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"gra" poems
. **■■■■■■ |.....l.....| |.....l.....|** • let the ticks on my wri- st•mirr- or   that of     my pulse    • for  what i fail to cle- nch in fist•in my heart, nev- er falters; never •••••dulls••••• **□□□□□■12■□□□□□   ■11            ^              1■   ■10                 I                 2■   ■9                    ●----->         3■   ■8                                      4■ ■7                                 5■ □□□□□□■6■□□□□□□** ••••••for•••••• with each tick of the hand • is a glimpse into the uncert- ain future • let  slip the  loo- se   gra- ins     of sand•c- lose the tempor- al  gaps to bring you...... much clos- er•
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Aug 25, 2015
Aug 25, 2015 at 11:58 AM UTC
Elapse
Jiwa ku terbang Raga ku hilang Raga ku menangis Hati ku mencari Saay hancur hati ku Berkeping-keping bagai sisik Susah dicari untuk dihiasi lagi Untuk menjadi seutuhnya hati Serpihan hati ini terbang Sisa, ku peluk erat sampai ku mati Sampai kembali lagi Jiwa dan raga ku ke sini Tempat terindah kini hatiku Saat menemukan mereka Dalam buaian hangat Hidupku indah untuk selamanya Le Gra, created by. Aridea Purple
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Oct 22, 2011
Oct 22, 2011 at 8:52 AM UTC
Seutuhnya Hati
folks   this is the last song of the evening   time for one last round   so pick 'em up and   slam 'em down...   couples headin'   to the dance hall floor   some lonesome doves   walkin' out the door   take a look around   into the lonely fa-ces   broken hearts   yearnin' for tender gra-ces   see the hopeful eyes   lookin' back at you   you've seen each other   from across the room   if you act now   you wont be turned awa-y   another day   might be too la-te      oh i know   life ain't been kind   we've got - wounded hearts   but there's still time   so - here's a chance   ya never know   tho it's   just a dance   it could be more    so ya   take her hand   pull her in real close   music playin'   soft and slow   you close your eyes   as she softly si-ghs      starlit shadows   from a disco globe   we fade to black   on this winding road   lost and lonely   we pay the toll   just one last dance   before we go   just one last da-nce   before we go      and these bitter days   we watch them waste away   into the whiskey nights and   the smoke filled haze   we're singin'   Willie -n- Waylon   pray the music keeps playin'   as we drift away   into this whiskey haze   shadows of a memory   keep draggin' ya down   one last round   you slam it down   you close your eyes   as she soflty si-ghs   gently swayin'   across the floor      starlit shadows   from a disco globe   we fade to black   on this winding road   lost and lonely   we pay the toll   just one last dance   before we go   just one last da-nce   before we go
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Nov 4, 2018
Nov 4, 2018 at 8:29 PM UTC
Last Call
folks   this is the last song of the evening   time for one last round   so pick 'em up and   slam 'em down...   couples headin'   to the dance hall floor   some lonesome doves   walkin' out the door   take a look around   into the lonely fa-ces   broken hearts   yearnin' for tender gra-ces   see the hopeful eyes   lookin' back at you   you've seen each other   from across the room   if you act now   you wont be turned awa-y   another day   might be too la-te      oh i know   life ain't been kind   we've got - wounded hearts   but there's still time   so - here's a chance   ya never know   tho it's   just a dance   it could be more    so ya   take her hand   pull her in real close   music playin'   soft and slow   you close your eyes   as she softly si-ghs      starlit shadows   from a disco globe   we fade to black   on this winding road   lost and lonely   we pay the toll   just one last dance   before we go   just one last da-nce   before we go      and these bitter days   we watch them waste away   into the whiskey nights and   the smoke filled haze   we're singin'   Willie -n- Waylon   pray the music keeps playin'   as we drift away   into this whiskey haze   shadows of a memory   keep draggin' ya down   one last round   you slam it down   you close your eyes   as she soflty si-ghs   gently swayin'   across the floor      starlit shadows   from a disco globe   we fade to black   on this winding road   lost and lonely   we pay the toll   just one last dance   before we go   just one last da-nce   before we go
