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"grandest" poems
Fly with me to Paris and We will climb the Eiffel Tower We'll see the Louvre And walk along the Avenue des Champs Elysees We will walk alone together along the great Seine River And latch a lovers lock upon the bridge above the water We can picnic on the grass in the grandest park in Paris Then embrace within the shadows of Notre Dame Cathedral Where there We'll swear Our love forever sure We will seal it with a kiss And know We never missed The times and places that make A life worthwhile. -R. 8.26.17 -LA
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Aug 26, 2017
Aug 26, 2017 at 11:22 PM UTC
-A Life Worthwhile (Fly With Me)
There is a harsh beauty in mathematics. Under curves and over slopes, Equations rise and fall endlessly In a perfectly measured void. Optimized, rationalized, sterilized; Formulas that never lie, Theorems looming before us Like an archaic God, A golden deity whose Volume is maximized. How I dream of drifting in this flux, Concave up and concave down, Riding the sign of my second derivative For positive and negative, For better and worse. I would not travel alone; With C by my side, Friend, ally, brother, Always paired with my antiderivative, For whenever we journey back Into the past, it is necessary To have a companion to pull us out again In case we are unsure of where we started. Rules and laws Strict organization, control; There is a harsh beauty in mathematics. Order; two plus two is always four. Sines and cosines and theta All dancing in the unit circle of life, A conga line that joins itself To form a mathematical ouroboros. But the harshest of the harsh beauties Presented in this Divine Subject Is that though there is an infinite capacity For positivity and growth, So too is there the possibility of stretching Endlessly towards negativity forever. However, it is much more terrifying To lie in the middle; To be undefined, unknowable, and to add Or subtract to no effect; The most fear inducing, mysterious, and gorgeous number Of zero; nothing yet something, Infinite yet not, The most grand of all contradictions. A hole; a jump; a discontinuity, Easily removed from life and smoothed out If you just apply the formulas. Graphs and coordinates, integers and ordered pairs, Is that not what life is? We live within the grandest equation, Each our own variable, Constantly solving for ourselves With the harsh beauties of mathematics.
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Jun 2, 2013
Jun 2, 2013 at 10:27 PM UTC
Calculus
There is a harsh beauty in mathematics. Under curves and over slopes, Equations rise and fall endlessly In a perfectly measured void. Optimized, rationalized, sterilized; Formulas that never lie, Theorems looming before us Like an archaic God, A golden deity whose Volume is maximized. How I dream of drifting in this flux, Concave up and concave down, Riding the sign of my second derivative For positive and negative, For better and worse. I would not travel alone; With C by my side, Friend, ally, brother, Always paired with my antiderivative, For whenever we journey back Into the past, it is necessary To have a companion to pull us out again In case we are unsure of where we started. Rules and laws Strict organization, control; There is a harsh beauty in mathematics. Order; two plus two is always four. Sines and cosines and theta All dancing in the unit circle of life, A conga line that joins itself To form a mathematical ouroboros. But the harshest of the harsh beauties Presented in this Divine Subject Is that though there is an infinite capacity For positivity and growth, So too is there the possibility of stretching Endlessly towards negativity forever. However, it is much more terrifying To lie in the middle; To be undefined, unknowable, and to add Or subtract to no effect; The most fear inducing, mysterious, and gorgeous number Of zero; nothing yet something, Infinite yet not, The most grand of all contradictions. A hole; a jump; a discontinuity, Easily removed from life and smoothed out If you just apply the formulas. Graphs and coordinates, integers and ordered pairs, Is that not what life is? We live within the grandest equation, Each our own variable, Constantly solving for ourselves With the harsh beauties of mathematics.
