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"fallowed" poems
Silent whispers through the air spinning up high fallowed by lusters in the sky reaching across throughout the tree's creating a beautiful seen   shining beyond what man knows lightning such darkness surly you must hear my prayer while I sit here in despair
0
Sep 2, 2012
Sep 2, 2012 at 2:45 AM UTC
Prayer
Sings hymns to appease the wrath of the gods. Plough the fallowed ground and acknowledge that feminine seductions are the source of interplanetary equilibrium. Is that the best that you have got? Well, we know your wiles and will not succumb to your enticements, despite those expectations of the authorities. A wet orifice certainly comes at a price, yet her warmth contains forbidden properties in the face of ritualistic defiance. So, my heavenly being, I urge you to bow the knee in humble adoration to your anatomical deceptions.
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Dec 31, 2013
Dec 31, 2013 at 3:41 PM UTC
Moist Friction
I thought when I watched you the clocked stop I was only breathing too hard your bony fingers are around my heart if feels so good to feel them there they are cold but I will make them warm again I wear my skeleton like a spider or an ant touch my back my body is an electric fence the ghosts of the sparrows that flew out of your mouth only know where sunsets grow we fallowed them to the trees where they are skinny and bare and their roots are as cracked as ours I was holding your hand so gentle I thought that I was going to lose you I was whispering to your ears telling them not to worry you thought I spoke in madness it was only my smile that magically tricked you into loving me my magic tricks are a musical garden I tried to grow you but the sun never came neither did the rain one night you tried to not let me see you crying but I knew you did cause your heart stung me like a jellyfish my hands are still raw and numb from the sorrow but I know that you had forgiven me when the bleeding finally stopped I still haven't shown you the scars but I was only speaking in madness
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Apr 1, 2011
Apr 1, 2011 at 1:49 AM UTC
Jellyfish
One of his sick molars was jarring, crying foul, the root canal treatment she did, the first, on him made it quiet,it touched exactly the love nerve. Love sprouted,got rooted between the curvy dentist and him in exactly five sittings; the soil was fertile. The  romantic dentist seized his pining heart too quick, the causes and effects of that pain, she whispered, was similar to what she felt , when he whimpered leaning his head on her full ******* No reason he had, not to surmise she didn't do everything she should, to make his ailing tooth perfect. Coochiecooing to her, he even called her" the tooth fairy's baby girl" overwhelmed she gifted him a smooch. Each  sitting fallowed soliciting  that rare,tender dental care, on her cozy swiveling chair, brought them closer to bouts of  necking and things more adventurous, (may the medical ethics, pardon the pair!) Vigorous  narratives she breathlessly reeled off, on the state of his each tooth brought her more closer to the chair than what professionally was expected, her perfumed warm presence brought aches, not necessarily dental. A stinging pain on a root repaired at a time his 'root canal sweet heart' was away compels him to explore for a new chair. The horror of horrors, it was revealed here, a piece of broken iron implement his sweet heart, has left within the root; a  cover up as she couldn't retrieve it with her skills inept, it did aggravate, caused the pain! Isn't the  betrayal of the kids, in the name of tooth fairy,non existent   far less heinous, than a cheating like this! could any one blame him for this, to escape a bad tooth future,  he did the best one could; the comely tooth fairy that found the fault and mended it shows him his place in the swivel chair of her heart these days!
