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"fealty" poems
I will disappear in fog and night Subdued in sleep and surprise Blinding lights Overwhelming might They will spirit me away And charge me with my crimes They will call me many names And some I might be But none will be my own I will be a traitor or subversive Or worse Because I refuse to swear allegiance To the police state And fealty to the men Clad in black I will not submit But they don't know That I stole into the great hall of Valhalla And took with me One of their mighty spears Usurped their valor And took it back with me Now they will carry me on my shield Though my burning bier Be but a lonely cell And tonight I will dine In the great hall of Valhalla That place that still lives on In the mind of men
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Mar 5, 2014
Mar 5, 2014 at 8:11 AM UTC
Valhalla
Two things I had never asked for, not these things not from you. Honour and loyalty are pledges oaths taken to one whom fealty is owed, a king or master. Loyalty and honour, not always given willingly, freely. Honour and loyalty are stiff, hard, formal words- a debt you feel you must pay. If this is how it is to be, know your debts are paid, you are absolved. I once had your love and friendship, but in lieu of those do not endeavor to fill this space with what you think is necessary. Your honour and loyalty, save, for those more worthy, for those who want this from you, for those who do not know how infinitely more you are capable of.
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May 14, 2014
May 14, 2014 at 12:36 PM UTC
Honour And Loyalty
I will disappear in fog and night Subdued in sound sleep And surprise Blinding lights Overwhelming might They will spirit me away And charge me with my crimes They will call me many names Even some that I may claim But none will be my own Traitor or subversive Criminal or defendant Or maybe Even something worse But I refuse to swear allegiance To the police state And fealty to the men Clad in black I will not submit Nor ever kneel down Though they may lay me On the ground But they don't know That I stole into the great hall of Valhalla In deepest dark of night And took with me One of their mighty spears Usurped their valor And added it to my might Now they will have to carry me Proudly on my shield Though my burning bier Be but a lonely cell It will be my burial And tonight I will dine In the great hall of Valhalla That place that still lives on In the mind of men
0
Jul 17, 2014
Jul 17, 2014 at 10:48 AM UTC
Valhalla (Edited)
Author:  Kristen Stevens Sunday, June 21, 2009 Current mood:outside the loop And yes I know that's a plagiarization (real word??? no matter) of a stupid show...but you shouldn't watch it anyway so there. ME! Last week, as you may have heard was not of the fun, so this week in comparison rocked! And, yes, I am going to end every sentence with exclamations! (it's for the sarcastic effect don't panic) As such I’m going to let YOU write my entry…you’ll see. Once upon a time there was a ______ (adj.) girl. She loved her xbox very much. One day an evil ________(noun) descended on the precious object and smote it with the fury of _______(name of a god). The girl ___________(verb) for many minutes staring at the remains of her once beloved box. She promptly went to the other, less amusing, magic box and asked for _______(noun). She____________(adv.) navigated her way through treacherous and distracting destinations. As she approached the official site, a most ___________(adj.) thing occurred. The destination was ________(noun). Much like the construction in her hamlet, it prevented her from registering her distress. Days _______(noun) slowly, with still no relief for ________(pronoun). What’s a girl to do when  ________(frustrating situation)? In her profession the customers would not appreciate it if she came after them with___________(weapon of choice from popular video game). It had been one week, since the demise of _______(object). She no longer was _______(emotion). The days were literally ________(color). Rain fell _______(verb ending in –ing) the streets. There was still no reply from the xbox deity. Thus ends the tale of piteous woe. This girl has been considering swearing fealty to another more worthy gaming god! There are three systems and I own two of them! Don’t make me get the third! This is a threat! (not you guys, the __________{insert favorite utterance} at Microsoft) goes away quietly muttering to self unkind and unpleasant things that should be done to xbox distributors By the way, how was that I figure, if you’re going to take the time to read it. I should give you something fun to do at the same time. Who doesn’t like madlibs? Huh?
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Sep 21, 2010
Sep 21, 2010 at 8:23 AM UTC
Who had the best week ever?