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54
I look for you In passing faces A stranger's glance In haunted places I feel you among Nature's grandest setting It is you that I remember Even when I'm forgetting I see you wherever I go In everyone I meet Your words echo in conversations That pass me on the street Your soft, easy way That safe familiar tone That always takes me back To a time long gone
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Jul 20, 2016
Jul 20, 2016 at 1:34 PM UTC
A Time Long Gone
Vengeance is for God to have, But today I lay religion down to rest The demon in my mind has been relentless, whispering at my behest He has been in his cage far too long, he is unyieldingly repressed I not only want to free him, I want to put his imagination to the test My mind's eye dark and searching, the corners of my sinister mind I have now become your worst fear and mine devils intertwined My mental and emotional state, has made the inhumanity refined I hate how you made me long for your pain, I am now your kind Your flesh is but a canvas and your screams will be to no avail You’re now mine, your soul will beg for mercy on the grandest scale I will assault your every sense, leaving no minute detail Until your body is lying lifeless, pointless, broken and frail I will take my time to revive you, bringing you back to my device There will be no amount of pain I inflict, that my heart will suffice Before I am done with your miserable existence, infliction so precise I will nourish every animalistic desire,until we felt you paid the price You have uprooted in my heart an evil, that cannot be undone The angel of death is upon you waiting, your suffering just begun There is a special place in hell for you and I want you to see it And if I burn with you for my revenge, then I say so be it Taking your pride, shoving it down your throat with my baron hands all that I can taste right now, what the voice in my head demands For you there is no more wasted life, your breath will let you endure And there is no second thought behind my vengeance, my hate is pure With deeds now done and lifeless you lay At my feet, which death did not show haste A smile without tears did appease my lust For your soul and blood that I did taste
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Jan 20, 2011
Jan 20, 2011 at 6:45 AM UTC
Vengeance is Mine
Vengeance is for God to have, But today I lay religion down to rest The demon in my mind has been relentless, whispering at my behest He has been in his cage far too long, he is unyieldingly repressed I not only want to free him, I want to put his imagination to the test My mind's eye dark and searching, the corners of my sinister mind I have now become your worst fear and mine devils intertwined My mental and emotional state, has made the inhumanity refined I hate how you made me long for your pain, I am now your kind Your flesh is but a canvas and your screams will be to no avail You’re now mine, your soul will beg for mercy on the grandest scale I will assault your every sense, leaving no minute detail Until your body is lying lifeless, pointless, broken and frail I will take my time to revive you, bringing you back to my device There will be no amount of pain I inflict, that my heart will suffice Before I am done with your miserable existence, infliction so precise I will nourish every animalistic desire,until we felt you paid the price You have uprooted in my heart an evil, that cannot be undone The angel of death is upon you waiting, your suffering just begun There is a special place in hell for you and I want you to see it And if I burn with you for my revenge, then I say so be it Taking your pride, shoving it down your throat with my baron hands all that I can taste right now, what the voice in my head demands For you there is no more wasted life, your breath will let you endure And there is no second thought behind my vengeance, my hate is pure With deeds now done and lifeless you lay At my feet, which death did not show haste A smile without tears did appease my lust For your soul and blood that I did taste
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28
Earth greatest, grandest Mother no metaphor here but ten-thousand teats feeding all children
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Sep 10, 2015
Sep 10, 2015 at 7:21 PM UTC
Pachamama
Neither in the vividness of the arches of a cathedral, Nor in the dangling bells and echoing rituals of a temple, Neither on the holiest banks of Nile or Ganges, Nor among the peaks of the grandest Mountain, There is no augury, there is no God, is there no God? And if there is, Why are the eyes of lives haunted by the cruel dreams of disbelief? Why is banishment tangled around the feet of a truth seeker? Why the perverse thoughts and deeds ruling the Mankind? Why the pious body and mind are today full of grief? If there’s God, Why is this sea of cold blood on a high tide? If there’s God, Why are the innocent lives being wasted? If there’s God, Why are the good being handcuffed? If there’s God, Why the darkness is today the source of light? The slaps of violence on the face of peace is a sign of doom, If there’s no God, then these drops of bloods cry for whom? But GOD is that moment which is beyond knowledge and wit, That one cipher which has taken centuries and yet not deciphered, That one point of thought where the minds seize to think, That one decision which stops a man from giving up, That one drop of tear from the eyes of an Oppressed, That one source of energy which makes us to take a stand, That one voice of truth which demolishes the works of lie, That one smile of innocence which equals a million shouts, That one silver lining which makes us believe in ourselves, Calls Aloud and makes us believe, that there is A GOD, And He’s Everywhere, With everyone, and Will always be.