0
Jan 28, 2016
Jan 28, 2016 at 9:02 AM UTC
The Root Canal Sweet heart
One of his sick molars was jarring, crying foul, the root canal treatment she did, the first, on him made it quiet,it touched exactly the love nerve. Love sprouted,got rooted between the curvy dentist and him in exactly five sittings; the soil was fertile. The  romantic dentist seized his pining heart too quick, the causes and effects of that pain, she whispered, was similar to what she felt , when he whimpered leaning his head on her full ******* No reason he had, not to surmise she didn't do everything she should, to make his ailing tooth perfect. Coochiecooing to her, he even called her" the tooth fairy's baby girl" overwhelmed she gifted him a smooch. Each  sitting fallowed soliciting  that rare,tender dental care, on her cozy swiveling chair, brought them closer to bouts of  necking and things more adventurous, (may the medical ethics, pardon the pair!) Vigorous  narratives she breathlessly reeled off, on the state of his each tooth brought her more closer to the chair than what professionally was expected, her perfumed warm presence brought aches, not necessarily dental. A stinging pain on a root repaired at a time his 'root canal sweet heart' was away compels him to explore for a new chair. The horror of horrors, it was revealed here, a piece of broken iron implement his sweet heart, has left within the root; a  cover up as she couldn't retrieve it with her skills inept, it did aggravate, caused the pain! Isn't the  betrayal of the kids, in the name of tooth fairy,non existent   far less heinous, than a cheating like this! could any one blame him for this, to escape a bad tooth future,  he did the best one could; the comely tooth fairy that found the fault and mended it shows him his place in the swivel chair of her heart these days!
Continue reading...
52
*A lone tree, in all its glory stands in the courtyard of my heart; evergreen all these years, proud of its songs heard as green waves nourished by the sun in my sky. Without that tree, I can't be a comely girl once came there  for an ecstatic  dance, then sat below its shade with a smile all through a day and night then in the courtyard of my heart she became a constant presence. The wind's tunes sung paeans to her, the verdant courtyard was filled with sun and songs; the tree's first spring it was. A long season of flowering followed, pink and white blossoms with heavenly scent was abundant all through the year on the tree's crown. Like a moving cloud, honeybees swarmed around singing songs of love, joy of communion fallowed by the pain of parting, the season of fragrant blooms soon came to an end and with that she too left, telling me that I'll be her true love always whatever happens to us, In that tree, the witness of our love she tied an invisible ribbon that bound us too tough to get loose, that embraced me whenever wind played with it, I and she were mere shells presence of love, alive in the precincts, of the tree that makes me alive, now and for ever.*
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Dec 21, 2013
Dec 21, 2013 at 1:09 PM UTC
A lone tree stands in the courtyard of my heart
That flesh’d vizard – does it decay, So much alike the ****** My mortal stature – emaciated – Forthwith; it’s programmed. Do those lines – like trenches deep – Carve moats for tears to flow. And do they flow – like rivers march My countenance; fallowed. To rejuvenate – vials and vials, Ointments in plethora. I rub and rub, till the vizard cracks Lo! Restore my aura. Pseudoscience, falsehoods galore – A vice of fiscality. Like a cyst, does it tremor, Melting my vanity. Visage – deep – a pick inside my soul. Those flakes of ego crumb. A mien so ****** yet so loved… Can they not see how numb                          I am.
0
Dec 4, 2020
Dec 4, 2020 at 8:23 AM UTC
Vizard.
When I traveled to Rainbow lane In a far off dream, I saw a daisy, the daisy was kissed by the gentile sun, growing a bit each day, On sad days the daisy drooped, and the cloud's tears drizzled upon the daisy, but sunny days always fallowed those damp days, the flower smiled once again and every evening the flower slept in a soft bed of hay, awaiting the morning sun.
