them as grain, And eyes fix’d ever in vain On the pitiless eyes of Fate. Still we say as we go,— “Strange to think by the way, Whatever there is to know, That shall we know one day.” What of the heart of love That bleeds in thy breast, O Man?— Thy kisses snatch’d ’neath the ban Of fangs that mock them above; Thy bells prolong’d unto knells, Thy hope that a breath dispels, Thy bitter forlorn farewells And the empty echoes thereof? Still we say as we go,— “Strange to think by the way, Whatever there is to know, That shall we know one day.” The sky leans dumb on the sea, Aweary with all its wings; And oh! the song the sea sings Is dark everlastingly. Our past is clean forgot, Our present is and is not, Our future’s a seal’d seedplot, And what betwixt them are we?— We who say as we go,— “Strange to think by the way, Whatever there is to know, That shall we know one day.”
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981
The Cloud Confines
The day is dark and the night To him that would search their heart; No lips of cloud that will part Nor morning song in the light: Only, gazing alone, To him wild shadows are shown, Deep under deep unknown And height above unknown height. Still we say as we go,— “Strange to think by the way, Whatever there is to know, That shall we know one day.” The Past is over and fled; Nam’d new, we name it the old; Thereof some tale hath been told, But no word comes from the dead; Whether at all they be, Or whether as bond or free, Or whether they too were we, Or by what spell they have sped. Still we say as we go,— “Strange to think by the way, Whatever there is to know, That shall we know one day.” What of the heart of hate That beats in thy breast, O Time?— Red strife from the furthest prime, And anguish of fierce debate; War that shatters her slain, And peace that grinds them as grain, And eyes fix’d ever in vain On the pitiless eyes of Fate. Still we say as we go,— “Strange to think by the way, Whatever there is to know, That shall we know one day.” What of the heart of love That bleeds in thy breast, O Man?— Thy kisses snatch’d ’neath the ban Of fangs that mock them above; Thy bells prolong’d unto knells, Thy hope that a breath dispels, Thy bitter forlorn farewells And the empty echoes thereof? Still we say as we go,— “Strange to think by the way, Whatever there is to know, That shall we know one day.” The sky leans dumb on the sea, Aweary with all its wings; And oh! the song the sea sings Is dark everlastingly. Our past is clean forgot, Our present is and is not, Our future’s a seal’d seedplot, And what betwixt them are we?— We who say as we go,— “Strange to think by the way, Whatever there is to know, That shall we know one day.”
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60
you came to me at a time in my life when i needed it the most, for it was literal life or death, though neither of us really knew that then. i didn't know what hit me until later on, when you mailed me your journal and trusted me with the deepest darkest terrifyingly beautiful parts of you. when i gave you endless warnings about how difficult i am to have around and you put your hands in the air and said i don't care. i love you. i'm choosing to stay. it was like i was waiting all my life to have someone say those words and actually mean them. you meant them. i have, to this day, never met anyone so completely compassionate, sensitive, intriguing, magnetic, inspiring, funny, self aware, hopeful, wise, intelligent, unconditionally loving, and forgiving as you. i often find it difficult to write about you because i become so frustrated when i attempt to come up with the right words to accurately capture how much i love you. let me just say: there are no words for this. words words words i need words to describe how everlastingly thankful i am to have met you, how you have taught me more about what it means to be a woman than my own mother, how God heals me through your love and undying support. how i've regained so much of my self worth by having you around, reminding me who i am and how important it is to remember who you are, each and every day. this is not like any other love i have ever known. this is pure, this is real, this is rare. distance is the only thing that separates us, but even that fails to keep us apart. i miss you i miss you i miss you i love you i love you i love you you are the most precious creature i have ever had the privilege to know. i will see you soon, love.