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74
Bunda... Lahirkan aku di dunia Itu berkat Tuhan Yang Maha Esa Bunda... Mengandung ku selama 9 bulan Bertaruh nyawa demi nyawa Bunda... Besarkan aku bersama Ayah Membimbing ku hingga sekolah Bundaku... Dahulu tidak sekolah Namun ia pintar Bundaku... Berjuang untukku Le Gra, Aridea Purple
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Oct 19, 2011
Oct 19, 2011 at 11:51 AM UTC
Bunda
Deep perfume seeps still from the fallen rose Down down endlessly   filling the air with all that is pure, and soon all that is not     diamonds glisten upon its skin Sparkling in the summer heat, he   knows this won't be the end moisture condenses around his roots, the tree growing up into   heaven, life surging around him, springing, growing, ripping   through the thick and crusted earth. Pun i ca gra na tum is such a complex word for what here has come to pass. the roots shooting     down and spreading, their mirrors filling the sky, soaking up our   shining beams of phantasmal brilliance. Only those loved have names wouldn't you Agree some are special  to the producing world, and Others are left to rot, take the fruit of a morning lily, no one loves her, yet she bears all the same something stirs within his being, some new body grows out from   inside, some new some new some new something new. The sky fills with blood espousal carillon, their pods filling rich and new,   chiming out for all to hear the dawn rising, the birds flying, yes, hear them fly above as you watch their song paint the sky in cool purples and blues. Color is so trite and love is so outdated and there are those who wish for the end of the world as well Creation falling to the Ground as the rosebud does in winter united in final ecstasy, the bells descend as dying mistrals unveil our sinking crown, sound-bow dripping away
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Oct 24, 2017
Oct 24, 2017 at 8:19 PM UTC
Pomegranate
Craving one's cinnamon zest To pull mine hair To showeth me to her caress To maketh amare in moonlight crescent To whirl the fellow sun To steameth up the castle window's On telephone drenchy fun To walketh in lost forest's To Mardi gra's brine soaking, Of ourn brim to floweth over by the ounce!!!!
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Jul 1, 2015
Jul 1, 2015 at 6:29 PM UTC
Cinnamon zest crave
.                               " Oh                        grandmother"                      she said,  "what                     big ears you have"                     "All the better to                       hear  you  with                       m y dear." "But                       gr and  mother,                       w hat  big  eyes                       you have. " "All                       the  better to se                       e you with""But                       gra n d mother,                       what     a   b i  g                       mouth  you  h a                       ve" All  the   bet                      ter to    eat    you        o  u  t   w i t h."  "B   u t    g r  a  n d     m  o  t  h  e  r,  w    h  a  t    a     B   I   G        ****    y o u         h ave."     " All the           b etter to               F U C K  you."
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Oct 17, 2014
Oct 17, 2014 at 5:46 PM UTC
Little Red Riding Hood ****
Valentines is torture, And my birthday is a mess, New Years is a lot of noise, And Arbor Day's A pest, Halloween's a horror, But I guess I must confess, That I really don't hate Christmas! Flag Day is infernal, April Fool is just a bore, Mardi Gra's A waste, Unless you own a candy store, All these other holidays, I admit that I abhor, But I really don't hate Christmas!
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Sep 8, 2017
Sep 8, 2017 at 12:43 AM UTC
I Don't Hate Christmas
Making me sing daily for her, Far used to be the sorrows, Maddening was my love, Made her feel special.. Me singing & writing poetry, Separately for her was regular... For her I will improve myself, Testing my capabilities I am, Reeling the love I kindle inside, Peeling I'm my hard outer shell.. Companion of mine is perfect, Together we gelled just so well, Tomorrow seems very golden, Grappling with all the troubles, Challenging time with my effort, Focused were all my techniques, Graduating in the field of love, Completed seemed my jigsaw.