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Mar 8, 2010
Mar 8, 2010 at 6:15 PM UTC
the daisy on Rainbow lane
We now embark on the poles of the sea, lost to find the shores. Like mad men we're living on adverse held to the riches we adore. But whats wrong with this picture, I can't see through the walls of ice. Oh baby I'm a desperate victim, destroyed by my lustrous eyes. This is a calling of love, Am I right? You've heard me from the skies. S.O.S. Save our sons. Your presence gives me vigour to discover, Our truer path upon the sea. I fallowed the albatross. Fighting over sea foam skies deliver us to the morning light. Guided by the albatross. Advise now us from the devils night, from the oceans appetite These angels that I once held revered are now objects of controversy. Am I wrong to lick my lips for you know this hungers killing me. So against the good of her grace, gut rotted we strip her clean. Lost to sea for this vultures seizure, blessed be this vanity. And you know that they say if you living live for today, The relentless pray, and the promises from which I paid. I been destroyed once again by my lustrous eyes. I fallowed the albatross. Fighting over sea foam skies deliver us to the morning light. Guided by the albatross. Advise now us from the devils night, from the oceans appetite For a moment I thought I'd get away clean. But who can blame me sanity it ain't for me. They scream; You judas, you destroyer, You spineless heed we curse you life. You are ******* dead to me.
0
Jan 30, 2014
Jan 30, 2014 at 5:38 PM UTC
The Albatross
They all gather to the deadhouse Like actors taking to a well trodden stage Whether from London's' Kings Cross Or the finery of NYC's Queens borough Back to the fold all prodigal sons must return To join with those that could never find a way From this barren cold land and its insular bitter lies All united now in a grief of one that has been lost   All divided by a rivalry, a rumor, some generational feud The priest commences his weary and over versed tone As he summons his God, his Jesus and his Litany of Saints Incense burns as a symbol of the prayer of the faithful rising Yet rising no further than their hypocrisy descends And where do you look when even Jesus lets you down As you turn to wipe that burning tear from your face One not born from holy water nor from their devils grace Doors are opened and a captive audience awaits A procession of mourners to take their turn to the stage Heads bowed all and one, as hands are extended In weak and feeble grips amid their mumbled exchanges "Sorry for your loss" and "taken too soon" None hesitate too long as they navigate this fallowed room An occasional recognised face among a community of strangers A moment of warmth emanating from this ritualistic parade All gone too soon unlike those memories of years past Of wanting to get out and get free, promising never to go back Yet to the last of this line they swear that they remember you well Whilst retiring to The Old Stand with promise of more stories to tell Where the whiskey chasers flow like the Guinness on draught Helping to swallow the lies on how good it is to be back Rehashing of old platitudes but nothing really said For no one shall ever speak ill of the dead
0
Jan 17, 2017
Jan 17, 2017 at 4:39 PM UTC
scenes from the deadhouse
They all gather to the deadhouse Like actors taking to a well trodden stage Whether from London's' Kings Cross Or the finery of NYC's Queens borough Back to the fold all prodigal sons must return To join with those that could never find a way From this barren cold land and its insular bitter lies All united now in a grief of one that has been lost   All divided by a rivalry, a rumor, some generational feud The priest commences his weary and over versed tone As he summons his God, his Jesus and his Litany of Saints Incense burns as a symbol of the prayer of the faithful rising Yet rising no further than their hypocrisy descends And where do you look when even Jesus lets you down As you turn to wipe that burning tear from your face One not born from holy water nor from their devils grace Doors are opened and a captive audience awaits A procession of mourners to take their turn to the stage Heads bowed all and one, as hands are extended In weak and feeble grips amid their mumbled exchanges "Sorry for your loss" and "taken too soon" None hesitate too long as they navigate this fallowed room An occasional recognised face among a community of strangers A moment of warmth emanating from this ritualistic parade All gone too soon unlike those memories of years past Of wanting to get out and get free, promising never to go back Yet to the last of this line they swear that they remember you well Whilst retiring to The Old Stand with promise of more stories to tell Where the whiskey chasers flow like the Guinness on draught Helping to swallow the lies on how good it is to be back Rehashing of old platitudes but nothing really said For no one shall ever speak ill of the dead
Continue reading...
