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"eviscerating" poems
Miscommunication serendipity, anticipation, blurred reality - lost in the dialect of a dream, in pursuit of Love find callous irony; subversion of desire what's it all about? to know and be known. Mere seconds of scrutiny inferior, I am shown. Her appraisal eviscerating my warm flesh, her tilted criteria supplanting the interior, voluble with saccharine neologisms and preferences for the exterior. (not mine) Ironic was my attraction to her brain. Lines, features and symmetry, image - the commodity, aesthetics, the currency in this transaction, cursory liaison, incendiary, collapse of the insurgent ego - there was no us in the the affair of nothingness. Bruised in abasement, I'm not the one -   I thought I was. Hyperbole - the center of delusion, a curious diversion - avoid my life. The allure of the illusion, transference, the ordinary to the romantic, the perfect other. Searching, the absorbing project - aquiring wholeness, did she reject me? I rejected me. The escape into fraudulent sadness, to mourn, is to displace, the disowned heart by self is tragic.   Should I not mourn for the one I'm deferring? Inside of me It's safe, to lament the loss of identity - tension is agony without resolve sequestered, in my pain, self-imposed familiar terrain, upon retrieval, awaking in renewal, mystery and destiny providentially, I am free.
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Feb 14, 2012
Feb 14, 2012 at 8:08 PM UTC
Miss Communication
**A lecherous demeanor burnt the tongue, like cheesy solicitations in antagonistic ruminations of ventured conjecture, churning sputtered calculations, a tactile exercise     in the biting tang  of eviscerating maceration regurgitating bitter sediment, unctuous residue    slid down the throat, the aftertaste remained    long after it was digested**
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Jul 13, 2015
Jul 13, 2015 at 8:08 PM UTC
Bitter indigestion
Violent clangs echo From the TV, And the Bride is a Vengeful gazelle, Galloping forth and eviscerating the ones who stand in her path to---         **** Bill again?                  Is that all you do when I’m gone? Snort          Coke, get high, lounge back          And watch this ********* **** The cigarette burns hot in her fingers, Smoke sighing from her lungs and She smiles silently. Plum lips pucker And one hand beckons him forth, the other raising a silent finger. Skin tight yellow and black Hugs her curves and she triumphs, golden goddess Reclaiming herself in a Blazen trail of ****** Revenge.       “Come on, I’ve been gone and now         I’m here. I’ve missed ******* you        And hearing your pretty little moans.” Ashes on her pant leg, feet flex and She rises up, eyes fixed on the screen. Cat eyes smirk and she takes his hand, Dark bob razor sharp as she dreams About the day she’ll wield the katana.
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Mar 2, 2016
Mar 2, 2016 at 3:18 PM UTC
**** Bill
I wept. For my love had ceased to exist at that moment. Before me stood an imposter; a false idol - With a form identical to the elegance and splendor of Hers, But whose eyes stared through me with no warmth Eyes that gave me no hope for a future worth forging, Eyes that dart through my heart- tearing and shattering All that is and was. I no longer weep. Memories leading up to the moment, Find themselves everyday in thoughts. Eviscerating heart and mind again and again And again and again. I can not weep.
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Jul 8, 2023
Jul 8, 2023 at 2:36 PM UTC
NUMB
Unimposing to the objects around. Visualizing each item with vivid detail. Haunting the forgotten sleeping synapse. Hidden deep within the fiber. Feeling lungs cascading violently. Sundering pops of adrenaline punctuate. Shadows cast doubt over courage. Crossed eyes seeing double vision. Tranquility forbid the beating heart. Shaken steadily upon each migraine. Broken toe acting subtle. Windows eviscerating the light. Dimming color and pigments alike. Dancing brave the wildly fire. Black and blue, mildly haze. Images of demon and ghoul take the hour. Sickened sunken skeletal room. White tiles caress coldly as ice. Air circulates with grim agenda. Hands riddled with obnoxious arthritis. Brooming the dust, sweeping the fear. The beautiful black steed champions it away. Red are the hoofs painting the scene. Vaporizing the light by any means. Delegating everything entirely serene. Shootingstar, throttling deemed. Brilliant cloud looming so high. Setting the Sun into the sky. Benevolent brother opposing shy. Sorcering wisdom allowing to fly. Devilish the Moon, waking my eye.