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Mar 15, 2015
Mar 15, 2015 at 7:33 AM UTC
That One Belief
Neither in the vividness of the arches of a cathedral, Nor in the dangling bells and echoing rituals of a temple, Neither on the holiest banks of Nile or Ganges, Nor among the peaks of the grandest Mountain, There is no augury, there is no God, is there no God? And if there is, Why are the eyes of lives haunted by the cruel dreams of disbelief? Why is banishment tangled around the feet of a truth seeker? Why the perverse thoughts and deeds ruling the Mankind? Why the pious body and mind are today full of grief? If there’s God, Why is this sea of cold blood on a high tide? If there’s God, Why are the innocent lives being wasted? If there’s God, Why are the good being handcuffed? If there’s God, Why the darkness is today the source of light? The slaps of violence on the face of peace is a sign of doom, If there’s no God, then these drops of bloods cry for whom? But GOD is that moment which is beyond knowledge and wit, That one cipher which has taken centuries and yet not deciphered, That one point of thought where the minds seize to think, That one decision which stops a man from giving up, That one drop of tear from the eyes of an Oppressed, That one source of energy which makes us to take a stand, That one voice of truth which demolishes the works of lie, That one smile of innocence which equals a million shouts, That one silver lining which makes us believe in ourselves, Calls Aloud and makes us believe, that there is A GOD, And He’s Everywhere, With everyone, and Will always be.
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26
This lighthearted word that makes you want to look up to see the allure and intrigue that the sky holds Every collection of soft, fluffy whiteness opens the door to another portal for the imagination They shift expand and disperse like most things in life with a much faster pace I watch as they gently meld into one another Then fade into blue the grandest magic show I have ever seen And off on the horizon this sumptuous mound seems to grow from the core of the planet Reaching higher with more light and luminance than all the rest combined I watch as it coats the sky for as far as the eye can see Wrapped in the glorious hues of the setting sun in the midst of heaven I see you
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Apr 12, 2016
Apr 12, 2016 at 12:09 PM UTC
cloud ****
I wrote this poem just for you With my mind racing and my heart beating Among amorous feelings and thoughts of you My love for you is and always will be true You are my eternal sunshine of the spotless mind You are the one I can never leave behind When I first met you I knew it was a sign   You are so implausibly beautiful to my eyes You deserve the world's grandest jewels Emeralds, diamonds, sapphires, amethysts And anything else that money can buy When we met each other some time ago From the first time we said 'Hello' I knew you’d be the one To bestow my life with love and fun My words forever fail to express What I felt when you said ‘Yes’ To a Taco Bell hot sauce packet That said ‘Will You Marry Me?’ And when I held you near On the coldest day of the year When we both said ‘I Do’ And you became my wife I knew that our love was true That we’d always be together To see this movie we call life All the way thru We’ve had our ups and downs But eternal bliss is where we’re bound Together in each other’s embrace Everything we long for will come around   You are the only thing I need I’d sell my words, my talents, and me If you’d agree to proceed To be mine everlasting And never sever our affection And always retain This one piece of information: No matter what comes our way I will always love you Each and every day
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Oct 11, 2011
Oct 11, 2011 at 9:22 AM UTC
I Wrote This Poem Just For You
When stretch'd on one's bed With a fierce-throbbing head, Which preculdes alike thought or repose, How little one cares For the grandest affairs That may busy the world as it goes! How little one feels For the waltzes and reels Of our Dance-loving friends at a Ball! How slight one's concern To conjecture or learn What their flounces or hearts may befall. How little one minds If a company dines On the best that the Season affords! How short is one's muse O'er the Sauces and Stews, Or the Guests, be they Beggars or Lords. How little the Bells, Ring they Peels, toll they Knells, Can attract our attention or Ears! The Bride may be married, The Corse may be carried And touch nor our hopes nor our fears. Our own ****** pains Ev'ry faculty chains; We can feel on no subject besides. Tis in health and in ease We the power must seize For our friends and our souls to provide.
