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"fervidly" poems
(10wx2) ~...i'm balancing ~...~...~ ~...~...~ wading on cool ~...~...~...serene waters ...~...~...preparing ~...~...~...to douse, .....a volcano, ...burning fervidly... ....................... imperatively, it musn't spew ..........its brew. Sally Copyright September 17, 2016 Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
0
Sep 24, 2016
Sep 24, 2016 at 10:52 PM UTC
VOLCANO
Tell the truth about the way we loved. Savagely Fervidly Passionately Wildy We burned down the walls of our own bedroom We gave the stars a show The shore something to grab hold of... We were endless Brilliant in our together Innovators in our type of beautiful. We inspired... Men to love women whose mind's were worth kneeling for, And women who loved men with respect worth submitting to... Tell them how we loved Tell them Their was love in the  way our feet moved in relation to the other The way our eyes danced through all of these people Till their was something worth settling on... For me it was you... For you it will forever be me... I will tell them... because sometimes the things that burn the brightest tend to leave one breathless... In a world so self contained... We could not burn down these walls for our beautiful...
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Sep 18, 2014
Sep 18, 2014 at 10:41 PM UTC
The Fire
As we sailed the fast river of Rhône the steady sun bleached it a sparkling gold like the treasures of Caesar’s kingdom A curtain of fawn-silken tackle, shaded back the fervidly garish star scatter, and cooling flower-scented airs tickled the senses like touching down-soft silk "zhuang hong zhuang sheng" (Chinese) “Put on airs’ - Peter and I are Gatsby gilded. Why not dress - on luminous forenoons? Pick a heart, any heart and ***** it, sharply, with the sight of a handsome man. I yet breathless, breathe What weapon is sharper than libido? I defend myself, with fashion’s sartorial sparkle. Frankly, I was hoping for something passively ****** you know, foment a false perception - dazzle with fancy outwork to tip the cosmic balance Men will witness what they believe . . song for this: Desperately Trying by Club des Belugas, Anna Luca 10p.0615
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Jun 15, 2024
Jun 15, 2024 at 10:07 PM UTC
sharp weapons
Do you ever think about me Does the thought of me ever cross your mind Have you ever held me close in a fantasy Or envisioned our bodies fervidly intertwined Have you ever wished I was near... When you just needed someone to hear... Your thoughts and feelings about... What ever needed to come out. Have you ever thought about me When I think about you, my breath catches in my throat My chest feels empty from the feelings it invokes Just the sound of your voice... Leaves me no choice... I begin to reminisce... Of your simple and gentle kiss When I think about you... And often I do
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Jan 23, 2010
Jan 23, 2010 at 9:19 PM UTC
Do You Ever Think About Me
The coiled phone wire wrapped around her capricious fingers, Her chest, pitched then collapse, air solders clings cleaves splinters, She sighs, she suspires And her eyes communicate a vision veering away from her present self, Swerving in and out of ambition, I could never gather all that she felt, She sights, she seeks skyward Her mouth leaks what she muses, her lips remind me of victorian doorways, The wood, the skin, it bruises as she absorbs enclosing disarray, She cries, she is tired The way she leans in her maroon pants Her hands plunging in her pockets, I fervidly hope she finds other plans, revives abandoned passions, left in cluttered closets
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Jan 18, 2014
Jan 18, 2014 at 1:49 PM UTC
Castle in the Air
Where has she gone? All the others are in line, Mother bear knows. Three there, Two here, One down, But she is missing. An inquiry goes through Over channels Fierce and loud Because one isn’t lining up And it’s that one. “Tariq is down, hold on” she says Fervidly praying, breathing heavy And there she is. Anywhere but where she should be. So easy to find, far too easy. Swearing, scolding No time for kindness, Lost, another child lost And another may be lost, The most precious one here. Scathing scoldings go ignored Too naive, too proud A child hoping to **** death Though she calls that barbaric. Reformed, remade, reborn But never killed. And there’s another, Another cub but not hers Carelessly walking on, Not aware of the foe in his midst. Of her child, the fool. But she notices, thank God, But she freezes up, **** God. Frozen, still, just as feared. No gun in hand Shaking, shivering, Breathing so hard. “Don’t hesitate,” The cry goes through But this too is ignored. A gun in hand at last But unused, unfired Shakily held with weak grip. Yet a shot rings out. Another notch for the rifle And another cub protected, The most precious one. He’s fallen and she’s fallen Him in death, her in shock, And again the cry is made “Don’t hesitate”, And again it fails. For she’s truly a cub, Naive child hoping, praying Failing. The mother rushes out Cursing and pushing away curses “We need her, Morrison” she says. “I need her,” she does not. Out from hiding, Rushing, running, and, yes, Praying. Still so shaken, Still too still. She is grabbed, Pulled, tugged, Yanked up to her feet And dragged away, Hastily hidden. Harsh words hurriedly spoken As she is ****** down. Not in anger but in fear And tears flow And the words stop. Scowling the bear sits, Fearing even now in the den. Quiet falls Deafening, painful. Jack shut off, Others mollified, And she does not speak. Only watches, Watching, eyeing on hatefully, Glaring as Mother carves another. One more life, one more line And she doesn’t understand. Only judges quick and fast, Ever the idealist. And that stings more than death’s threat.
