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"feirce" poems
His heart was kept in a babooshka-doll that released memory smells with every layer that eroded. The wooden fences faded to damp brick in the corner of his head reserved for the harmonica that played through the microphone in his neck till the sound got lodged in his maudlin march that had him running like he was angry at the road. His Echostep vibrating in the kremlin skin and marrionette heart strings that kept him.... him. Despite broken wings he made the air around him dance with the resonance of each broken crystal ball shard used to predict the past. Each chime raised a mountain, folding back on itself hoping the hallucination would end, till tired hands batted away golden hawks. With rocks for claws. It was all the fights with the wind that had the clouds leaving the moon's Picaso skies, and sailing towards him on warships of rain and frozen effigies. They arrived, astronauts from outer space burning from the lips outwards revealing grey intent and red mists. He fought back with false start epiphanies and the falsetto prophecies that stung the air with pitch raining down. Leaving bare branches where once green hands applauded everything but empty air, like listless typewriters furiously trying to find their voices. Feirce winds and fake faces left blinking with closed eyes in the vastness of battlefield. Turning stomaches and blank canvas whirlpools, storms of anti-peace scarring the last conquests of the flightless ape lizard, and all his gorilla warfare.
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Aug 22, 2013
Aug 22, 2013 at 4:23 PM UTC
Attack of the Flightless Ape-lizard
His heart was kept in a babooshka-doll that released memory smells with every layer that eroded. The wooden fences faded to damp brick in the corner of his head reserved for the harmonica that played through the microphone in his neck till the sound got lodged in his maudlin march that had him running like he was angry at the road. His Echostep vibrating in the kremlin skin and marrionette heart strings that kept him.... him. Despite broken wings he made the air around him dance with the resonance of each broken crystal ball shard used to predict the past. Each chime raised a mountain, folding back on itself hoping the hallucination would end, till tired hands batted away golden hawks. With rocks for claws. It was all the fights with the wind that had the clouds leaving the moon's Picaso skies, and sailing towards him on warships of rain and frozen effigies. They arrived, astronauts from outer space burning from the lips outwards revealing grey intent and red mists. He fought back with false start epiphanies and the falsetto prophecies that stung the air with pitch raining down. Leaving bare branches where once green hands applauded everything but empty air, like listless typewriters furiously trying to find their voices. Feirce winds and fake faces left blinking with closed eyes in the vastness of battlefield. Turning stomaches and blank canvas whirlpools, storms of anti-peace scarring the last conquests of the flightless ape lizard, and all his gorilla warfare.
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55
The pencil. Such a simple thing. Useful and a Convinence we abuse. Stronger than any man More feirce than any beast in the world They say sticks and stones may break my bones, But words shall never harm me. What if those words Were written down? Would that still be the case? Would you just sit by as those pencils Scribbled lies Secrets For others enjoyment? Would you destroy someones life by passing a Written note? Would you start a war by signing a document? Put thousands in poverty because you wrote A bill? And to think. All this? Comes from The Pencil.
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Mar 28, 2013
Mar 28, 2013 at 11:54 AM UTC
The Pencil
My love, my love these shaky Isles Abandoned in the vast blue seas, Born in Mesozoic times When sedimentary oozes ease. From far Antarctic mountainsides To windblown dust from Austral plain They lay in layers thick and deep Beneath the Tasman Sea's domain. A thousand million years of ****** Of plate tectonic shear and drift, Mid oceanic larva seep Determines continental shift. Deep magmatic plumes arise From down within the planet's core To burst asunder from the crust As mountain God's volcanic lore. Ash and larva from the vent In pyroclastic feirce display, Obliterate the cold blue sky Explosively in massive way. Rooster tails of feiry ash And bread crust bombs cascade about Vulcan roars his rage to all In violent, vast, volcanic route. Ignimbrite flows from the vent In sheets a hundred meters deep The incandescence, from on high, Would, watching Angels, cause to weep. Like quicksilver, it cloaks the land To cover all in burning flow, To last a million years as sheets Of sharded rock where 'ere you go. So the land was born of fire And bent and twisted by the force Of upthrust from the great, beneath And earthquakes felt throughout, of course. Earthquakes of unearthly fear Wrack foundation's very base, Sudden as the artic gale Unpredictable to face. So the shaky Isles were born Here to lie in ocean's vast, Clad in forest lush and green Snowclad mountains, rivers fast. Well kept cities, well kept towns Population proud and clean, Beauty all around is felt Perched atop creation's dream. So the Shaky Isles exist Perfect in their place in time, Perched atop subducting plates Perched in ignorance sublime. What's around the corner now? Who's concerned, who really cares For Kiwis make the best of now... The rest remains as chance declares. Marshalg Celebrating a love affair with my beautiful New Zealand. 31 August 2012
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Aug 30, 2012
Aug 30, 2012 at 9:32 PM UTC
My Shaky Isles.