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Aug 16, 2016
Aug 16, 2016 at 11:20 PM UTC
Dark Room
Standing on the razors edge Is eviscerating to the souls If you stand there long enough Eventually you find the architecture on which you stand From the razors edge You can get perspective As I peered into the underworld I saw ambivalence I then turned and peered into the living world I saw the same I stood there a little longer You bleed to feel alive Peered back into the underworld Ambivalence was gone I got a wink, a like That was curious Turned and peered into the living world Another wink, another like I needed to restructure Nonsensical Maybe the universe did give a **** I had not found my bearings I did find my authentic self What I saw was that my stories mattered If I did not restructure my stories I was going to die and life would be meaningless More or less However, if I let my storytelling gene Fully express itself I could make important changes It's a Wonderful Life
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Oct 17, 2014
Oct 17, 2014 at 10:29 PM UTC
Losing Your Bearings
My body was a temple and they ruined it Pounded it down with each ****** Destroying my kingdom of freedom Eviscerating my peace of mind With their doomed swords.
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Oct 5, 2014
Oct 5, 2014 at 9:54 AM UTC
Untitled
Corroding at the essence of what had been, leaves wilted scorched by the white. It was but a far away moment now colliding upon our onyx reality. No thought of that which echoed in the distance a difference to our perspective. but now absorbing all that was delicate obsidian, eviscerating all substance now bleached from known existence. All we were was eroding away, flowers blossomed but wilted upon the sight above, diluted our shadows were not as they were. All that was will soon be but a blank slate no longer the beauty that was obscurity.
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Jun 12, 2016
Jun 12, 2016 at 2:06 PM UTC
Obsidian Was Being Bleached Into Oblivion
She laughed with disapproval Glittered motion sickness I grabbed a her head tossed her hard enough so I can be dead The **** came on-a charging angry I took his limbs he discarded all my paperwork tons of scribbling years of failing Weakened from dreaming Wandering in the dark while the mice weren’t making any peeping He said I can’t breathe but my lungs were blacker than his death I’ll let them shoot me in the back and maybe I wouldn’t mind it I figured it would be allright  I don’t have tryophobia ****** so many ***** but I didn’t get the job The moon is bright in the sky yet you’re not smart I keep writing on trees but please believe me I already have arthritis before thirty Standing and eviscerating I keep writing on everything they try to stop me but I hold back They were chilling and waiting on his death bed Said the last rites but he already knew they loved him I don’t know my write from the wrong doing He’s finally accepted how life jerks you off the wrong way I think I got graphomania
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Dec 7, 2014
Dec 7, 2014 at 6:30 AM UTC
Graphomania
The irresolvable contradiction, in whose subconscious formula this current absurd-impossible World is immersed, first it turns into non-existence, then it organically emerges into the stagnant Nothingness. The ostrich-faithful gangs of yampecs, like the circus associations of the self-deceivers, seem to even play together a little in the manner of accomplices in the intercontinental businesses of gamblers - because a restless, wandering Soul has long since become a cat and has been tempting the son of man, because there is no partiality, no special difference in a prolonged, incessant Sisyphusian fall. It feels the numbing cracks of the rotting decompositions, while those who remain on the surface are constantly eviscerating the last pennies and silver coins from the pockets of the simpler, working average; Even pitifully degrading bureaucratic wisdom cannot be quite adequate these days: dignity and existence exclude each other just as feudal lords exclude a compromising servant. Free-thinking is not at all chic these days, they are quite calmly content with merely the illusion of truth as long as possible. Now imported idolatry is becoming more and more popular again, but very much so. Because in the guaranteed transitional age, no one and nothing can be themselves, or the same as they were as long as the laws of humanism were observed, the message of conscious blind indifference seems to have been deliberately transplanted into another blind world. Like startled fish embryos, apocryphal passwords glide, wrinkles write the warning message on the secret prison walls of faces: "Pay attention, and rather hide in hiding!" - Every circle must organically close at some point. The wasted seasons are no longer waiting for a silver star ready to wander. It's time to ventilate the soul-crushing stuffiness that is welling up in man!