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Apr 26, 2015
Apr 26, 2015 at 3:03 AM UTC
Truest Love (2o Acrostic)
Be gra'te full when you die and be one in your own head. :-) :-) :-) :-) :-) Paul@
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Oct 9, 2013
Oct 9, 2013 at 1:59 PM UTC
Be Grateful.
to avoid the pitfall of prospective homelessness which near future prospect induces existential angst i confess. Today (end of rope rhyme rote approximately deux orbitz round the sun), i wanted ta die and bid god riddance grandly going gamesomely gra grave, de deum, and cymbal crash to Bing mulct emotionally, physically and spiritually - all the grinding hardships would be gone in a flash how tempting to seek ot a solution sans hemlock or other deadly potion, whereby toothless mouth need not gnash boot simply swallow and drink from the goblet of mortal freedoms renting psych *** under with purposelessness mine hash tag, which bout with suicide while n the edge of thirteen - Anorexia nervosa defeated - then as now experience 10,000 banshee maniacs whip lash lacerating, flagellating, and repeatedly rousing thoughts shin to circle back to why death be not proud when life on par with a mash up of ennui, futile gobbledygook housing incubus analogous luft waffe bombardiers quash the joie de vivre per je ne sais quois spritely spring in step happy jollity, and levity attempt to make light of psychological me's mental illness rash whence thru the (then) lvii roam min years as chief garbage taster of trash hurled my way gnome matter the gremlins dwelt within the Wabash distance to inflict din er of dissonance targeted this mortal for'er abash as soon as he got expelled from the womb, his reddened ears did bash from sonic screaming boom causing astir the nurses into the maternity ward of me late mum sped like dash her, and fast as a comet Prancer doth emulate a con ***** dancer, cuz ova this rude half re: that came a boot from genetic chromosomal dna wash.
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Feb 6, 2018
Feb 6, 2018 at 3:56 AM UTC
Thee grim reaper as pedagogical savior. -
to avoid the pitfall of prospective homelessness which near future prospect induces existential angst i confess. Today (end of rope rhyme rote approximately deux orbitz round the sun), i wanted ta die and bid god riddance grandly going gamesomely gra grave, de deum, and cymbal crash to Bing mulct emotionally, physically and spiritually - all the grinding hardships would be gone in a flash how tempting to seek ot a solution sans hemlock or other deadly potion, whereby toothless mouth need not gnash boot simply swallow and drink from the goblet of mortal freedoms renting psych *** under with purposelessness mine hash tag, which bout with suicide while n the edge of thirteen - Anorexia nervosa defeated - then as now experience 10,000 banshee maniacs whip lash lacerating, flagellating, and repeatedly rousing thoughts shin to circle back to why death be not proud when life on par with a mash up of ennui, futile gobbledygook housing incubus analogous luft waffe bombardiers quash the joie de vivre per je ne sais quois spritely spring in step happy jollity, and levity attempt to make light of psychological me's mental illness rash whence thru the (then) lvii roam min years as chief garbage taster of trash hurled my way gnome matter the gremlins dwelt within the Wabash distance to inflict din er of dissonance targeted this mortal for'er abash as soon as he got expelled from the womb, his reddened ears did bash from sonic screaming boom causing astir the nurses into the maternity ward of me late mum sped like dash her, and fast as a comet Prancer doth emulate a con ***** dancer, cuz ova this rude half re: that came a boot from genetic chromosomal dna wash.