0
Sep 6, 2013
Sep 6, 2013 at 2:39 AM UTC
116 days
you came to me at a time in my life when i needed it the most, for it was literal life or death, though neither of us really knew that then. i didn't know what hit me until later on, when you mailed me your journal and trusted me with the deepest darkest terrifyingly beautiful parts of you. when i gave you endless warnings about how difficult i am to have around and you put your hands in the air and said i don't care. i love you. i'm choosing to stay. it was like i was waiting all my life to have someone say those words and actually mean them. you meant them. i have, to this day, never met anyone so completely compassionate, sensitive, intriguing, magnetic, inspiring, funny, self aware, hopeful, wise, intelligent, unconditionally loving, and forgiving as you. i often find it difficult to write about you because i become so frustrated when i attempt to come up with the right words to accurately capture how much i love you. let me just say: there are no words for this. words words words i need words to describe how everlastingly thankful i am to have met you, how you have taught me more about what it means to be a woman than my own mother, how God heals me through your love and undying support. how i've regained so much of my self worth by having you around, reminding me who i am and how important it is to remember who you are, each and every day. this is not like any other love i have ever known. this is pure, this is real, this is rare. distance is the only thing that separates us, but even that fails to keep us apart. i miss you i miss you i miss you i love you i love you i love you you are the most precious creature i have ever had the privilege to know. i will see you soon, love.
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48
It is a beauteous Evening, calm and free; The holy time is quiet as a Nun Breathless with adoration; the broad sun Is sinking down in its tranquillity; The gentleness of heaven broods on the Sea: Listen! the mighty Being is awake And doth with his eternal motion make A sound like thunder−everlastingly. Dear Child! dear Girl! that walkest with me here, If thou appear untouched by solemn thought, Thy nature is not therefore less divine: Thou liest in Abraham's ***** all the year; And worshipp'st at the Temple's inner shrine, God being with thee when we know it not.
0
Mar 31, 2012
Mar 31, 2012 at 11:28 PM UTC
wordsworth
the cup is filled to the brim of blood the silver chalice lies in her hands hear the drip droning from the enslaved licks the perimeter once for good luck the skin of the devil crawls as she takes your cup and with her black skinned sunglasses hisses down your blood licking the stains of life slowly her tongue probes from her lips the scorpion tipped tongue crawls around slowly everlastingly she scuffles the chalice the bottomless serenade swept aside that scorpion tipped tongue glances and the fearless devil shrinks down a size a new empress slithers into the throne forever enshrined and hailed as she licks the slivers of your blood from the plush thorn-bush lips of love with her black skinned sunglasses hissing
0
Sep 9, 2015
Sep 9, 2015 at 10:37 PM UTC
we all run
I've never been one for romance For so long that's been my stance With attempts to avoid what caught my eye Which we both find now to be a lie I've shared with you my favourite place Where we can both come when we need space I now prefer it everlastingly more Even the comforting silence cannot bore Spontaneous moments call for plans While I hope this won't get out of my hands Since I crave to know I'm in control Your "Forever" isn't quite my goal
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Apr 26, 2015
Apr 26, 2015 at 2:17 PM UTC
You're Too Invested In Me
Omnipotent, audacious in power. A craving I hold, though intangible to my fingers. Able to bellow with ions of energetic magnificence and allow power and eternity to pass through. So strong. I am not. Immortal, suffering throughout, inner galactic warfare wages on beneath my crackling skin and steams out my pores. Cursed to bleed eternally, withering into a shape made of dust that would but blow away if not that it were nailed to the ground. Undying, undamaged, eternally ****** to live. I am. Omniscient, vastly knowing, swimming in the sea of a mind, aware of such actions that could overthrow a universe, but would falter in awareness that it need not act pointlessly. So full of self control. I am not. Alone, wanting, hoping, reaching out to a father and a creator of whom I wish I could love. Clawing with infected stubs at a ghost. I pass through untouched by the divine and am left hallow. My emptiness providing my only company. Cast out amongst the endless decay of happiness, dark pain fills my hovel. I am. Omnipresent, existing amongst all things. Spatially filling the gaps of the universe, existing thoroughly and throughout. Seeing and hearing and understanding. Procreating happiness in the minds of the hopeful. Bringing purity into the world with eternal hands, and spreading it throughout the cosmos. So present. I am not. Banished, outcast to lead a sorrowful existence. Cursed by meaningless actions that could not prevail and see the light of anything. Walking an untraveled path that I alone must aimlessly stumble across. Blistering feet bleed and crack beneath a decimated body. Everlastingly succumbed to Hell. I am. A God. A powerful being that could not but shine His holiness on the universe. An entity that could make the multiverse bow before his divinity. Who could spread his arms and cast a deafening roar of purity. His spirit, floating through the minds of his children. A deity, blessed with the power of creation and given the job of fulfilling such desires. I am not. I am an outcast. An unwanted empathizer of evil. Master of the demons that crawl beneath your withering and faltering mind, finding sustenance in the sin of a world full of hatred and wrong. Bringing whole worlds to their knees and casting away any angel who dare spread his wings before me. Willing to rip off the feathers and burn them so that I may cook the pain and swallow it. Allowing the pain to seed itself into my system and metabolize into something I call a soul. I am no god. I am not God. I am the Devil.