0
Nov 15, 2017
Nov 15, 2017 at 12:10 PM UTC
Into the den
Where has she gone? All the others are in line, Mother bear knows. Three there, Two here, One down, But she is missing. An inquiry goes through Over channels Fierce and loud Because one isn’t lining up And it’s that one. “Tariq is down, hold on” she says Fervidly praying, breathing heavy And there she is. Anywhere but where she should be. So easy to find, far too easy. Swearing, scolding No time for kindness, Lost, another child lost And another may be lost, The most precious one here. Scathing scoldings go ignored Too naive, too proud A child hoping to **** death Though she calls that barbaric. Reformed, remade, reborn But never killed. And there’s another, Another cub but not hers Carelessly walking on, Not aware of the foe in his midst. Of her child, the fool. But she notices, thank God, But she freezes up, **** God. Frozen, still, just as feared. No gun in hand Shaking, shivering, Breathing so hard. “Don’t hesitate,” The cry goes through But this too is ignored. A gun in hand at last But unused, unfired Shakily held with weak grip. Yet a shot rings out. Another notch for the rifle And another cub protected, The most precious one. He’s fallen and she’s fallen Him in death, her in shock, And again the cry is made “Don’t hesitate”, And again it fails. For she’s truly a cub, Naive child hoping, praying Failing. The mother rushes out Cursing and pushing away curses “We need her, Morrison” she says. “I need her,” she does not. Out from hiding, Rushing, running, and, yes, Praying. Still so shaken, Still too still. She is grabbed, Pulled, tugged, Yanked up to her feet And dragged away, Hastily hidden. Harsh words hurriedly spoken As she is ****** down. Not in anger but in fear And tears flow And the words stop. Scowling the bear sits, Fearing even now in the den. Quiet falls Deafening, painful. Jack shut off, Others mollified, And she does not speak. Only watches, Watching, eyeing on hatefully, Glaring as Mother carves another. One more life, one more line And she doesn’t understand. Only judges quick and fast, Ever the idealist. And that stings more than death’s threat.
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91
Soon my wishes will be verses, earthworms unraveling a silk string that wraps us in the world. Ravishing, I'm raving madly, going crazy, coming, and coming undone. Your physical frame matched with your intellectual marvel drives me totally insane, dumbfounded and looking for all of my marbles. I'd sail a thousand ships to afford even just a glance, you're the oeuvre to all my movements, conducting the symphony of all we have. I've written a myriad of many books: essay, narrative, prose, and poem. That merely begin to document the excitingness interspersed within our knowings. This mirthy bliss of ours is an overture to our youth, it's this astute aloofness inside these hours fervidly wrapped in a cocoon of me and you. I'm not coming across, the way that I initially intended to. The truth is I'm clueless on how to take something too awesome for words, and then attempt to put sentences into them. Like those pictures of you I sometimes take when you fall asleep before me. That has been a fantastic example to myself of just a miniature way I adore thee. Scotch, IPAs, and hoppy drinks splattering laughter through the room, now how can I find one of 200,000 words that could even give justice to it. So whether or not it's romantic, I don't do it for any other reason, except that describing you and I in words is an inadequacy I'm not pleased with. When lips comfort necks, and hair comforts chests. Sleeping nestled like Bell your head nuzzled at my breast. If I could only say, how incredibeautifulamazing it's been- not last month, last year, or yesterday, but every increment between us without discriminating any piece. Then perhaps I'm getting .0001% closer to being able to describe how amazing we make each other feel.