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46
Star Boats Floating Upon Water Clear Starry Night Girl Oh Starry Night Intention Set By Fires Flame Long Ago Girl Yes Long Ago Returning Waters Of Love Divine Starry Night Girl Ire Starry Night By Red Your Dark Still **** Mine Turn Your Eyes World Turn Your Eyes For Her This turn Dru Shift Gra time Gratis Oman Gratins OEM
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Sep 15, 2016
Sep 15, 2016 at 3:56 PM UTC
Star Charte
part of my job (a love poem) <> checking in & on you, part of my job, I explain, need a status update, re and about what’s new, on the flora and fauna studded moors, how’s the traffic in Mumbai, have the Prince and Princess come to visit your nearby island, how’s that pendant I sent hanging, still cracked, letting letters in, the curfew imposition getting in the way of your poetry writing, tell me what it is like to be a young man in Morocco, need your input, do you know that I love imagining being in love with you, so exotic, while I hunker down in a bunker, forty story concrete stories on a gra-nite island, wondering how you pass your Sunday morning, in bed, in church, in your head, seeing poem fireflies coming from the beach, how your language takes, enraptures, captures my cellar pulses electrifying, I am yours unbidden and I forgiven & unfortunate, swimming on the West Coast beaches, pools and eddies, rip tide currants & currents, ******* me into your world and the fun, the challenges of loving you from afar do you know that I love imagining being in love with you, so exotic, locating your presence on the grid, illegally concocting our ionic physics connections in ways you remain so unaware and me, dancing delighted on the edge between blurting out how I feel about you, you, in France, and foreign lands, all over, when you read this, do the hairs sudden tickle, sensing my presence, when grasping you hand, kissing your neck, do you regain/retain consciousness of my affection, plain hard and drawn to you, sans affectations, and we walk in contented silence on country lanes, beach trails, crowded ***** megalopolis city stained small streets, and now that you know that I feel so much desire to grasp you in my adoration hands, will you accept that a man’s love who you have never seen can be so willful strong that you know that I love imagining being in love with you, so exotic, and the pleasure of it grows stronger daily when you send me words that infect me with subtlety severe **** and now I go, the slipping and sliding into the land of having checked in on you, where my job is to love you from afar 8:41AM Sunday March 15th twentyfolded twice
0
Mar 15, 2020
Mar 15, 2020 at 8:54 AM UTC
part of my job (a love poem)
part of my job (a love poem) <> checking in & on you, part of my job, I explain, need a status update, re and about what’s new, on the flora and fauna studded moors, how’s the traffic in Mumbai, have the Prince and Princess come to visit your nearby island, how’s that pendant I sent hanging, still cracked, letting letters in, the curfew imposition getting in the way of your poetry writing, tell me what it is like to be a young man in Morocco, need your input, do you know that I love imagining being in love with you, so exotic, while I hunker down in a bunker, forty story concrete stories on a gra-nite island, wondering how you pass your Sunday morning, in bed, in church, in your head, seeing poem fireflies coming from the beach, how your language takes, enraptures, captures my cellar pulses electrifying, I am yours unbidden and I forgiven & unfortunate, swimming on the West Coast beaches, pools and eddies, rip tide currants & currents, ******* me into your world and the fun, the challenges of loving you from afar do you know that I love imagining being in love with you, so exotic, locating your presence on the grid, illegally concocting our ionic physics connections in ways you remain so unaware and me, dancing delighted on the edge between blurting out how I feel about you, you, in France, and foreign lands, all over, when you read this, do the hairs sudden tickle, sensing my presence, when grasping you hand, kissing your neck, do you regain/retain consciousness of my affection, plain hard and drawn to you, sans affectations, and we walk in contented silence on country lanes, beach trails, crowded ***** megalopolis city stained small streets, and now that you know that I feel so much desire to grasp you in my adoration hands, will you accept that a man’s love who you have never seen can be so willful strong that you know that I love imagining being in love with you, so exotic, and the pleasure of it grows stronger daily when you send me words that infect me with subtlety severe **** and now I go, the slipping and sliding into the land of having checked in on you, where my job is to love you from afar 8:41AM Sunday March 15th twentyfolded twice
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33
da swabian a saxon?!                 nein! then we sorted out                    a prodigy of world war two                    and a calculation: of komora-morda          tank-engine-"room"-gob: as a "father" i tell you:                   keep it strict, the rest remains under the "brigade" of a "journalism"...         da contra dać.... i to byt...                      kres, tym-tam kreska...                    nic i nić... dwie lewe      a raptem dwie              pary sznurówek... kto?                    ten gra i tym szeptem: ochota; blud: pizda,               a tym wart: wilk. o grybo branie: borowik, ciota, rz...                           tzn. kurka: kurva yego mac. no kurva: czytajem yem ten lady... blad... błąd! błąd! lady? 'krajnem? kurva ni wim szto! 'yba 'udy, p.s.
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Feb 20, 2018
Feb 20, 2018 at 10:15 PM UTC
da (give, pronoun inclusive and a future of prompt) / dać (pronoun exclusive and: future "said", will)