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Sep 20, 2025
Sep 20, 2025 at 12:34 AM UTC
Chinovnik-Wisdom
The irresolvable contradiction, in whose subconscious formula this current absurd-impossible World is immersed, first it turns into non-existence, then it organically emerges into the stagnant Nothingness. The ostrich-faithful gangs of yampecs, like the circus associations of the self-deceivers, seem to even play together a little in the manner of accomplices in the intercontinental businesses of gamblers - because a restless, wandering Soul has long since become a cat and has been tempting the son of man, because there is no partiality, no special difference in a prolonged, incessant Sisyphusian fall. It feels the numbing cracks of the rotting decompositions, while those who remain on the surface are constantly eviscerating the last pennies and silver coins from the pockets of the simpler, working average; Even pitifully degrading bureaucratic wisdom cannot be quite adequate these days: dignity and existence exclude each other just as feudal lords exclude a compromising servant. Free-thinking is not at all chic these days, they are quite calmly content with merely the illusion of truth as long as possible. Now imported idolatry is becoming more and more popular again, but very much so. Because in the guaranteed transitional age, no one and nothing can be themselves, or the same as they were as long as the laws of humanism were observed, the message of conscious blind indifference seems to have been deliberately transplanted into another blind world. Like startled fish embryos, apocryphal passwords glide, wrinkles write the warning message on the secret prison walls of faces: "Pay attention, and rather hide in hiding!" - Every circle must organically close at some point. The wasted seasons are no longer waiting for a silver star ready to wander. It's time to ventilate the soul-crushing stuffiness that is welling up in man!
Continue reading...
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Grow, grow, growing grow Taller, wider, deeper, steeper Topsoil cracking Foundations creaking Interstitial water leaking Gases pluming Sun too hot Birds forgetting how to fly Flies all set to multiply Central heating turned up high Fish recumbent on the sands Hail brave campaigning elephants Who rampage through the concrete jungle eviscerating 4WDs with tusks awry trunks outstretched eyes akimbo Vanguard of a worldwide army of feather scale and bone all stitched up By might is right into a threadbare tapestry of deprivation Today we spread, we glow, we grow In rampaging delight we gag on feather, bone and scale We suffocate ourselves Tomorrow The earth will fry And so might I Is this the way to end our poem © Diana Korchien 2012
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Feb 21, 2017
Feb 21, 2017 at 7:39 AM UTC
God Bless Our Appetite
Air left to rust when we speak it now is the time to postpone gladly over a shining, retaliatory absence in search of a space to shape a volatile figure that was a bridge how, humming our steps a valedictory making staccato. hurry before it catches us mid-flow, profuse with sustained harbors but they cannot see us here when they slit us from our canvas, how? all that radiates expels us out of this when no more; absorbed their breaths boldly stuck inside a body: a cage: a meeting: an encounter a path dollies in perfect capture frame by frame almost an ellipsis the world tonight blackened a gutter squalled by an unseen figure darting across, eviscerating the bargain: that in-between produced vastness.
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Jun 1, 2016
Jun 1, 2016 at 4:12 AM UTC
Caecus
Knife edged, this twisted world Where men sit on their hands, Despite the carnage, sanctified Despite where outrage lands. Blinkered to the massacre Oblivious to death Ukraine and in Gaza Via Satan's filthy breath, Carnage bleeds, unsated Innocents now die Dismembered in the rubble Where little children cry. We in distant nations Sit remote and quite detached, Unhindered by the distance Untouched, unattached. We wring our hands in anguish  What more can we do? This smothered insignificance A sad defense for you. Whilst the Ogre in the Kremlin And the Mullahs in Iran Dispatch their lethal warfare Eviscerating man. Ego and the Caliphate Combine to force the hand With nuclear threat to NATO In the ultimate demand. China on the sideline, Poised to hit Taiwan, Awaiting the confusion To join the battle song. Extermination Israel Taking Saudi's oil rich wells And a settling of the score In sending Infidels to Hell. Here we sit in our seclusion With a blue sky overhead, Not a thought that our tomorrows Possibilities....may be dead? Not a thought that our inaction At this point of time entails The destruction of the order Here on Earth, that now prevails? Have you bitten hard the bullet, Have you clenched your teeth in rage? Have you stamped your foot in anger To decide to turn the page? Have you weighed the dreaded consequence Of just blithely carrying on.... Or will you gather up your skirts To Sing Our Planet's Battle Song? [email protected] 9th March 2024 .