32
Since birth, Learned from the world Applied in life Some parts wise Enabling a chance to rise Some had downs Over time, As that innocent child Became really wild Growing up becoming a menace Some called him Dennis Wasn't expected to pass Managed to overcome In steps through time Started to get in line not bind nor swallowed comprehended & fallowed Stood with what he believes An activist for human rights That struggled to cope Was a visionary during life Who had good hope A will to strive
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Dec 14, 2012
Dec 14, 2012 at 5:37 PM UTC
Managed To Overcome
We now embark on the poles of the sea, lost to find the shores. Like mad men we're living on adverse held to the riches we adore. But whats wrong with this picture, I can't see through the walls of ice. Oh baby I'm a desperate victim, destroyed by my lustrous eyes. This is a calling of love, Am I right? You've heard me from the skies. S.O.S. Save our sons. Your presence gives me vigour to discover, Our truer path upon the sea. I fallowed the albatross. Fighting over sea foam skies deliver us to the morning light. Guided by the albatross. Advise now us from the devils night, from the oceans appetite These angels that I once held revered are now objects of controversy. Am I wrong to lick my lips for you know this hungers killing me. So against the good of her grace, gut rotted we strip her clean. Lost to sea for this vultures seizure, blessed be this vanity. And you know that they say if you living live for today, The relentless pray, and the promises from which I paid. I been destroyed once again by my lustrous eyes. I fallowed the albatross. Fighting over sea foam skies deliver us to the morning light. Guided by the albatross. Advise now us from the devils night, from the oceans appetite For a moment I thought I'd get away clean. But who can blame me sanity it ain't for me. They scream; You judas, you destroyer, You spineless heed we curse you life. You are ******* dead to me.
0
Jan 30, 2014
Jan 30, 2014 at 5:31 PM UTC
The Albatross.
There is an emotional graveyard in my back yard It's for all the feelings that die, and I discard Innocence was the first to fall But isn't it always that one for us all Happiness fallowed soon after that Because my life quickly turned to crap Trust was the next to bite the dust For self preservation it was a must Ignorance was the very next one I swiftly learned life's lessons Under the gun Love has entered and been dug up from the ground But each time I bury it a little father down Sympathy can also out there be found It's right over there it's the biggest mound Desire and all the stuff I crave Is right here in this shallow grave Lust that I mistook for love one to many times Deep is it's hole it was such a vicious crime Joy also has it's place among the markers It couldn't be saved by the therapist or doctors Anger was the last that went underground I just couldn't take any more of it's horrific sound You'll notice pain, agony, and strife Very much still have lots of life So also is fear and my darkness I have placed their markers after all I'm heartless And that last little plot way over there Under the Weeping Willow dug with such care It's stone only has dates and dashes That's for my shell when it finally crashes For it will be hollow void of all emotion To lie in that grave will be such a promotion
0
Apr 13, 2016
Apr 13, 2016 at 11:59 AM UTC
Emotional Graveyard
The rain bird whistles in my ear The boustrophedon melody fallowed loud and clear Breach my windows and ruin my sleep A ****** delight my eyes do weep Cradle my head in wretched screams Erase and memorize fallen dreams Trapped in dusk my eye does wake Migraines conjured will soon dissipate
0
Nov 8, 2018
Nov 8, 2018 at 9:51 PM UTC
Rein
His wisdom tooth started to rot, he didn't listen to its complaints at first, dismissed the implications, without much thought, wasn't it denial? When removal was inevitable, the matter came out in a facebook post, as if it was yet another case for immediate social action. Getting a line written in today's wall wasn't bad, he felt a secret elation. Why debate  good and  bad, if  there is a strong chance to change perspectives after the  posting? The rotten tooth thus asserted itself! It felt good for the first time, to know others focus on even your wisdom tooth, soon, the feeling was replaced with, regret, for feeling good, Ouch! it didn't stop there, either, a feeling of confusion fallowed, a sense of ebullient nonsense prevailed, what else could it be called? How to escape to the normal? the thought came after a while, and yes, tell me the wise,what is a normal state?