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3.6k
When Stretch'd on One's Bed
You change my mind like a massive industrial factory. Because flowers. Supposing friendly. What if therefore. You crush my forethought in your mandible machinery For after yellow. Beside a lake. Through crimson humility. I melt under your molten supervision on the grandest scale Melodic franchise. Hypothesize sunbeams. And if replace me. You reorient my viewpoints on your conveyor belt of liquidated mellow jurisdiction.
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Oct 10, 2013
Oct 10, 2013 at 2:33 AM UTC
Mind Industrialization
Inhale. Hold. Submerge. This is all the grandest illusion that’s one disappointment away from shattering. Take a deep breath feel the pain in your chest. Every night I drown in a wine glass Dive off the ledge with such fever and ferocity, The splash of a cannonball-- No high marks from the judges. When you look at me, I know now it’s irreverent. We are a lie. In the deep end, where I can’t touch anymore. Time to wash away this sin Hurt doesn't go, It just lingers Like our ghosts, lurking behind closed doors. I can’t be rid of you Because I don’t want to be. Go on, Haunt me until the end. But I know You cannot swim so for now, I'll sink further and further into wine so dark I disappear.
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Oct 21, 2012
Oct 21, 2012 at 4:49 PM UTC
Swimming
On April 10th, 1846 on the ship Devonshire from Liverpool, one Catherine McCarty, age 17 arrived in New York during times most cruel. She made this long journey to escape the famine occurring in her native Ireland. We don't know if she arrived alone or with family or whether she was married or accompanied with a boyfriend. The passenger arrival manifest has her listed a servant as the occupation she did. Based only on her age and her name, many historians have speculated and proclaimed that she's the mother of BILLY the Kid. Billy's mother died on September 16th in the year of 1874. She was 45 years old according to her obituary. Combine the above information and we know one thing for sure. Immigrant Catherine shared the same age and name as did the true mother of Billy. It seems that due to health reasons, Catherine McCarty's life had gone onto searching for dryer climate out west as a single mother of two. One of her sons would live a full life and then fade into obscurity. Her other son would die very young and become one of the greatest legends to ever be. No one knows anything about the boys' father or whether they shared the same one. Did he/they die or abandon the family? Your guess is as good as anyone's. Catherine was a strong, independent, gregarious lass whom everyone seemed to like and enjoy very dearly. She earned a living selling baked goods to customers she had amassed and by also doing much of the neighborhood's ***** laundry. She also dabbled in real estate, purchasing what little property she could afford, and to earn extra income she'd often open the door to her home and welcome all those willing to pay room and board. It was clearly shown that she could take on the responsibility alone, as far as providing and caring for her boys. When she wasn't earning employment, she'd occasionally indulge in the enjoyment that every good, loving mother enjoys. After schooling her children, she'd take them to local dances where she was known to be one of the grandest dancers on the dance floor, but of all the dance partners she'd dance with there was always one she could never resist and he'd want to dance with her more and more. "Of all my dance partners," she told him one night, "you are my favorite one." To see her lovingly gaze into his eyes, it certainly would come as no surprise to learn that William Henry was Catherine McCarty's favored son. To Be Continued
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Jul 7, 2010
Jul 7, 2010 at 4:47 PM UTC
04. Catherine McCarty
On April 10th, 1846 on the ship Devonshire from Liverpool, one Catherine McCarty, age 17 arrived in New York during times most cruel. She made this long journey to escape the famine occurring in her native Ireland. We don't know if she arrived alone or with family or whether she was married or accompanied with a boyfriend. The passenger arrival manifest has her listed a servant as the occupation she did. Based only on her age and her name, many historians have speculated and proclaimed that she's the mother of BILLY the Kid. Billy's mother died on September 16th in the year of 1874. She was 45 years old according to her obituary. Combine the above information and we know one thing for sure. Immigrant Catherine shared the same age and name as did the true mother of Billy. It seems that due to health