My love, my love these shaky Isles Abandoned in the vast blue seas, Born in Mesozoic times When sedimentary oozes ease. From far Antarctic mountainsides To windblown dust from Austral plain They lay in layers thick and deep Beneath the Tasman Sea's domain. A thousand million years of ****** Of plate tectonic shear and drift, Mid oceanic larva seep Determines continental shift. Deep magmatic plumes arise From down within the planet's core To burst asunder from the crust As mountain God's volcanic lore. Ash and larva from the vent In pyroclastic feirce display, Obliterate the cold blue sky Explosively in massive way. Rooster tails of feiry ash And bread crust bombs cascade about Vulcan roars his rage to all In violent, vast, volcanic route. Ignimbrite flows from the vent In sheets a hundred meters deep The incandescence, from on high, Would, watching Angels, cause to weep. Like quicksilver, it cloaks the land To cover all in burning flow, To last a million years as sheets Of sharded rock where 'ere you go. So the land was born of fire And bent and twisted by the force Of upthrust from the great, beneath And earthquakes felt throughout, of course. Earthquakes of unearthly fear Wrack foundation's very base, Sudden as the artic gale Unpredictable to face. So the shaky Isles were born Here to lie in ocean's vast, Clad in forest lush and green Snowclad mountains, rivers fast. Well kept cities, well kept towns Population proud and clean, Beauty all around is felt Perched atop creation's dream. So the Shaky Isles exist Perfect in their place in time, Perched atop subducting plates Perched in ignorance sublime. What's around the corner now? Who's concerned, who really cares For Kiwis make the best of now... The rest remains as chance declares. Marshalg Celebrating a love affair with my beautiful New Zealand. 31 August 2012
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59
Eyes that know no religion , morals, nor mercy Looked my way Opened the cage of the little flapping bird in my chest and let it fly away Bird keep it quite calm down Hopefully I pray Or love will rip you apart, burn you to ashes,eat your heart. I make it stay Oh bird, Her eyes are spears, they're Cold steel metal, don't bend, slow down, or waver . Oh poor bird still singing hold yourself apeice Her eyes are briers, disguised as roses, claiming peace. Peace left us for years now this land is conceived with fear but it's knights are feirce At times moans of torture at times a sweet song of lust and Tease ,your love All is fine when it doesn't reach your Ears . I was never one to surrender or lay back with ease. A rebel stubborn rebel this little bird a beauty that leers. My dear, A bird will always sing. A poem That you shall never hear.
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Nov 2, 2018
Nov 2, 2018 at 10:23 AM UTC
A Forbidden song
Love; It sneaks up on you Like a fearless lion, Approaching its prey. It's feirce and strong And overwhelming. You never see it coming, But once it pounces, There's no getting out. You might fight For your life, but There is no use. Before you know it, Love is ripping Your heart out, Eating you alive. Love is a preditor, And you are it's prey.
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Feb 10, 2015
Feb 10, 2015 at 12:57 AM UTC
Preditor Love
Vane, young in yeares, but in sage counsell old, Then whome a better Senatour nere held The helme of Rome, when gownes not armes repelld The feirce Epeirot & the African bold, Whether to settle peace, or to unfold The drift of hollow states, hard to be spelld, Then to advise how warr may best, upheld, Move by her two maine nerves, Iron & Gold In all her equipage: besides to know Both spirituall powre & civill, what each meanes What severs each thou hast learnt, which few have don The bounds of either sword to thee wee ow. Therfore on thy firme hand religion leanes In peace, & reck’ns thee her eldest son.
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1.4k
To Sr Henry Vane The Younger
Emptied bottles abandoned in a makeshift nest of expended needles Wallpaper tearing, personified with mind-existent faces Faces crying out, druggies are feeble Thought *** was not dangerous, buds tweaked with laces. Brave men and women all matching in green Prepared for war, physically ready to fight Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, you'll never know what they've seen Comrades dying, fearful crying, killing humans alike. Forced to mature, parents not even related A false family filling an insatiable pit of sadness Baa baa, black sheep. Wool tainted. Fake relatives, real emotion and belief. God Bless. Destiny is cruel, less than two dollars of payment Food scarce, enforcers feirce, assembly line continuous Fingers bleeding and bruised? Keep working. Mentally spent. Whips on the back, the pain gratuitous. Nice family, good car, great job, years ago Remnants of the past, rewinding in the form of dreams Begging for money, mainly ignored, not seen as human anymore Sleeping on park benches, tears releasing in streams. Two to five things go wrong and you feel the need to complain? Yeah. Life must be tough. Your romantic interest leaves you and you feel insane? Problems childish when compared to others, don't you think it's enough?