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Dec 6, 2014
Dec 6, 2014 at 12:17 AM UTC
I Can Make Your Legs Shake Just By Talking To You
Soon my wishes will be verses, earthworms unraveling a silk string that wraps us in the world. Ravishing, I'm raving madly, going crazy, coming, and coming undone. Your physical frame matched with your intellectual marvel drives me totally insane, dumbfounded and looking for all of my marbles. I'd sail a thousand ships to afford even just a glance, you're the oeuvre to all my movements, conducting the symphony of all we have. I've written a myriad of many books: essay, narrative, prose, and poem. That merely begin to document the excitingness interspersed within our knowings. This mirthy bliss of ours is an overture to our youth, it's this astute aloofness inside these hours fervidly wrapped in a cocoon of me and you. I'm not coming across, the way that I initially intended to. The truth is I'm clueless on how to take something too awesome for words, and then attempt to put sentences into them. Like those pictures of you I sometimes take when you fall asleep before me. That has been a fantastic example to myself of just a miniature way I adore thee. Scotch, IPAs, and hoppy drinks splattering laughter through the room, now how can I find one of 200,000 words that could even give justice to it. So whether or not it's romantic, I don't do it for any other reason, except that describing you and I in words is an inadequacy I'm not pleased with. When lips comfort necks, and hair comforts chests. Sleeping nestled like Bell your head nuzzled at my breast. If I could only say, how incredibeautifulamazing it's been- not last month, last year, or yesterday, but every increment between us without discriminating any piece. Then perhaps I'm getting .0001% closer to being able to describe how amazing we make each other feel.
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3
She felt the jolt of loss the moment she woke. Her body screamed, "You're still alive! Even though your heart has broke." It would go into shock every now and then To remind her that he was gone again. A feeling so terrifying, so painful, she preferred to stay awake and slowly go insane. Though she wasn't tired from lack of sleep, she was just tired of the pain. The color drained from her cheeks and the glow from inside. No more smiles or laughter, only tears she couldn't hide. She dared not blink as if doing so would keep them from falling. Night after night, a cigarette in hand, but he wasn't calling. She lived her days repeatedly through the stages of grief. (Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression) She had eluded Acceptance until she was ready for a reprieve. But each time after the last, it beckoned even more. As much as she resisted, the temptation to rest was winning the war. Soon there wouldn't be much to look forward to tomorrow. She was ready to let go and end her sorrow. But he came to her this night, knowing she couldn't say no. He was killing her slowly in the come and go. And he had taken as he pleased, bringing more life into his own. Never aware of what she sacrificed, he had not known. He finally saw the damage and realized how She ended up lifeless here in front of him now. She had given herself to him, every bit of her light. He shouted, "I'm sorry," and this time he meant it. There would be no fight. He knew that he could not truly be without her. Tears poured down his face and he shouted even louder. With her eyes closed, he told her he loved her and kissed her fervidly. And then, something happened most unexpectedly... She kissed him back as much as she could. She was brought back to life by the only one who should. They kissed and kissed and made love right there With her blood, his sweat and both their tears. Though they had struggled for years, they knew that this was how it would be. In the end, with themselves and with each other, They would finally find peace.