Author:  Kristen Stevens Sunday, June 21, 2009 Current mood:outside the loop And yes I know that's a plagiarization (real word??? no matter) of a stupid show...but you shouldn't watch it anyway so there. ME! Last week, as you may have heard was not of the fun, so this week in comparison rocked! And, yes, I am going to end every sentence with exclamations! (it's for the sarcastic effect don't panic) As such I’m going to let YOU write my entry…you’ll see. Once upon a time there was a ______ (adj.) girl. She loved her xbox very much. One day an evil ________(noun) descended on the precious object and smote it with the fury of _______(name of a god). The girl ___________(verb) for many minutes staring at the remains of her once beloved box. She promptly went to the other, less amusing, magic box and asked for _______(noun). She____________(adv.) navigated her way through treacherous and distracting destinations. As she approached the official site, a most ___________(adj.) thing occurred. The destination was ________(noun). Much like the construction in her hamlet, it prevented her from registering her distress. Days _______(noun) slowly, with still no relief for ________(pronoun). What’s a girl to do when  ________(frustrating situation)? In her profession the customers would not appreciate it if she came after them with___________(weapon of choice from popular video game). It had been one week, since the demise of _______(object). She no longer was _______(emotion). The days were literally ________(color). Rain fell _______(verb ending in –ing) the streets. There was still no reply from the xbox deity. Thus ends the tale of piteous woe. This girl has been considering swearing fealty to another more worthy gaming god! There are three systems and I own two of them! Don’t make me get the third! This is a threat! (not you guys, the __________{insert favorite utterance} at Microsoft) goes away quietly muttering to self unkind and unpleasant things that should be done to xbox distributors By the way, how was that I figure, if you’re going to take the time to read it. I should give you something fun to do at the same time. Who doesn’t like madlibs? Huh?
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9
A patriotic fervor producing fealty A noble cause compelling loyalty Paired with a callous indignity Brash enlistee plunges toward destiny Honor's badge worn with impunity Duty's moniker embossed with magnanimity Insatiable bloodlust quelshing all insecurity Unbridled ego clamoring a garrulous enmity Toward the villains who shattered blithe serenity First skirmish, pageantry displaced by gravity Mettle varnished with aura of invincibility First battle, fallen comrades question mortality Successive battles, severed limbs, caustic wounds challenge credulity Fragile mind being conditioned to atrocity War's heavy mantle now shorn of indemnity Threatening mind's sanity, hearth's perpetuity Once faceless foes now scream their humanity Once noble leaders brim with insincerity Supportive countrymen now fickle, distant entity Cheering press now rank with duplicity Only solace, hardened comrades equanimity
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Jul 25, 2012
Jul 25, 2012 at 6:03 PM UTC
Civil War Soldier's Mantra
Grievous grace, has due yesterday’s blue Autonomous avarice enigma entity’s hue Identity crisis guidon guile’s due Mystic symbiosis’ existential true Apostrophe sabbat transcendental kitsch Consortium liaison’s libido’s glitch Translucent opulence’s lambent’s a ***** Metaphysical mystique is black as pitch Terrestrial equestrian tellurian's terrene Adamant tenacity’s obtusely obscene Obstinate loquacity spiritually serene Maniacally meticulous  dexterity’s preen Lucid cogent fecund’s maieutic Incarnate’s manumissional eidetic Spatiotemporal telemetry’s fanatic Logistical tactician’s primal ecstatic Chicanery dynamism’s  opulent fealty Intrinsic innate retrospective cruelty Indigenous endemic inherent frailty Corrupt costume counselor subtlety Gambit alluvium aloof impunity Immunity is epicurian absurdity Who are we to us credulity Nimbus nimiety nihilism’s congruity
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Jun 1, 2013
Jun 1, 2013 at 8:39 AM UTC
Cogent
This is the closest thing to honesty. Every quote you’ve ever heard about treating your woman like a queen is right. But it's not true. A queen. they say. Treat her like a QUEEN. But what is a QUEEN? You, who have never bowed your head to kiss the earth, who have never sworn fealty, who've never beaten your brow against the rage of a world - how would you understand a QUEEN. We have this image of spoiled royalty a pretty princess dress a tiara a girl in a high tower or a woman, on a throne, cold and dismissive. But that's not right a QUEEN is DUTY to the people to the land to a kingdom. A QUEEN is a country. A QUEEN is only ever A QUEEN. You have a choice. Blessed are you, man. You have a choice. Be a peasant a blacksmith a merchant be anything in the world. But treat your woman like A QUEEN. So be a knight.   Not a knight in shining armor She doesn't need to be saved. She's A QUEEN She walks with crushed empires in her shoes She rises. Maybe blood drips from her sword Maybe it’s a slaughter But she builds the empire.   My head is my throne My lip is my kingdom My eyes are my army My breath is my law My hands are my sword My heart is my crown. I am a country at war an empire in birth a court on fire. I am a warning and a reminder There’s a reason why, exactly, the QUEEN is the deadliest player on the board.