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Apr 30, 2015
Apr 30, 2015 at 12:14 AM UTC
Problems
Another age is weeping Feirce the killing heart No more time in grace Let us  tear the age apart False scent of fear blinds us all Wish I could wish Mann undone Demons and angels rise to the call For the souls bleeding out in the sun When those sworn to god spew lgnorance What hope is there for the lamb History lays bear our indifference Of those who use god in their damm Righteous or evil the point is the view Contradiction I say it is not Cry for the children the least you can do Some would say we deserve what you got There lies the question With no answer clear Stain of Mann is consuming the sun If death is the lesson Dance in the fear Dream evil when kingdom is come
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May 12, 2013
May 12, 2013 at 2:42 AM UTC
another age is weeping
he,who i like though so crazythough so personal, I now suspect thats not all, I now suspect that Im about to fall for something feirce I cannot say, for because of him I have gone estray thinking of me, or i with him, if I was forward with the truth would he say he could feel the same way
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Jan 27, 2015
Jan 27, 2015 at 7:47 PM UTC
the same way
"Animals Share with Us the Privilege of Having a Soul"                                                  -Pythagoras- I've got a sonoran soul, a wild cat soul, a soul that lives for sunsets. That runs with jagged teeth, Until one corner of the Earth meets the next. I've got a feirce soul, A passionate soul, A soul that howls, until everyones been fed. A red, red, red, orange, amber soul that Rips and Bites and loves so fiercly that often it hides away, Just like Ernest Hemingway said: " The best people possess a feeling for beauty, the courage to take risks, the discipline to tell the truth, the capacity for sacrifice. Ironically, their virtues make them vulnerable; they are often wounded, sometimes destroyed." But destroyed I am NoT, I've got a soul that rOcks me, quAkes me, and shaKes me from my sleepy grave. I've got a soul that doesn't give up, I've got a strong soul, a tigress, a sassy ***** a roaring stormin fire sista!! And I've got a spirit... A spirit that hums like a soft love bird, a spirit that loves to lie in backs of hippie vans and watch the sweet dangle of ornaments. A spirit that listens, that wraps my arms around my chest,  a spirit that calmly braids my hair, a spirit that washes me like the oceans tides that roll over vast sands to cleanse the gentle earth. A spirit that caresses, soothes and nurtures. A spirit that lives for the sunrise, a spirit that coos as the day lifts over mama cedar. So the soul lives for sunsets, the spirit for sunrise, and I, At the stillness of my core, I live for the darkness that happens between the two worlds.
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Jan 22, 2015
Jan 22, 2015 at 4:36 PM UTC
Equidistant
"Animals Share with Us the Privilege of Having a Soul"                                                  -Pythagoras- I've got a sonoran soul, a wild cat soul, a soul that lives for sunsets. That runs with jagged teeth, Until one corner of the Earth meets the next. I've got a feirce soul, A passionate soul, A soul that howls, until everyones been fed. A red, red, red, orange, amber soul that Rips and Bites and loves so fiercly that often it hides away, Just like Ernest Hemingway said: " The best people possess a feeling for beauty, the courage to take risks, the discipline to tell the truth, the capacity for sacrifice. Ironically, their virtues make them vulnerable; they are often wounded, sometimes destroyed." But destroyed I am NoT, I've got a soul that rOcks me, quAkes me, and shaKes me from my sleepy grave. I've got a soul that doesn't give up, I've got a strong soul, a tigress, a sassy ***** a roaring stormin fire sista!! And I've got a spirit... A spirit that hums like a soft love bird, a spirit that loves to lie in backs of hippie vans and watch the sweet dangle of ornaments. A spirit that listens, that wraps my arms around my chest,  a spirit that calmly braids my hair, a spirit that washes me like the oceans tides that roll over vast sands to cleanse the gentle earth. A spirit that caresses, soothes and nurtures. A spirit that lives for the sunrise, a spirit that coos as the day lifts over mama cedar. So the soul lives for sunsets, the spirit for sunrise, and I, At the stillness of my core, I live for the darkness that happens between the two worlds.
