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"fullfilment" poems
chaotic impulses lead to irregular rhythm your sun dances over head and aching skeletons rattle their bones, drinking bottomless cups of sand swept up with the dry wind into their eyes and garments that rot and rag about their femurs as they smile dangerously and wink chaotic impulses lead to irregular rhythm a small brook turns into a fierce demon sweeping eddies full of names into its depths and the meek grizzlies paw at the rotting bits of fish left on the shore who gulp in deadly heaps of air for their water-ridden lungs chaotic impulses lead to irregular rhythm leaving an abandoned shock of metal as a refuge for the lonely and frostbitten potatoes are the only accompaniment to twenty five pounds of rice and a lean frame hiding huddled in a mass of snow lay all of the accused chaotic impulses lead to irregular rhythm as thick steel drives through flesh and boe grinding rubber against gravel; metal against metal and screeching high-siren pitches nonstop day and night boring into your skull with the urgency and ceaselessness of a hungry wolf who scares off the weak and the poor, the hungry and the searching; who became one chaotic impulses lead to irregular rhythm and those strange and lonely souls scared off by the fierceness and emptiness of corporations and concrete artists flee into the fierce emptiness of the wilds instead sparing one hardship for the other searching for a fullfilment not found in a box and an empty space that can only be filled by invisible wings chaotic impulses lead to irregular rhythm a frantic dance in a great big monastery the lunatic portrays a Zen within his twitch to layer understanding beneath Zen beneath lunacy with his mad fervor he becomes great and understands real truth - in his own way - and then dies
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Aug 1, 2012
Aug 1, 2012 at 7:12 PM UTC
Wanderlust (Part 1)
chaotic impulses lead to irregular rhythm your sun dances over head and aching skeletons rattle their bones, drinking bottomless cups of sand swept up with the dry wind into their eyes and garments that rot and rag about their femurs as they smile dangerously and wink chaotic impulses lead to irregular rhythm a small brook turns into a fierce demon sweeping eddies full of names into its depths and the meek grizzlies paw at the rotting bits of fish left on the shore who gulp in deadly heaps of air for their water-ridden lungs chaotic impulses lead to irregular rhythm leaving an abandoned shock of metal as a refuge for the lonely and frostbitten potatoes are the only accompaniment to twenty five pounds of rice and a lean frame hiding huddled in a mass of snow lay all of the accused chaotic impulses lead to irregular rhythm as thick steel drives through flesh and boe grinding rubber against gravel; metal against metal and screeching high-siren pitches nonstop day and night boring into your skull with the urgency and ceaselessness of a hungry wolf who scares off the weak and the poor, the hungry and the searching; who became one chaotic impulses lead to irregular rhythm and those strange and lonely souls scared off by the fierceness and emptiness of corporations and concrete artists flee into the fierce emptiness of the wilds instead sparing one hardship for the other searching for a fullfilment not found in a box and an empty space that can only be filled by invisible wings chaotic impulses lead to irregular rhythm a frantic dance in a great big monastery the lunatic portrays a Zen within his twitch to layer understanding beneath Zen beneath lunacy with his mad fervor he becomes great and understands real truth - in his own way - and then dies
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A wish like a wild fire, kept burning inside her heart, she couldn't contain it any more, so  whispered it to the heart of night, fearing it would be forgotten easily as the night advances to a destination unknown. But the first golden ray of morning light, she gathered was the sweet fulfillment she didn't know she sought all these days.
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Jul 1, 2015
Jul 1, 2015 at 2:22 PM UTC
The Fullfilment
The wind blows my hair, blows through my soul, blows my worries, sorrows and fears for that moment. I close my eyes and feel tranquil. It is peaceful the wind, in its own loudness. The wind gales come and stop abrubtly, like taking a short nap. Winds come again like whispers from angels, air from their wings. Angels are amongst me, I cannot see them, I cannot feel them, yet I know they are there. It is my escape to nature. I open my eyes to the rippling of water. Pure peace, unthreatening. Sun shines on the water like stained glass, dangling crystals over the water. I feel an inner peace I could not achieve in my own mind. I am one soul. A lost soul. Searching for a place of peace within myself. If only to feel this peace for eternity I would find my soul. One of purpose, of meaning, of desire, of true happiness, fullfilment and hope.