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Nov 17, 2016
Nov 17, 2016 at 12:08 PM UTC
She Walks in Beauty Like the Knight
On that western isle, bathed in gold- Drenching sun, my only, giddy love, Weaved a daisy chain and crowned Herself, above the clouds and purple- Violet seas, her grace, topping yellow- Sparkled weeds, to flower, marching In fealty, round her red, reign of crown, Soon, after new mornings impromptu Coronation, misty, bluer, eyes felt slow Distant dread, the subtle, burning fate, The inevitable nights of overthrowing And fade of love's noble, corona light. Were I shaper of dream, I would build A grand labyrinthian castle of granite Stone to contain that day— I would Conjure a moat, impervious to shifting Time, the mute corruption of sorrows Waking.
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Oct 24, 2013
Oct 24, 2013 at 3:43 PM UTC
Princess of Aran
There is, one supposes, a certain nobility In simply carrying on with the whole **** thing, Though that assumes some epiphany, Some clawing toward grace, or at least common decency. He had, in some once upon a time, Cast his lot with a better class of people, so to speak; It had not ended well, though, In line with how such things are resolved, His fall not a spectacular, tempestuous thing, But a gradual, veiled affair, not a fiery spectacle With metaphorical medals cut away, epaulets stripped, But a shaded silence, a shrouded yet palpable shunning. And so he is here, in this fading little city Perched forlornly on the banks of a nondescript little river, Having taken an apartment above a pair of offices (One occupied by a seemingly ancient and disinterested lawyer, The other by an ostensible private investigator) Which is sufficiently large and reasonably warm Come the seemingly perpetual winter. He lives, if not in such a manner As he was once accustomed to, comfortably enough: He has his practice, and an adjunct position At the little cow college down the road in Alfred, And there are the occasional women, Sad divorcees marooned in this hill country, Dewy-eyed undergraduates unable to discern Suit coats that are a bit shabby and somewhat passe (There is a haberdasher in Buffalo whose garments Are in the neighborhood of up-to-snuff, And he could certainly manage a trip Down to New York for better tailoring, Though he would be traveling in places and circles Where he is not remembered fondly.) Stepping outside, he encounter snowflakes, Light and unprepossessing, But he studies the sky anxiously, apprehensively (One learns that he must pay Nature its due fealty in these climes, And give into the primal, the instinctual) For he knows what can transpire When the wind blows off the big lake out west just so, Turning innocuous flurries into a malevolent blankness, Making the landscape inscrutable, alien, utterly terrifying.
