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"gibes" poems
Will you conquer my heart with your beauty; my sould going out from afar? Shall I fall to your hand as a victim of crafty and cautions shikar? Have I met you and passed you already, unknowing, unthinking and blind? Shall I meet you next session at Simla, O sweetest and best of your kind? Does the P. and O. bear you to meward, or, clad in short frocks in the West, Are you growing the charms that shall capture and torture the heart in my breast? Will you stay in the Plains till September—my passion as warm as the day? Will you bring me to book on the Mountains, or where the thermantidotes play? When the light of your eyes shall make pallid the mean lesser lights I pursue, And the charm of your presence shall lure me from love of the gay “thirteen-two”; When the peg and the pig-skin shall please not; when I buy me Calcutta-build clothes; When I quit the Delight of Wild ***** foreswearing the swearing of oaths ; As a deer to the hand of the hunter when I turn ’mid the gibes of my friends; When the days of my freedom are numbered, and the life of the bachelor ends. Ah, Goddess! child, spinster, or widow—as of old on Mars Hill whey they raised To the God that they knew not an altar—so I, a young Pagan, have praised The Goddess I know not nor worship; yet, if half that men tell me be true, You will come in the future, and therefore these verses are written to you.
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To The Unknown Goddess
An expressionless face upon a white wall; A mask which holds no meaning at all. Uncover the truths behind empty plastic And beneath it lies a story of a matter more drastic. You can criticize the outside but not what's within; Meaningless gibes at a person's fragile skin. Denying the artwork of a creased, bruising hand; Destroying the armor that enables one to stand. Forget all your problems, this is one chance to see Who the person with the mask of a lonely soul could be. With a loss of stubborn pride, you can finally withdraw And befriend all the minds whose depths you never saw.
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May 18, 2014
May 18, 2014 at 1:00 AM UTC
Mask
We knew him well his jest most excellent alas, not infinite *Where be your gibes now? Your gambols? Your songs? Your flashes of merriment, that were wont to set the table on a roar?* (Hamlet, V.i) We laughed, we cried amused and touched Borne on your back, anguish unspoken Poor Yorick. r ~ 8/12/14
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Aug 12, 2014
Aug 12, 2014 at 6:45 AM UTC
Yorick?
I made vows to never depart away from her But alas! Yesterday was her last day with me Oh! How I wish fate would travel as I prefer Constantly listen to me and voluntarily agree I sat right next to her as she suffered Suffered from the merciless disease That smote her with the rusty sword Sword that brought her down to her knees I looked at her hopeless wrinkled appearance Her flowing tresses have now lost its dye She gave me a weak smile as I glanced My conscience can’t smile but just sigh I grasped her hand while she lay on the bed Motionless like the leaf on a flowing rivulet Her existence now hangs on a fragile thread I deeply desire to own a time controller with reset It been an amazing adventure staying with her We occasionally argued but it didn’t proceed long, And for ever and a day cherished each other For our love is eternal and exceptionally strong My white blank sheets on which I inscribe Requests me not to drench with them with tears While the brutal death looks at me and gibes But I know life goes on and I shouldn’t fear Because I still treasure your golden memories Deep down within my mind I still got the views Reminiscences of how we first met and our first kiss And how you whispered in my ears ‘I will always love you’
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May 18, 2017
May 18, 2017 at 10:55 AM UTC
...And I Will Always Love You
Never have I felt true hate until you did the unforgivable I was easy so you saw me as biddable You were right There was no need to fight I tried to leave you with all my might But I couldn't , then you hurt in ways that I can't describe You would discard my feelings and try to make sly gibes You thought as though I had no ears to listen Your words were like as though I had eaten ricin The new emotion of hate gave me a jolt of frisson I can never be repaired you made me this way and you know it You made me so damaged I took it out on myself , so my skin I slit I would sneak out to meet you and walk through my house in manner quit flit I can never take back those cold , regrettable , and horrendous nights But maybe one day I can recover and make a wrong a right
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May 18, 2018
May 18, 2018 at 1:39 PM UTC
La rabbia è beatitudine
Mirror, Mirror in the Heavens! A demeanour equable to viridity, The nascence of a lamb. The supposed handsel from the welkin! Mirror, Mirror in the Heavens! A swaying of a quixotic mind, The dance from the societal crwth; The derogation of the lamb via gibes. Mirror, Mirror in the Heavens! A continual lampoon – The spawn of a chapfallen eagle. The brainchild of a timorous creature. Mirror, Mirror in the Heavens! A diagnosis of a bird in incommunicado with flight; A late palpation, albeit. The societal routine…
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Jun 30, 2020
Jun 30, 2020 at 1:39 PM UTC
Mirror, Mirror in the Heavens...