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29
I've got my very own Puck and Ash I am their Meghan chase Jose Puck A trickster that takes nothing too seriously a smirk every present a joke always being told But behind that smile behind that joke there is just a boy wanting to love his princess but never able to Matt Ash Silent and brooding as cold as ice hide behind your walls a dark knight in a world so bright Bound by Honor and ever the gentleman But behind the walls behind the darkness there is just boy Loving a princess Who loves him back Nicole Meghan Stuck in her mortal world best friend who will always be in her heart who loves him But not the way he wants who danced with darkness with no fear and fell head over heels Whose best friend and love of her life hate each other with feirce passion her dark Knight vowing to end the others life Uneasy Truce Draw up between them The dark prince and the Trickster Just to keep their princess happy.
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May 1, 2014
May 1, 2014 at 1:43 PM UTC
My Very own Puck & Ash
I want reach out but words stick Glueing to the throat so thick i choke Cough and fail again What do I say What do I do I've tried so hard to forget But my eyes are not so blinded by love Not so clouded with desperation Fighting to hold on Failing to show you what could be If you had but let go Stopped kicking and screaming dragging your nails across the walls Of sanity Def to the what I felt What actions caused But the truth I'm not sure you want To feel as I have felt The zenith of my accumulation what I learned from the outside in Would most likely do you no good Would hurt you and hurt s me to feel again For I am removed from it but lost to it I let you into where others do not go Not my mother No not even the other You know as suridly as I know you will read this Know this And burn as I have burned at the realization You were there in the places that none could see Saw the raw integrity of all that I am And you ripped them Tore it from the socket those fragile things of beauty Sullied them like they were not worth the delicate wonder they had been Shining a rainbow gossimer of good humanity the raw feirce nature of what love should be Nieave as they were meant Forgiving and piercing they had lament They but flutter a sad representation A jaded remorse they have become wishing to be the butterfly that it once was.
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Feb 5, 2015
Feb 5, 2015 at 1:50 AM UTC
Butterfly Lament
oh speak them sweet words in my ear and make me love to have controll of your fears we laugh while we speak of our goals and aspirations the feeling of eachothers madness drives us crazy we take several puffs of the burning ciggertte and talk while the smoke pours out these forgiving lips as i lean in for the kiss i feel the pull of your lips to mine and when i land it we go like two feirce animals going in for the **** going in for the ****
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Jan 20, 2011
Jan 20, 2011 at 6:25 PM UTC
the pull
No better woman than her with ferocious eyes, And a glow of life.
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Oct 4, 2014
Oct 4, 2014 at 10:39 PM UTC
Feirce
This a rain did fall today It masked the tears that fell at will with want And purpose poise Both of feirce and desperate love From  view of sentinel Into her life He walked his path To offer up his soul Want of  her And didn't own A body spun at loan He awaiting just as she And both abandon past Willed a trial To abide those with dread of glance But they went they into a Hera ubliet And renounced the child like The chance of infinite And Petty Thing A thing of Love When love is quickly gone But they are brave And naive And Only of the earth But they the braves Who fight at cost They of yes and yes They will live for time Forever They will never pass So love be brave And heart burn bright Love of No constraint This vein that holds A breath of awe Is Love to never wait
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Jun 25, 2017
Jun 25, 2017 at 11:28 PM UTC
Libertine
the pain that you feel, but cant touch. a pain you know of, but cant explain a pain so feirce you go insane the unknown pain that clutches your heart and burns in your soul the pain in your life to strong to carry on the unknown pain that clouds your mind and devours your every thought the pain of broken promises broken dreams the pain
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Apr 5, 2018
Apr 5, 2018 at 8:37 AM UTC
lost and never found
One thousand times a day. Screamed. Cried. Queried. Said. In Love. In anger. In fear. In question. In need. Mom. She who should know, does know, will go and find out. Mom. Often tired, never too, will do, worn through, I've got you. Mom. Worries about things great and small, will they grow feirce? Will they grow tall? Mom. Lets them fly. Keeps an eye. Stays close by. Hears their cry. Mom. Feels them first. Helps them nurse. Takes their worst. Mom. She who watches them grow. And she knows one day they'll go. Mom.
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Sep 20, 2017
Sep 20, 2017 at 5:55 AM UTC
Mom
I try the starlite But burn my ghost to death Cursing the moonstruck Nite. A mirror of feirce fire Whistles at the cold The blazing sizzle of rain Can barley spit With out a breath I know my heart Is running wild!
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Oct 29, 2018
Oct 29, 2018 at 10:03 PM UTC
Wharewolf
So much involved with the society, In the search, for an identity. I have forgotten my deity I have forgotten my ability. Far from calm, i'm feirce & feisty. So much brutality, In my personality, I am fragile & full of vulnerability. All this calamity, Just for the sake, of an identity.
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Jul 28, 2020
Jul 28, 2020 at 10:10 AM UTC
Identity !