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Feb 5, 2014
Feb 5, 2014 at 3:30 PM UTC
And There Was Peace
She felt the jolt of loss the moment she woke. Her body screamed, "You're still alive! Even though your heart has broke." It would go into shock every now and then To remind her that he was gone again. A feeling so terrifying, so painful, she preferred to stay awake and slowly go insane. Though she wasn't tired from lack of sleep, she was just tired of the pain. The color drained from her cheeks and the glow from inside. No more smiles or laughter, only tears she couldn't hide. She dared not blink as if doing so would keep them from falling. Night after night, a cigarette in hand, but he wasn't calling. She lived her days repeatedly through the stages of grief. (Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression) She had eluded Acceptance until she was ready for a reprieve. But each time after the last, it beckoned even more. As much as she resisted, the temptation to rest was winning the war. Soon there wouldn't be much to look forward to tomorrow. She was ready to let go and end her sorrow. But he came to her this night, knowing she couldn't say no. He was killing her slowly in the come and go. And he had taken as he pleased, bringing more life into his own. Never aware of what she sacrificed, he had not known. He finally saw the damage and realized how She ended up lifeless here in front of him now. She had given herself to him, every bit of her light. He shouted, "I'm sorry," and this time he meant it. There would be no fight. He knew that he could not truly be without her. Tears poured down his face and he shouted even louder. With her eyes closed, he told her he loved her and kissed her fervidly. And then, something happened most unexpectedly... She kissed him back as much as she could. She was brought back to life by the only one who should. They kissed and kissed and made love right there With her blood, his sweat and both their tears. Though they had struggled for years, they knew that this was how it would be. In the end, with themselves and with each other, They would finally find peace.
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37
I don't want to **** I want to make love; to caress her cheek with one hand and to hold her hand, fingers interlaced, with the other. I don't want to **** I want to express passion; to kiss fervidly, yet sweetly, and then to look her in the Eyes struggling to gasp the words **** I love you!” I don't want to **** I want to just cuddle naked; to feel our mutual Skin with and without friction, with and without hair, or sweat, or light; resting, or not, upon each other. I don't want to **** I want to feel a connection transcending the physical: I want to feel the warmth of true Love; in my Heart, in my Mind, in my Soul, as well as on my Skin.
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Aug 31, 2013
Aug 31, 2013 at 9:01 AM UTC
Love
***Consecrate me in your madness sanctify this communion, sketch me in bursting metaphorical hues, color'd tinges blushed of cardinal's soft sonnets paint a picture within inky filigreed lace, finely woven silken thread'd tapestries my religion breathes your affinity harmony's rapport of favored essence twist poetry into my hair, whilst dancing upon the music in your stanza's hymn bathe me in peachy champagne bubbled prose suffuse butterfly shivers up my spine i breathe the air you've fervidly script'd etch'd in blood flow awakens my senses, the emotions artistes' bleed out you are my strength, my power my weakness, my Achilles heel ~ swooning in the phases of your darkly lit moons cut me deep into the heart & gut piercing movement of echoes unfold. moving majestic amethyst mountains, shred my soul with your dragon's breath anoint my ******* oils that seep from thy quill make me punch drunk aberration's tipsy drenching me in sparkling scarlet wine clinging from the vines of destiny's path my soul's existence is solely dependent upon your utterly blissful verses within Elysian Fields***
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Feb 17, 2014
Feb 17, 2014 at 1:58 PM UTC
Consecrat'd Madness
A screen was posted on a wall, the corners of my mind Were stretched so very thin indeed, reverberating time And vapid personalities then danced upon the veil Attempting to impose themselves as those who never fail In perfect step with everything, their tendencies align Allow for new anatomies to form upon their spine Collect, repel, reorganize with regular delay I cannot tell you what's become of every single day To calculate would take too long, the change of pace too much And I've become immune to what is parallel to touch See, I have learned their song by now, I've memorized the beat Its rhythm pulses fervidly, intensifies the heat The space is filled with every breath of those who write the notes A call to those who cannot keep the music in their throats
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Apr 11, 2013
Apr 11, 2013 at 11:13 AM UTC
Inside the Projection Room
Music floats lazily through the muggy July air Our legs are intertwined, but like never before Your face is alongside mine, there's a fire gleaming our cheeks I can't help but feel a little electricity as you stroke my hair, and peek at me through timid eyes Exasperated, I murmur, "Fire. I can't take it anymore." Set to collision, I twist my body nearer Your hands graze my waist as our lips meet fervidly, rhythmically Impulse and emotion lull you cuddle nearer and caress my face I encircle my arms around your shoulders "This trip did something," I whisper, "I see you differently."
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Jul 10, 2014
Jul 10, 2014 at 2:59 PM UTC
Differently
Wan flesh stretched thinly Against brittle bones, The flower of youth much Wilted by the bitter moans Of winter winds and Snows, and such; She traipses through so dimly. The surface so ghost-like— Sickly, pale, anemic— Though she makes the Madness Seem so vivid, so scenic Against drab backroads, Gray towns, and the sadness That longs, aches, to strike. And I wonder what are Those cracks in her skin, Violet line-art patterned on The wan flesh stretched thin; They creep up to her eyes and Within moments are gone By a blink, a single star. Her fingers are shaking When she tries to speak, Like spiders spinning nervously A web that must be solid, not weak, To carry the weight of several— Thus, they weave it fervidly In a manner quite breathtaking.