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Aug 7, 2018
Aug 7, 2018 at 10:01 AM UTC
A Certain Doctor Diver, In Private Practice, Hornell, New York
There is, one supposes, a certain nobility In simply carrying on with the whole **** thing, Though that assumes some epiphany, Some clawing toward grace, or at least common decency. He had, in some once upon a time, Cast his lot with a better class of people, so to speak; It had not ended well, though, In line with how such things are resolved, His fall not a spectacular, tempestuous thing, But a gradual, veiled affair, not a fiery spectacle With metaphorical medals cut away, epaulets stripped, But a shaded silence, a shrouded yet palpable shunning. And so he is here, in this fading little city Perched forlornly on the banks of a nondescript little river, Having taken an apartment above a pair of offices (One occupied by a seemingly ancient and disinterested lawyer, The other by an ostensible private investigator) Which is sufficiently large and reasonably warm Come the seemingly perpetual winter. He lives, if not in such a manner As he was once accustomed to, comfortably enough: He has his practice, and an adjunct position At the little cow college down the road in Alfred, And there are the occasional women, Sad divorcees marooned in this hill country, Dewy-eyed undergraduates unable to discern Suit coats that are a bit shabby and somewhat passe (There is a haberdasher in Buffalo whose garments Are in the neighborhood of up-to-snuff, And he could certainly manage a trip Down to New York for better tailoring, Though he would be traveling in places and circles Where he is not remembered fondly.) Stepping outside, he encounter snowflakes, Light and unprepossessing, But he studies the sky anxiously, apprehensively (One learns that he must pay Nature its due fealty in these climes, And give into the primal, the instinctual) For he knows what can transpire When the wind blows off the big lake out west just so, Turning innocuous flurries into a malevolent blankness, Making the landscape inscrutable, alien, utterly terrifying.
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42
I am yours And no ones And everyones And mine alone        Alone.             So alone. Theres only so much That i can be loyal to I somehow always Choose fealty to You.
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Oct 5, 2018
Oct 5, 2018 at 1:40 PM UTC
Loyalty
Collaboration's implicit excitations explicate expectations Unity's myriad augurs geomancy's indications Demagoguery's ostensibly intuitive impetus coordinations Extravagantly exorbitant panaceas appreciate exaggerations Prolifically profuse profundity's autonomous gestations Empirically emulate epistemology's exogamous creations Intrigue's imperative promulgation's quantum fecundations   Fealty's ephemeral enunciation's explicit complications Hypercritically exponential prophylaxis protocol's interpretations Sacrosanct unary's preternatural predilection's extrications Eventuation's evocative illuminism avant garde's ostentations Corrupt costume counselor's indicative explications Assimilation's synthetic synthesis' ascensional implications Ominous phenomenon portrayal detinue's integrations Umbrage ultraism's penumbral platitude's objectifications Futurity's spontaneous flamboyance's apotropaic expiations
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Nov 30, 2018
Nov 30, 2018 at 7:53 PM UTC
Synergy
The vale of creating souls forsaken my vows, Descend the nebulous hammer upon my names, To leash the Moirae to command Eros's bow, Here lies the broken scroll writ in dying flames. Round the earth trod Hade's iron red needs, Upon the vanguard of the auric age to come, Fear not! For new blooms nap in fertile seeds, Smash thy jolly jugs and drink thy *** Fill the rift of every forge with molten ore, Tis unreal till life illustrate the drying golds, Against the ethereal anvil of ancient lore, Which knights in fealty do Aphrodite hold?
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Oct 12, 2010
Oct 12, 2010 at 12:38 PM UTC
Amorphous Blight
drowning in your absolute **** me.... i'm less alive ! I dive into the waste of our Time misspent on my older youth to squander the audacity of my bad faith in you. how long ? Long by two and then some. held for no ransom my handsome gifts, fetid in the breach of an angel's unsound siege [ a little late in the day to be  ] but your love kills boys on the cusp of manly things with a soft heart - and twice ****** ***** fiend, no more ! more of a joke in the clog of your humid rust agenda in this war. my friends call you " ***** " but you have ever been - called  " you ". what creation has installed into your core, to most corrupt, distinctly more ! a bath of false in a sea of course chores for your Herculean false adore. i Love less all the more ! now prowling your disconnect, we fret, but you slay best my dragons at the door. you strive ! more alive when this beautiful is more defiled and your culprit ****** lapsed in fret and guile. you amass the serene into pits of unsworn fealty. you pledge the wretch of your false to the Truth of my Cause and Defect. Yes! Yes! Yes! and I find you wanting. And found   no one.