reasons, Catherine McCarty's life had gone onto searching for dryer climate out west as a single mother of two. One of her sons would live a full life and then fade into obscurity. Her other son would die very young and become one of the greatest legends to ever be. No one knows anything about the boys' father or whether they shared the same one. Did he/they die or abandon the family? Your guess is as good as anyone's. Catherine was a strong, independent, gregarious lass whom everyone seemed to like and enjoy very dearly. She earned a living selling baked goods to customers she had amassed and by also doing much of the neighborhood's ***** laundry. She also dabbled in real estate, purchasing what little property she could afford, and to earn extra income she'd often open the door to her home and welcome all those willing to pay room and board. It was clearly shown that she could take on the responsibility alone, as far as providing and caring for her boys. When she wasn't earning employment, she'd occasionally indulge in the enjoyment that every good, loving mother enjoys. After schooling her children, she'd take them to local dances where she was known to be one of the grandest dancers on the dance floor, but of all the dance partners she'd dance with there was always one she could never resist and he'd want to dance with her more and more. "Of all my dance partners," she told him one night, "you are my favorite one." To see her lovingly gaze into his eyes, it certainly would come as no surprise to learn that William Henry was Catherine McCarty's favored son. To Be Continued
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38
"if it pleases my Lord? Yes it pleases thee" made famous by the English formal gibberish saying nothing well phrased for max words zero knowledge this is ingrained in there offspring Jackal smile and fancy words the goose that could lay no egg alas injustice is a good egg penny wise pound foolish the grandest motto ever how proud can you feel, wallowing in mud and smiling being led by the noise, following bread crumbs who is the real servant and who is the master? i know you have lost control you serve the master you choose, thought it would have been an envy apparent you wee outsmarted, not outgunned but know this my master owns it all creator of all master of all
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Mar 25, 2013
Mar 25, 2013 at 2:35 AM UTC
if it pleases my lord
It consists of this, all of it and none I found solace in that which I could not hold but only cherish as fond memoirs of a terrible moment in time Never full, never empty it turned into an addiction derogation of the unwise, with no premise bawls and shrieks have no place here this is silent lucidity capsized hundreds of expressions explaining one thing one thing that explains it all Destination: lost with no means to propel the self into a promising new day, pray tell, what will break down the wall self loathing and misanthropy creates alone in a crowd, here, but far away none of it is that important anyway The smile stealer, grin eater mood killer, running short of edification It's never alone; in bed with misery the smallest things distress the grandest of thoughts wanting reprieve, searching escape as if you could die and stain pride? No Cowardice is lower than this not worse, just pathetic but please, ignore my terrible advocacy, everything is half off today I'm feeling generous.
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May 4, 2014
May 4, 2014 at 5:45 PM UTC
Disappointments for sale (inclusive of despair)
~ This halfway point, where we do meet Between your day and mine I send to you the grandest wish Of birthday happy times Full of love and laughter Lots of presents I send you the biggest wish On your big birthday event We won’t need cake and ice cream No fancy party faire Just your smile will do just fine On this a day we share So have a very happy day I'll be here singing and smiling Have a wonderful day And keep shining And shine I will as long as you Will shine along with me As we celebrate our days Our birthdays, happily Happy Birthday Sye 7/27 Happy Birthday Jack 7/16
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Jul 21, 2014
Jul 21, 2014 at 7:24 AM UTC
Happy Birthday to us ~ A Birthday Collaboration ~ Sye and Jack
A winters stare, Beautifully resonates in the air, A clear sky, a frozen pitch, I wonder if the beauty, will last more than a few minutes, The snapping of a twig, which was once part of the untouched view, A graceful swan as muted as I am in awe, Gliding by, Looking over by the hill, The mist breathing through the grass, as I pause once more, The grandest of oaks, silhouetted by the rising sun, Grips me to the core, Only in England… Say no more.