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Sep 5, 2018
Sep 5, 2018 at 12:37 AM UTC
Spider Veins
The clouds had being fair And the birds were chirpy Soaring in the blue skies;and gyre the coconut trees While the gently breeze Blew;and the branches skid Side by side fluttering And notably,the birds vocal the ditty of love She sat beneath And I laid on her tighs Dedition like a pet But as I goggled through her bra To her face;I met The frolics of her hair And fantasized Till I traced down her lips As the juices she sipped Smack dab on my neck And trail my chest I grasp her hands and licked them As she span to mob them "You're beautiful"I said and smiled Looking through her eyes Sssssssssshh!!shut up"she muttered" She lean and held my chest to hers And fervidly she kissed on my lips All at once,the droplets of waters Dangling in the air Broke the light And pave path of the spectum To flaunt its melange Emblem on us That moment she troth Not to open her eyes But sing till the sun Disappear over the horizon I toss myself And learnt it was all a dream That moment,that hour,that minute I made a wish Lord I pray this dream one more time ©Historian E.Lexano
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Apr 19, 2015
Apr 19, 2015 at 8:00 PM UTC
it was all a dream
Loves purpose To everything there is a season,my love,and our season is now at an end. I am in the midst of shattered,and discarded dreams. Gathering the pieces to sew them; I know I can no longer pretend. I look back to when we first met,and love was like a river between us. It flowed freely,washing away all my doubts,and I drank of it fervidly. The river has now become polluted and dirty,I look in your eyes and see your disgust. We shared something sweet;I could feel your desire. It was exquisite to be so adored. You compared my beauty to that of a goddess,I was the epitome of grace. Then you grew tired of my wit,annoyed with my charms,the love I gave you was abhorred. Im saddened it’s over;our bliss is hollow. I’ll pick up my heart and go on. Everything in life fills a purpose,and the purpose of you has been served. The next season I pray to be one of healing,and love's bitter sting in my memory, gone. Randy McPeek
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Jun 16, 2016
Jun 16, 2016 at 8:24 PM UTC
Loves purpose
Oh, I take leave of my senses gently In front of your image smiling witchily. Shine bright, shine bright till I recall Who am I, who are you? My brain is itchy... Am I well? Yes, I am. Am I well?! I am not. Deadly freezing in your absence, Yet it is glowing, Yet it is hot I am 'a couple of years alive', You are 'an eternity old'. You fervidly turn around, However, the Sun is cold. Urging to dissolve myself: The deepest bliss of sadness... The symptoms are emerging Of my future madness. My soul has an itch to hell And my dreams will come true. Even maybe it's not me, But just my devil loves you
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Feb 26, 2020
Feb 26, 2020 at 1:49 AM UTC
A bit of madness
I shall arise and raise a glass To writhing verse and broken prayer And pass through minutes of neglect I hoped I’d find you there The hazel wood is rich with fairies The Sirens move through dappled grass Fervidly chased by child or lover And I shall rise and watch them pass Long were my days when the summer came But the fishermen bade me beware Dark as red wine was the sea that I sailed I just prayed that I might find you there For the ocean was dressed in its fancy Of sea nymphs and monsters of glass Often fought by hero and wizard O I hoped that you might let them pass Well, in all of this rumour and roaring I had cast my soul to the sea And passed through neglect and high fancy And hoped that there you’d find me
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Jun 8, 2021
Jun 8, 2021 at 8:36 AM UTC
Song of the Wandering Seafarer
My brand new soles passing through my erstwhile souls I keep clambering up, leaving my former body I keep growing, I keep outgrowing I keep changing, I keep forgetting Yet, my smallest voice keeps singing to me   Yet, my inner child keeps remembering me The only space where my smile sparks, fervidly The only flame that won’t suffocate me, Eternally...
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Apr 3, 2023
Apr 3, 2023 at 2:47 PM UTC
“An Indelible Flame”