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Jul 9, 2013
Jul 9, 2013 at 9:44 AM UTC
An Ebullient Sense Of Nonsense
I am already saddened at the severed tie of unanticipated disconnectedness. Bonds of the soul are beyond the figment of our frail imaginations. Black Sunday may give us what we call a “special deal”, but we have to pay greater homage to the powers that be – namely our ridiculous “White House”. In the era of advancement and confusion of colour, I give thanks for your genuine being. The forgotten will truly be remembered, and we will raise a final toast to the anaesthetic of contemporary propaganda. Do you honestly think that you will be safe? Nobility does not reign in absolute finesse and the Fertility of the land is not without its benefits. In my obscurity, I urge you to plough the fallowed ground in the spirit of the English countryside.
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Dec 31, 2013
Dec 31, 2013 at 4:13 PM UTC
White-Washed History
196 lb average male weight ego not included 156 lb average female weight although one spoken sentence hits like a ton of bricks 20 lb unsaid words, searing, left in your throat 10 lb “It won’t happen again” guns for vocal chords 40 lb a dead car battery 25 lb for every bullet he left inside her spirit a scale says 167 pounds body mass measured heavy heart unaccounted 19.30 g roughly the weight of a wedding ring she’s seen three removed from three different fingers 1.5 g enough for six rotations enough to feel zero 1.5 oz enough for a shot take six to feel a hundred 10 million tons the weight of a star 10 million tons the thought of her we are loaded dense filled made-to-break paper-made carbon-bounded heart-strung fire-resistant the weight we carry is not the numbers on the scale we are much more than the pounds we gain the aches that we hold the tears that did not fall living with a hallowed heart does not make it any less heavier these light words were not meant for these paper limbs gravity could care less we are pressured felt squeezed until broken forevermore built strong lasts shortly bulldozed by just one fallowed swoop we are demolished you could build your vessel as ravenous and as merciless as you can only to be held down by the world we are defied measured counted hated loved we are
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Dec 16, 2015
Dec 16, 2015 at 11:31 PM UTC
Weightless
There is an emotional graveyard in my back yard It's for all the feelings that die, and I discard Innocence was the first to fall But isn't it always that one for us all Happiness fallowed soon after that Because my life quickly turned to crap Trust was the next to bite the dust For self preservation it was a must Ignorance was the very next one I swiftly learned life's lessons Under the gun Love has entered and been dug up from the ground But each time I bury it a little father down Sympathy can also out there be found It's right over there it's the biggest mound Desire and all the stuff I crave Is right here in this shallow grave Lust that I mistook for love one to many times Deep is it's hole it was such a vicious crime Joy also has it's place among the markers It couldn't be saved by the therapist or doctors Anger was the last that went underground I just couldn't take any more of it's horrific sound You'll notice pain, agony, and strife Very much still have lots of life So also is fear and my darkness I have placed their markers after all I'm heartless And that last little plot way over there Under the Weeping Willow dug with such care It's stone only has dates and dashes That's for my shell when it finally crashes For it will be hollow void of all emotion To lie in that grave will be such a promotion
0
Jan 29, 2016
Jan 29, 2016 at 1:50 PM UTC
Emotional Graveyard
Words of the underdog Turns out to make a spark Lights up the underground Like candles laid in the dark In a straight row for you to follow Leads you out of the misty hallow Its your own choice weather to swallow As acid drops are laid around you Can burn & control as it is shallow Weather you learn to unlearn, relearn to learn To go on and strive A better place to drive A place far more greater Placed at the end of time Where peace of mind comes To whom learned & fallowed
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Nov 7, 2012
Nov 7, 2012 at 7:11 AM UTC
Learned To learn
Just waking up to see the persons face you love sleeping so soundly next to you. A candle lit dinner fallowed by a romantic movie and holding a girl close. Just simple moments made extravagant because a person you care about is there. Romance is possible anywhere if you're with the right person.