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Aug 29, 2015
Aug 29, 2015 at 5:34 PM UTC
Awe
Beautiful memories of dreams that came true of that precious first time I laid my eyes on you. That time was bad, but was a blessing in disguise me meeting you was the grandest prize. I am oh so happy you saved my soul now I have a future and many a goal, you're a guardian angel, a savior so sweet I hope all your dreams come true and you accomplish many a feat.
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Jun 12, 2012
Jun 12, 2012 at 3:58 AM UTC
Beautiful memories
Oh! pleasant exercise of hope and joy! For mighty were the auxiliars which then stood Upon our side, we who were strong in love! Bliss was it in that dawn to be alive, But to be young was very heaven!—Oh! times, In which the meagre, stale, forbidding ways Of custom, law, and statute, took at once The attraction of a country in romance! When Reason seemed the most to assert her rights, When most intent on making of herself A prime Enchantress—to assist the work Which then was going forward in her name! Not favoured spots alone, but the whole earth, The beauty wore of promise, that which sets (As at some moment might not be unfelt Among the bowers of paradise itself ) The budding rose above the rose full blown. What temper at the prospect did not wake To happiness unthought of? The inert Were roused, and lively natures rapt away! They who had fed their childhood upon dreams, The playfellows of fancy, who had made All powers of swiftness, subtilty, and strength Their ministers,—who in lordly wise had stirred Among the grandest objects of the sense, And dealt with whatsoever they found there As if they had within some lurking right To wield it;—they, too, who, of gentle mood, Had watched all gentle motions, and to these Had fitted their own thoughts, schemers more wild, And in the region of their peaceful selves;— Now was it that both found, the meek and lofty Did both find, helpers to their heart’s desire, And stuff at hand, plastic as they could wish; Wcre called upon to exercise their skill, Not in Utopia, subterranean fields, Or some secreted island, Heaven knows where! But in the very world, which is the world Of all of us,—the place where in the end We find our happiness, or not at all!
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2.9k
The French Revolution As It Appeared To Enthusiasts At Its Commencement
Oh! pleasant exercise of hope and joy! For mighty were the auxiliars which then stood Upon our side, we who were strong in love! Bliss was it in that dawn to be alive, But to be young was very heaven!—Oh! times, In which the meagre, stale, forbidding ways Of custom, law, and statute, took at once The attraction of a country in romance! When Reason seemed the most to assert her rights, When most intent on making of herself A prime Enchantress—to assist the work Which then was going forward in her name! Not favoured spots alone, but the whole earth, The beauty wore of promise, that which sets (As at some moment might not be unfelt Among the bowers of paradise itself ) The budding rose above the rose full blown. What temper at the prospect did not wake To happiness unthought of? The inert Were roused, and lively natures rapt away! They who had fed their childhood upon dreams, The playfellows of fancy, who had made All powers of swiftness, subtilty, and strength Their ministers,—who in lordly wise had stirred Among the grandest objects of the sense, And dealt with whatsoever they found there As if they had within some lurking right To wield it;—they, too, who, of gentle mood, Had watched all gentle motions, and to these Had fitted their own thoughts, schemers more wild, And in the region of their peaceful selves;— Now was it that both found, the meek and lofty Did both find, helpers to their heart’s desire, And stuff at hand, plastic as they could wish; Wcre called upon to exercise their skill, Not in Utopia, subterranean fields, Or some secreted island, Heaven knows where! But in the very world, which is the world Of all of us,—the place where in the end We find our happiness, or not at all!