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Mar 8, 2024
Mar 8, 2024 at 7:14 PM UTC
To Sing the Song of Battle
Drinks turn to drinks, turn to drinks, turn to drinks, Turn to acidic love, Eviscerating my sight with technicolour, An extraordinary hallucinatory rush, Holding hands or laying in laps, Falling into ribs or the booming bass of summer hits, Rising and soaring then crashing into loops, Of thought, Falling into ribs or the booming bass of summer hits, Falling into loops of thought, Falling in love, Texting my friends, feeling unsure if I’m thinking or talking, Words on the screen convey the words in my head, That’s mad, The blinding light of a children show whirls, I think I know my type, I hope she kisses me, I need to get out of this situation, What about drawing? Or music? Or sit in silence for 45 minutes flat, Or watch X2: X-Men United, Stuck in loops, Time has passed, One sudden snap, And it’s ******* awful, Coming down, Hold on and go to work, Really good, I’ll try it next week, And although I should know better; it all felt so magical and real, I fell in love a little bit, And lost myself a little more
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Jul 12, 2018
Jul 12, 2018 at 6:49 AM UTC
Psychotropic Schedule 1
The sky and the sun have been acquainted for long, Yet they bicker, fight and sometimes don't get along But when nights inevitable vanish and stars gone They stood by each others side as the sun in the sky. Now one day the sky had the courage to speak his mind The correct syntax and metaphors of what he could find He said 'Sometimes, I love that you give me my colour, That you show me all the hidden beauty to discover, And you have always been like my lover'. The sun beamed a radiant ray into the vast sky, Eviscerating the clouds that kept the beautiful sky hidden, Though the love between the sun and the sky is forbidden So although their hearts and storms beat to the same rhythm They were never meant to stay together with one another So the sun, the sky, the warmth carried empty title of lovers.
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Apr 30, 2016
Apr 30, 2016 at 7:38 PM UTC
Sun-Sky [Unfinished]
I sat at the Lighthouse and looked at the sky feeling the breeze caressing my spine little did I know this would be the last time that I would sit on these rocks in the early july I felt like an oyster on the half shell hearing the wind in the trees casting their spell The bouy rocking and ringing its bell the sunrise is effortless painted pastel life was so easy then 2005 I wish I had loved you then when life was simple and love was easy when you and I were young enough to stay over at each other's houses and talk all night on the mattress we dragged out in front of the tv                  2010 I wish I had loved you then When love was awkward, small and we were innocent When we could look into each others eyes and know that we were too scared to hold hands even in public and was lost when you kissed me                   2016 Im glad we love each other now when we're both sixteen and I learn to drive and you text me when I got home when you hold my hand without shame to and tell our parents for our first time when you kiss my nose and clumsily love me and even then that fades from contact daily to a nod in the halls why do I love rejection why do I feel like my entire body is a leg that fell asleep why are we pending why is it that I cant see a volvo without thinking about the moss on your windshield why am I seated on the gross tiled floor in a dingy room trying to ignore the thought of you why cant I look at my favorite sweater anymore why cant I drink milk or drive that strip of highway why cant I remember how love felt with someone else why do I forget that I mean so little to you why did I let you replace my big A with your little e why cant I listen to Beethoven without feeling scared and alone why do I let your rejection become me why am I so scared that losing you means forgetting me why has it been 1 month and nine days since we last spoke why do I count that why do I feel like disassociation is my default when you aren't there to tell me it isn't why am I not able to look in that envelope without losing breath the envelope that used to take my breath away for another reason But most importantly why do I love yellow when its eviscerating to look at
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Aug 7, 2016
Aug 7, 2016 at 6:22 PM UTC
pending (edited)