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Feb 6, 2015
Feb 6, 2015 at 10:58 PM UTC
Romance
Winged ants’ fly past day. At its height, wingless all fall; Willing chicken feed!
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Nov 25, 2018
Nov 25, 2018 at 10:43 PM UTC
Glory for a day fallowed by fall!
Sitting in a building so full of people I feel like I’m the only one Broken keys and different graffiti Unfamiliar faces Same old stories Ears ringing Listening to the ones on stage I wonder what if I fallowed their footsteps How different my life would be If I did more than write lyrics Perhaps I’d be on a flight to Boston I had a dream and I didn’t chase it Now I hear they might make it But then I remember All the reasons why I ran To a stranger I knew so well When I felt I had nobody and nothing else At the ends of my days I had a place A bar that was a breath of fresh air As the glasses caught my tears I returned year after year Until it all just disappeared I wonder where my life will go from here
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Sep 4, 2012
Sep 4, 2012 at 11:10 PM UTC
Untitled
you came slithering in my room dressed in mysterious shapes finding dark corners to play in whispering magical thoughts of illusion you shake the soft spot of my foundation I fallowed you down by the lake where you show me that the water is really green you caught an odd colored fish and ripped the meat from its bones you showed me it was nothing but the skeleton of my dead grandma lost upon my last fading memory in the woods we found messages carved into trees they have been blackened by the souls of dead lovers hard to read we try to decode their passion what destruction lies behind beauty's door? so mysterious that they were forgotten before ever written we walked upon these empty roads for days losing all signs of amity you stopped where the hills ended and said: *love is a perilous journey of all sun and no rain when rainbows are destruction to sad faces how can I ever find happiness?* she kissed my lips then said: my kisses are like land mines tick, tick, tick, your heart stops. my shaking bones fell to the floor as I watched her vanish into the thick mist I came upon a bare oak tree still chard from its last message I chipped away the ashes and carved happiness is only the beginning
0
Jul 24, 2010
Jul 24, 2010 at 1:06 AM UTC
Where the Dead Things Grow
The heart pumps beats, fast and slow opens, to the wrong people closes, to the people who open their hearts to you The heart is flexible, bends shrinks hardens softens however, breaks the easiest it is fragile, flammable, soluble, and ferocious a heart is loud blinding, deafening, screeching noise it reverberates to support however falls with just one fallowed swoop one sentence one blink one touch a heartbeat is an echo a prayer a mother’s wish a signal to every corner of your veins a heart travels to all, but only reaches to a few it engages with no remorse no regret if only we could stop listening to it life would be easier to live but to live without a heart, is to die with a heavy soul your heart is a lighthouse a pulsating light flickering off in the distance thrown against the fog billowing in the unknown its visible seen even when you think otherwise it’s within grasp for anyone who wants it it matters it’s yours
0
Dec 15, 2015
Dec 15, 2015 at 2:10 PM UTC
The heart
people what to say time chained feelings pouring out love dipped strawberries idle hands are like the idle hearts warming the night storm in the morning breaking ice sheets like small talk and conversation and yeah you sensed the hesitation plan b fallowed by plan e or f we can talk about the sky if its really raining then we can stay in as long as eyes don't start leaking from the floorboard breaking either way we will be drowning letting scary monsters from the basement see straight to the attic cobweb covered dreams above us long forgotten when we jumped pin picks or pin holes i forget what you call them no you can't smoke my lucky
0
Jan 26, 2014
Jan 26, 2014 at 6:09 PM UTC
you can't smoke my lucky
I did not ask you to forgive me only sit with me in a field sit with me and pray watch the black grass turn green morning sleeps on the other side of the river you notice the soft feathers of the swallows you fallowed them alone found fields more fit for prayer my hands are bleeding I shall leave you messages on the white rocks so you may find your way back to me I hope one day you'll read them and know I still have not forgiven myself
0
Jan 19, 2011
Jan 19, 2011 at 9:18 AM UTC
On the Other Side of the River