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40
Mother, Father I am six foot one and I can see over the trees I can **** mountains and bury my bones in the soil I am six foot one and I am just tall enough to see the truth I can look over others but I can't look over myself My shoulders bend like a bow, waiting to break And I can feel it all. I can feel it all. And to you, May your temporary smile be a golden forever And your heart existent with or without hope Let your brain open doors your hands cannot touch And your chest not collapse when the smoke is too much To live and to love with you is the grandest adventure And to cut myself on your edges, bleeds into itself And to live in your heart, is the biggest place I've ever found And to kiss you until my hands break and there is no sound And to all of us, We're a dark piece of trash Ribs are a cage and holographic souls sing Disenchanted by the human experience We're pretentious and objectify everything And to all of us, We're all light, we're all eyes wondering wide And we all shine bright, some of us cannot hide May your hands slant, slowly slinging towards the bells that are slowly ringing and may you strike a chord in all of us. May your existence be a temporary forever.
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Aug 14, 2014
Aug 14, 2014 at 11:42 AM UTC
Golden
The Coronation. Weightless stars drop silently like petals From a distant place way up far beyond the night sky. Winter flowers blossom and fly away Landing like moths on the night, turning to petals, then rain. To shower you in love over and over again on this majestic day. Distant orchestras come together in a cyclonic, deafening crescendo Commanded by maestros flailing wands from the peaks of the highest mountains. Roll great drums! Make music for my Queen violins and cellos! Ring through valleys and across deserts Sweep up all the world’s musicians along the way! Fireworks ignite the darkness with day. Rainbows burst, more stars, come petals Saturate you in light. And shower you with my love on this, The day of your Coronation. Great Gods have come to celebrate Smiling down they send their angels To drench your glowing torso in rose petals And kiss you gently as they settle, While my tied hands yearn to give you a fond caress. Every creature in the universe has attended the grandest ceremony in time. Each gleefully holding a single rose petal To weave into your hair. My bound arms reach across continents carried like breath on the wind To deliver you my heart. Close your fist and make a wish What would your soul like to find inside? True loves lay sleeping snuggled together on the bed of the universe. Calm is the Queen With her single red rose. …………………………………………………… Sun rises and all the petals have transformed into snow. Still soft, still comforting. But with an eerie emptiness of a dream that has yet to be told. Joy is frozen in our hearts For Love eternal was denied the throne this time. Remember my sweet darling You are now my Queen of Roses. And in a palace somewhere, As far away as near I am your King. (Gerry Aldridge)
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May 19, 2016
May 19, 2016 at 4:55 PM UTC
The Coronation.
The Coronation. Weightless stars drop silently like petals From a distant place way up far beyond the night sky. Winter flowers blossom and fly away Landing like moths on the night, turning to petals, then rain. To shower you in love over and over again on this majestic day. Distant orchestras come together in a cyclonic, deafening crescendo Commanded by maestros flailing wands from the peaks of the highest mountains. Roll great drums! Make music for my Queen violins and cellos! Ring through valleys and across deserts Sweep up all the world’s musicians along the way! Fireworks ignite the darkness with day. Rainbows burst, more stars, come petals Saturate you in light. And shower you with my love on this, The day of your Coronation. Great Gods have come to celebrate Smiling down they send their angels To drench your glowing torso in rose petals And kiss you gently as they settle, While my tied hands yearn to give you a fond caress. Every creature in the universe has attended the grandest ceremony in time. Each gleefully holding a single rose petal To weave into your hair. My bound arms reach across continents carried like breath on the wind To deliver you my heart. Close your fist and make a wish What would your soul like to find inside? True loves lay sleeping snuggled together on the bed of the universe. Calm is the Queen With her single red rose. …………………………………………………… Sun rises and all the petals have transformed into snow. Still soft, still comforting. But with an eerie emptiness of a dream that has yet to be told. Joy is frozen in our hearts For Love eternal was denied the throne this time. Remember my sweet darling You are now my Queen of Roses. And in a palace somewhere, As far away as near I am your King. (Gerry Aldridge)
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43
Sentimental emotions needs to be shared Down at your little throne I glared I danced I frowned I smiled Oh silly jester of the court.. You only see a face of a fool! oh deary, please allow me to retort. I make the masses smile all the time my dear Why can't you see this jester's love appear? I juggle knives and flames for your amusement. Oh truly I do shrug in fear and in torment. /Hush little darling don't you frown This little jester will be your clown All he wants to do is to see you smile All he wants to do is laugh for awhile This psychopathic love that I have for you Would only be the beginning of our story for two. The jester smiles and the crowd goes nuts Alas the princess is with me but the pain still cuts/ Let the jester make you the grandest ball of them all Let your lover make you twirl round and round in this ball Let the crowd know this love that I held in the end A jester to a lover what a sweet sweet blend HaHaHaHaHaHa says the jester gone mad How could this fairy tale got so wrong and bad The jester hacks and slashes oh he is excited For my sweet deary all things should be dead. I thank the world for what it gave my heart Sadly a jester can only do much it rips him apart He can only make people smile and more is too much. Bodies everywhere my love pulseless, inside the jester he only laughed a bunch.