I sat at the Lighthouse and looked at the sky feeling the breeze caressing my spine little did I know this would be the last time that I would sit on these rocks in the early july I felt like an oyster on the half shell hearing the wind in the trees casting their spell The bouy rocking and ringing its bell the sunrise is effortless painted pastel life was so easy then 2005 I wish I had loved you then when life was simple and love was easy when you and I were young enough to stay over at each other's houses and talk all night on the mattress we dragged out in front of the tv                  2010 I wish I had loved you then When love was awkward, small and we were innocent When we could look into each others eyes and know that we were too scared to hold hands even in public and was lost when you kissed me                   2016 Im glad we love each other now when we're both sixteen and I learn to drive and you text me when I got home when you hold my hand without shame to and tell our parents for our first time when you kiss my nose and clumsily love me and even then that fades from contact daily to a nod in the halls why do I love rejection why do I feel like my entire body is a leg that fell asleep why are we pending why is it that I cant see a volvo without thinking about the moss on your windshield why am I seated on the gross tiled floor in a dingy room trying to ignore the thought of you why cant I look at my favorite sweater anymore why cant I drink milk or drive that strip of highway why cant I remember how love felt with someone else why do I forget that I mean so little to you why did I let you replace my big A with your little e why cant I listen to Beethoven without feeling scared and alone why do I let your rejection become me why am I so scared that losing you means forgetting me why has it been 1 month and nine days since we last spoke why do I count that why do I feel like disassociation is my default when you aren't there to tell me it isn't why am I not able to look in that envelope without losing breath the envelope that used to take my breath away for another reason But most importantly why do I love yellow when its eviscerating to look at
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A predator takes pride In eviscerating its prey Draining away its life As it slowly plays
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Feb 15, 2015
Feb 15, 2015 at 11:18 AM UTC
Feeding Time
It is sometimes necessary For me to smile At the vile Vitriolic antipathy Of posted words Lacking even a scintilla of empathy Even less forethought.. ....Of what Such self - eviscerating wrath And the damage done To the humanity... and sanity By living forever... knowing That showing That raw-boned- dried up Abomination That pride allowed You to project... ... when someday That same pride Will object... .... to  deserving Not only to others observing But to your own objections To those obscure reflections That you may have scrubbed With manic passion To the point where no one can see The allegorical symmetry That you cannot erase Or from your heart and soul efface All because - without a thought As to what, where, when or how Something you put down in writing then You cannot stand up to now!
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Jan 4, 2017
Jan 4, 2017 at 6:53 AM UTC
Posted
why do I love rejection why am I projecting meaning onto a little grey arrow why do I feel like my entire body is a leg that fell asleep why am I pending why are we pending why do I feel so out of place in a room of friends why am I so sad to people I love happy why am I this selfish why is it that I cant see a car without thinking about the moss on your windshield why am I seated on the gross tiled floor in a dingy room trying to ignore the thought of you why cant I look at my favorite sweater anymore why cant I drink milk or drive that strip of highway why cant I remember how love felt with someone else why do I forget that I mean so little to you why do I let that small reminder affect me why did I let you replace my big A with your little e why cant I listen to Beethoven without feeling scared why do I let your rejection become me why did scary tyler, or uninhibited jules, or violent todd, or lovely katherine let their names become rejection too why am I so scared that losing you means forgetting me why has it been 1 month and nine days since we last spoke why do I count that why do I feel like disassociation is my default when you aren't there to tell me it isn't why am I not able to look in that envelope without losing breath But most importantly why do I love yellow when its eviscerating to look at
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Jul 22, 2016
Jul 22, 2016 at 4:09 PM UTC
pending: hour 13
Slipping my hand away from her soft shoulder with an eviscerating stare she used her tongue as she flayed and filleted me cutting sinew, bone, flesh all my feelings alike words slicing through splitting my dry carcass bursting open my soft heart spilling sweet love’s blood on the cold sawdust floor ©  2019 Jim Davis
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Aug 5, 2019
Aug 5, 2019 at 9:03 AM UTC