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Feb 1, 2013
Feb 1, 2013 at 1:28 PM UTC
THE WRETCH OF YOUR FALSE
Promise me, Maiden. Promise me you care Promise me his Hand is Well-Strung and Fed Promise that Dad's Serving Letter is there And I Promise that my Fealty is set If these Turning Events will make me Strong And become the Hunchback allied to you The Borgia Venom melts; It won't be long For Sorrow to accept the Better Truth Riddles apart I am Serious in Theme About your Magic Craft I can't Compete Hearts cry with laughter; His Smile justly seen With Shifting Paradigms he is Complete. Secrets Unshared, it is better as known For a Child like me to know if he's grown.
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Mar 11, 2013
Mar 11, 2013 at 2:25 AM UTC
SONNET TRIBUTE SUNDRY - THIRTY-SEVEN - TOM DALEY
unbridled fear the galloping beast a gentle horse spurred on by hidden temptations by simple declarations of love and fealty and of the shadows where lurk the hidden enemies simple declarations promising security and the horse gallops on unbridled fear the galloping beast
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Sep 2, 2010
Sep 2, 2010 at 4:14 PM UTC
unbridled fear
Much have I travell'd in the realms of gold, And many goodly states and kingdoms seen; Round many western islands have I been Which bards in fealty to Apollo hold. Oft of one wide expanse had I been told That deep-brow'd Homer ruled as his demesne; Yet did I never breathe its pure serene Till I heard Chapman speak out loud and bold: Then felt I like some watcher of the skies When a new planet swims into his ken; Or like stout Cortez when with eagle eyes He star'd at the Pacific--and all his men Look'd at each other with a wild surmise-- Silent, upon a peak in Darien.
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1.4k
On First Looking Into Chapman's Homer
This is a call to Arms The time for action is now. Our government is preparing for War They're building walls and cutting ties to conquer us they must divide us from ourselves and from our world This is a call to Arms The time for Action is now The board is set, and we, the Pawns, are all in our place, facing an enemy we are told to defeat, though they appear to be identical to you and me. This is a Call to Arms The time for action is now We must revolt Lest we be sacrificed to Kings To Queens, to Bishops To the knights of the realm and the castles they call home. This is a call to Arms The time for action is now We must band together to be heard We will not be cannon fodder For the frontlines of a culture War This is a Call to Arms The time for action is now. Defeat looms ever closer The Reckoning draws nigh Will you stand and deliver Or will you bow down and submit? Will you face the coming adversity, or brave the consequences should you turn your back to it? This is a call to arms They've taken land and sea and air, Poisoned them to **** us, and then billed us for the repair. The enemy surrounds us, Threatening life and limb and freedom. Demanding fealty and obedience. Demanding tribute for the war chest, And soldiers for the ranks, Demanding that we pay the cost while they set price. They want us broken, not just beaten Only unconditional surrender will suffice This is a call to Arms The time for action is now To chant the castles down To fortify the streets Against the tyranny and the hate, Against powers of subjugation, Against the evils of the world now
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Jan 27, 2017
Jan 27, 2017 at 7:45 PM UTC
The Belltower Tolls Midnight
This is a call to Arms The time for action is now. Our government is preparing for War They're building walls and cutting ties to conquer us they must divide us from ourselves and from our world This is a call to Arms The time for Action is now The board is set, and we, the Pawns, are all in our place, facing an enemy we are told to defeat, though they appear to be identical to you and me. This is a Call to Arms The time for action is now We must revolt Lest we be sacrificed to Kings To Queens, to Bishops To the knights of the realm and the castles they call home. This is a call to Arms The time for action is now We must band together to be heard We will not be cannon fodder For the frontlines of a culture War This is a Call to Arms The time for action is now. Defeat looms ever closer The Reckoning draws nigh Will you stand and deliver Or will you bow down and submit? Will you face the coming adversity, or brave the consequences should you turn your back to it? This is a call to arms They've taken land and sea and air, Poisoned them to **** us, and then billed us for the repair. The enemy surrounds us, Threatening life and limb and freedom. Demanding fealty and obedience. Demanding tribute for the war chest, And soldiers for the ranks, Demanding that we pay the cost while they set price. They want us broken, not just beaten Only unconditional surrender will suffice This is a call to Arms The time for action is now To chant the castles down To fortify the streets Against the tyranny and the hate, Against powers of subjugation, Against the evils of the world now
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50
No, love. I am not a knight in shining armour. My armour is bent and dented and cracked, and underneath it are cuts and bruises and scars from the horrors of countless battles I've seen, and some of them almost did break me. No, love. I am not a knight in shining armour. But if you'll have me, I'm prepared to take a vow and swear an oath of fealty and devotion and love. You need only ask.