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Nov 17, 2014
Nov 17, 2014 at 1:12 PM UTC
serenity
After defecating no tissue to wipe our buttocks no dry leaves to clean our hands no water to wash our body the government promised the tissue But their promise is christ second coming thousand years elapse no sign of fullfilment flies feast on our feaces gurnor chased away The air is Carbon (iv) Oxide feaces taint it when is the true Messaiah coming? Perhaps! God is the answer the mother hen will protect her children against the hawk At dawn the dogs swallowed our feaces,leaked our hands The answer is God
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Feb 15, 2016
Feb 15, 2016 at 6:17 AM UTC
THE FEACES
A MADMAN’S GESTURE In rooms of a time I called yesterday The evenings were red I felt The sunsets meant something final to me A pointless hand gestured meaningfully A sentence expressed passions Where else did I paint scenes of life You saw the conversations The attempts In instances hopeful I cried once or twice To create The hope of love And fullfilment, how strange Glancing nowhere Walking somewhere Where do I exist? I can be, I can love Yet, in loneliness’ laws Who is there To love?
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Jul 9, 2013
Jul 9, 2013 at 5:35 AM UTC
A MADMAN’S GESTURE
Oh how I wish I could walk with the aura of my namesake. That I would never have doubts. That my self-confidence would never waver. That I would have any confidence whatsoever. That I would have a sassy remark about everything. That I would always have a comeback prepared. That I would never be afraid to use it. That I would always have a funny story to tell. That I could always be there for everyone. That everyone would care. That I would never feel “dead inside”. But, alas, I am a person. I am not a wish-fullfilment fantasy. I will never grow into her, because despite my feel-good delusions, I am not her. And she will never be me.
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Nov 23, 2015
Nov 23, 2015 at 2:32 PM UTC
Her
. ( in response to today's DAILY ) I gaze into your eyes ! I see myself Struggling for existence // We are both so empty Yet we say   WE  are      In  love ||| The winds ! Blowing all the children into the oblivion Of vacuous movie theaters Where     WE   watch STAR WARS 7 & make our oppressors wealthy and pretend that something REAL is being said /// Oxymorons of hateful love We talk about each other as total strangers •• We need each other but dare not show weakness ! :::: We run and hide in our own darknesses  and say we are LOST !! • We write our poems and are praised for our pain But we will  NOT unite in LOVE AND TRULY BE FREE !!! :;: We claim THEY are oppressing US But in reality There is  no THEY and there is no US // And another day Filled with emptiness Is wasted NO      THEY   ..... MAKES .... US    DO THIS !! )( We will not address our fear )( We are not poets Only victims of our own pure. Self abuse ,
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Dec 18, 2015
Dec 18, 2015 at 4:25 PM UTC
.... empty with fullfilment
One day everything leaves that you own all blackness can't hear the sound of your soul Back to square one, loophole as you go round in a whole senses tense sense a consequence that slowly unfolds detached from the string of existence enveloped in riches, drifting in lost ones wishes you miss out on missing a mingled fulfillment a fullfilling fullfilment you left it all to your children content with contentment dreaming about life all it seems is allright you're not afraid of this ending taking your place in the fabric of space slowly drifting and mending objects move closer you feel a light bending a strong pull as you feel the times ending in a last sigh you let go as you went from life to enter a Black Hole Light reaches your eyes, different place different time, different face, different smile retain a sense of self in this strange state of mind reembraced reïnstated well on your way with retracing your self Never a constant, always developing human curiosity, aahh for-the-hell-of-it blaze a bit be a mellow kid you carve your road soon enough meet old friends like Broken Trust and you'll carry weight untill your shoulders crush fight and re-see one end that's close to us Death.
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Mar 16, 2016
Mar 16, 2016 at 12:51 AM UTC
Death.
The Joy of Reading Is like no other its a peaceful fullfilment that lights you from within. It Transports you to strange and wonderful places Some you've heard about some you never could have dreamed of even in your wildest dreams It can take your stress away and leave you in a happy place It settles around you like an old familair Blanket Comforting you and soothing you in ways only reading can
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Oct 29, 2014
Oct 29, 2014 at 12:14 PM UTC
The Joy Of Reading
To be in peace and have an alignment Our hearts need love for refinement With love every second is a precious moment Without it we live in torment and we can't reach fullfilment
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Mar 16, 2017
Mar 16, 2017 at 8:08 AM UTC
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