Slaughterhouse
Hope flies out the window fast Bottom empty no repast, Moment born of cancers’ child Status hangs unreconciled Woe be they who lay it thin Who stalk these dark nights, plundering. Woe be they who keep their guard Abreast, and lo behold, ****** That which causes heart to sing Despite the hurt imbued within. Solitary, lonely way Through this enigmatic day. When, in truth, potentials lie Through yonder, bright magenta sky, Through reams of iridescent verse Orated daily, unrehearsed, Bowls of olives, black, in oil Turkish loaf, foccascia foil laughing girls in skimpy skirts Raucous till he belly hurts…. But futile in this state of woe As bitter bile now sours the show. Towering in halls of cloud Mouthing ,hard, jawbone aloud Struggling to hold intact Counterpoints to interact, Damning inconsistencies, Weak deniability’s Betrayal slides In cuts of time Agonising back teeth grind Quivering in searing pain Every good, undone again. Stalking hard to places thin Solitude… eviscerating, Emptiness imbues the light Shatters soul in shoals of fright, Delve hopelessly to hopeless ways Scream as light refracts in waves, Wallowing to places thin Wavering to lost within. Weakness in the cold half light Shattered prospects drenched in fright, Rabid eyes withdrawn in face Incarcerate hot hatred’s trace. Better now in light of day Sunshine beaming in to play, ***** count resumes its gain Flocculant reduces pain Shame slides in the door ajar Embarrasment impinged afar. Amazing how a cup of tea Resurects the life in me. M. 14 April 2019
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Apr 25, 2019
Apr 25, 2019 at 12:23 AM UTC
Solitude of the Thin Place
Hope flies out the window fast Bottom empty no repast, Moment born of cancers’ child Status hangs unreconciled Woe be they who lay it thin Who stalk these dark nights, plundering. Woe be they who keep their guard Abreast, and lo behold, ****** That which causes heart to sing Despite the hurt imbued within. Solitary, lonely way Through this enigmatic day. When, in truth, potentials lie Through yonder, bright magenta sky, Through reams of iridescent verse Orated daily, unrehearsed, Bowls of olives, black, in oil Turkish loaf, foccascia foil laughing girls in skimpy skirts Raucous till he belly hurts…. But futile in this state of woe As bitter bile now sours the show. Towering in halls of cloud Mouthing ,hard, jawbone aloud Struggling to hold intact Counterpoints to interact, Damning inconsistencies, Weak deniability’s Betrayal slides In cuts of time Agonising back teeth grind Quivering in searing pain Every good, undone again. Stalking hard to places thin Solitude… eviscerating, Emptiness imbues the light Shatters soul in shoals of fright, Delve hopelessly to hopeless ways Scream as light refracts in waves, Wallowing to places thin Wavering to lost within. Weakness in the cold half light Shattered prospects drenched in fright, Rabid eyes withdrawn in face Incarcerate hot hatred’s trace. Better now in light of day Sunshine beaming in to play, ***** count resumes its gain Flocculant reduces pain Shame slides in the door ajar Embarrasment impinged afar. Amazing how a cup of tea Resurects the life in me. M. 14 April 2019
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Chaos was a cold void, slowly collecting mass while solar fury flew out from the center making meaning from our darker past by eviscerating that expanding form, making dark bright and cold warm. In fear a few stayed and prayed while almost all humans covered their blinking eyes in awe journeying forth from Plato’s cave to face a brand new bright purpose filled sunny day, but light made to many claims about how it conquered darkness’s chaotic ways with shining solar ray blades that ripped straight through the black tearing into eternity and bringing hope back from nothingness. Meanwhile, the darkness offered the truth of disorder only to be vilified by those who fear and despise the unknown.
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Jul 10, 2017
Jul 10, 2017 at 9:35 AM UTC
Light Versus Dark
Human skin surrounds encases, wraps tight until there is no longer a breath. Tough cement hardened to be poison for trees within. Walls, a barrier for growth. Pickers keep picking, yet what they find is void of green. Instead black charcoal crackles orange and red flame, eviscerating all that is. Changing life to sick death. Paralyzed within, a fury attempting a pathetic escape. Flames rise from speakers will and pauses onlookers. A torment of phrases swirl. Unleashed is the roar, gone the evergreen. Cries of anguish can tear the ears, a seed placed in the head. So unwillingly controlled. By laughing roars and uplifting vows though stronger without
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Aug 31, 2017
Aug 31, 2017 at 9:34 PM UTC
Trapped