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Jan 9, 2018
Jan 9, 2018 at 8:03 PM UTC
Knight In Shining Armour
my lips quake as i bow to you my heart shakes and trembles like a leaf nature's temples wait and remind us of simplicity are our minds as tranquil as a lake do they reside in peaceful quiet can we sense the edges of the wild lines are changed and bodies rearranged daily have you come into your power lately i swallowed my pride but not my feelings i give thanks for this healing as my fingers lick your spine i am blinded by your fury we combine memory and poetry lights are dancing hunger abates and we must face our fears with fealty this light is bright this life is mindless kind of like a spiral these burning brains drain our storehouses while we waste away our resources like porous hourglasses drip time like honey i am a sign waving in the wind singing my rhythms from deep within the water and the earth are permanently hurting shrouds of candid letters leftovers that will forever remain lonely as isotopes of poetry are the ions of everything
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Oct 10, 2018
Oct 10, 2018 at 3:00 PM UTC
ions of everything
One thing I'll delight. Poetry is challenge Made constant. unnerving unwordy pilfering deposits on surety. there is forever an unfound to unveil. But only if/when Fright is kept inside you whilst writing or wiling In every day. Not fright meaning scares Or terror mined despair. In its stead adopt a fealty To the unknown unknown! To not knowing what exactly or even a glancing What unknown which We     Just         Don't         Know. So Seek Servitude in unsolvable. Embrace imalleable Modern mystery. Absolved of any certainty completes an unintended Courtesy.   Our lack of knowledge is the only solid Peace of Knowledge we can grasp. To (not really) quote Biggie Smalls you don't know what's unknown It's a Mitzvah this thing Our one our only blessing Because truly this is what compels And Coerces A need to create.
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Jan 12, 2014
Jan 12, 2014 at 5:28 PM UTC
Dunno.
The right hand that harkened to soothe thy brows forsooth vanguards the left that spells thy ruin. She came to thee in nakedness ‘ye saw, thy yellow grin played her like a clavecin. Whilom vase filled with posy gently care, thy indecision maketh poison alack, from its petals sith thee became a hare thy hands darketh the ink already black. A sweven verily haunts the fortress, swith as the horns of a centaur bleed her to her I swore fealty my naked mistress, my lance revealed thy realms of plunder. In the blood thee spilled, made mirror, there lay, reflecting a portrait of vile beasts and a man. The creature that ‘ye bade devour thy prey is the wolf that one day shall swallow the sun.
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Aug 19, 2011
Aug 19, 2011 at 9:24 PM UTC
Lance ‘lot like a Feather so Light
I am a small rose In a clearing with you. Wrap me in tendrils. Celebrate the suns' flame And see my light with moon Glow in the night with us afar As we make love under stars, In the soil is our one keepsake, Roots that plait the fertile earth, By winds, we make our journey, Each leaf is a palm of touches, Each bud a knuckle of fealty And all the thorns our glory. Lie with me in the deep tangles Of airs and moon and rains, See the red, fire in my hair, And the blush of my face As the petals they are, See the red, red rose Of my fearless love.
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Aug 7, 2015
Aug 7, 2015 at 8:18 AM UTC
Small Rose
Don’t go back And try to compare Then with now To superimpose 26 onto 46 A faulty logic The past will not Heal the future The future Cannot corrupt The past What was Or what will be Are concepts To which you owe No fealty In the kingdom of now
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Jun 24, 2018
Jun 24, 2018 at 6:28 AM UTC
Now