0
May 28, 2014
May 28, 2014 at 6:39 PM UTC
I am; I am not
Omnipotent, audacious in power. A craving I hold, though intangible to my fingers. Able to bellow with ions of energetic magnificence and allow power and eternity to pass through. So strong. I am not. Immortal, suffering throughout, inner galactic warfare wages on beneath my crackling skin and steams out my pores. Cursed to bleed eternally, withering into a shape made of dust that would but blow away if not that it were nailed to the ground. Undying, undamaged, eternally ****** to live. I am. Omniscient, vastly knowing, swimming in the sea of a mind, aware of such actions that could overthrow a universe, but would falter in awareness that it need not act pointlessly. So full of self control. I am not. Alone, wanting, hoping, reaching out to a father and a creator of whom I wish I could love. Clawing with infected stubs at a ghost. I pass through untouched by the divine and am left hallow. My emptiness providing my only company. Cast out amongst the endless decay of happiness, dark pain fills my hovel. I am. Omnipresent, existing amongst all things. Spatially filling the gaps of the universe, existing thoroughly and throughout. Seeing and hearing and understanding. Procreating happiness in the minds of the hopeful. Bringing purity into the world with eternal hands, and spreading it throughout the cosmos. So present. I am not. Banished, outcast to lead a sorrowful existence. Cursed by meaningless actions that could not prevail and see the light of anything. Walking an untraveled path that I alone must aimlessly stumble across. Blistering feet bleed and crack beneath a decimated body. Everlastingly succumbed to Hell. I am. A God. A powerful being that could not but shine His holiness on the universe. An entity that could make the multiverse bow before his divinity. Who could spread his arms and cast a deafening roar of purity. His spirit, floating through the minds of his children. A deity, blessed with the power of creation and given the job of fulfilling such desires. I am not. I am an outcast. An unwanted empathizer of evil. Master of the demons that crawl beneath your withering and faltering mind, finding sustenance in the sin of a world full of hatred and wrong. Bringing whole worlds to their knees and casting away any angel who dare spread his wings before me. Willing to rip off the feathers and burn them so that I may cook the pain and swallow it. Allowing the pain to seed itself into my system and metabolize into something I call a soul. I am no god. I am not God. I am the Devil.
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10
An aching agonizing anguish Breathlessly breaks bonds Coldly constantly cracks Dread's distant deathlike deeds Eerily everlastingly endlessly Float flying frostily Growing greedy Hauntingly horrific Immensely insane Just joylessly jailed Killing kindlessness Lying lovelessly losing life Missing my misfit mourning mind Now nowhere near new naturality Over old objects or obsessions Priceless piercing pain Quiet quarrels Rusting rage restless reaped rationalizations Silent scary severed soul's sorrowful secrets sink sadly sighing softly Tasteless tears torn trust Unknown unloved unforgiving Veiled vying vacant vengeance Worse wild wordless wispy white worried winding whispers Xenomorphic Yesterdays Zero zoetic zest Please comment I love to read other people's interpretations of my work :)
0
Oct 18, 2014
Oct 18, 2014 at 3:58 AM UTC
Alphabetical alliteral aching