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Oct 11, 2017
Oct 11, 2017 at 3:53 PM UTC
Sweet Jester, Never Lover
Trickery, Deception Loving me, was his grandest illusion of all!
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Nov 2, 2013
Nov 2, 2013 at 3:32 PM UTC
The Magician
I have done many exceptional things in my life. I have traveled to far-away worlds with effervescent seas. I have fought alongside rebels and mutineers: against oppressive dukes and deities. I, so vividly, remember the times I danced on the tops of skyscrapers. Thereafter howling at the moon with my fellow gypsies. But more than that, I remember the gentle laughter of friends. I remember the soft hands of those I love on mine, while the sunsetted on an entirely unforgettable day. I find my grandest adventures after the sun has dipped down out of sight, and the moon has risen to illuminate my so out of focus world. I find them as I’m hunched over in my bed. I find them as my fingers are trembling over the keys of a laptop; the glow of the screen burning in my eyes. As I rip post-it notes full of ideas off my walls and mesh them together, I become some sort of enchanter; thus beginning yet another journey. Although I may have not truly gone on such adventures, the feeling would remain the same if I had. Because, as I’ve come to realize, the truest of grand adventures starts with simply a single blank page and the desire to tell an earth-shattering story.
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Apr 2, 2016
Apr 2, 2016 at 10:25 PM UTC
Grand Adventures
Prayer is said to be powerful. Well this soul begs the Grandest Force in this universe to place love in this being's life. A flower of one's own that radiates with one's soul and reciprocates the actions to nurture it beyond disbelief. This spirit is not sully wondering into such ways is only dangerous. If this heart has already been dismantled by the only flower who received the transfusion of one's love the being cannot take that back. Reconciliation regarding the breathtaking and impossible cannot be taken back. Chunk after chunk...that part of the mechanism is falling to disrepair.
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Oct 3, 2011
Oct 3, 2011 at 7:25 PM UTC
Contemplating Night II: Part III
Love, I see the infinite universe in all that you are: trillions of planets that circle the billions of stars among icy, white comets, and dark, grey moons; Nebulae, supernovae and all their gorgeous hues; the greens, the pinks, the violet, orange, and blue, in the multitude of galaxies through outer space strewn. Your immense gravity draws me to you. Darling, some might say God's greatest work of art is this awesome place, but it's you and your heart. With divine purpose, He exploded countless stars, eons ago, which formed the earth where we are, then molded you one day, His most magnificent sculpture, from its willing clay. His most impressive painting: the landscapes of your body and soft colors brushed upon. His most majestic song: your enchanting voice and laugh for which my damaged ears long. You're the most intricate symphony; the grandest, most striking tune played upon the infinitesimal strings He used to create you. Love, just like the infinite universe, no words can adequately describe your vast beauty, it can only be understood in the soul and not the mind.
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Jan 11, 2014
Jan 11, 2014 at 1:08 PM UTC
Incarnate