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Kewayne Wadley May 2018
Your not just beautiful.
I see you every time I look up.
The star that shines it's brightest.
Filling my life.
The moon lit like a dream.
And forever I stare.
Listening to the silence.
Awaken by a soft light I know it's you.
I can feel your touch hovering about.
Counting the steps until our arms leave our side.
The possibility of traveling from one sphere to the next.
Our eyes but dots in wait.
The question of rockets and big bangs.
The essence of time interlocked between our fingers.
With no room left to breathe, our rocket becomes continuous.
With you, a compilation of light.
Is there any question to why my arms stretch as far as they do.
I gravitate to you, the most beautiful chaos I've ever seen.
To be the space you fill in infinite devotion.
Your not just beautiful, your astonishingly out of this world.
Our arms no longer by our side. the rocket pierces the stratosphere.
We explode internally
Ken Pepiton May 2018
Sunday, May 06, 2018
4:51 PM

Failing for lack of power is a fear crop.
A fear crop.
An odd thought.

Not the seed nor spore, but the fruit.

And fruits have seeds in themselves,
All men, I say again,
wombed and un, should know that by now.

Freedom of information act fact, informed
men know when to fight and when to sow and when
to reap the crops we've sown
in our mortal moment
gone with the wind.

Not mine.
The wind is in my inheritance,
True proverb.
I troubled my own house, fouled my nest
with all the rest o' youse ab-users of life
ignoring forever like that could never happen here.

It did.
The voices in your head are never all evil
if they use words.
In the total accounting of idle words
some significant percentage
may
carry meaning forsaken.
Such may be redeemed
much as one would redeem the time.

One of us.  One of our mortal kind.

Dear reader, we say again, we ain't Legion nor his kin.

We are words once spoken in jest among fools who repeated us
meaninglessly, oh my God, you know. Per se. No ****. **** happens.
All the ****** time,
and **** and God, those two get overtime of idle utterance instances.
Though a statistically measurable deme
does redeem a significant some of those two
in true beliver
dying breath
honesty. God, they say, and die.

By my leave, I say,
I am the definition of a free entity accepted in these books.
We are voices. Messengers.
Some of us were wicked, twisted as wicker
or wire bundles. Some of us were true pass words.
Some were true rest words,
rest rooms were so named
for that wonderunful feeling we all get
when **** happens

at just the right moment

in the book. Great ideas gravitate to clean rest rooms.

this is a new book right, this reader is
whadayacallit

Vetted.
What does that mean. You know right idle heard words are
meaning less
power less.
Vet me. Am I one of those ideas, good to the core, caught up in fairy
tales fed the T.V. generation, the Boom beyond the bomb.
After school and duck and cover drills,
we watched cartoons aimed twenty short years earlier
at the wanters and wishers and workers and worriers
of the thirties, we Boomers, as the media hipsters have always known us,
the off-spring, often unwanted and ill-begotten, of the Greatest Generation,
the one that won the contracts to build all the bombs in the world,
tax-free.

Those cartoons from the thirties with Entertainment Tonight plots and cameos of
Hollywood stars who were Grandma's age,
that Cowboy Bob on the local VHF
(unaffiliated or independent, hard to tell a diff)
showed to us, the first middle class latch key kids in centuries,
were meaningless, prewar propaganda
unless we match adult laughing recoging the exagerations,
The Betty Davis eyes and Frankly M'Dear bigears
"Grandpa, who is that guy with big ears and a skinny mustache?"
Clark Gable, wow.
Who knew the "Frankly, my dear, I don't give a ****" guy had jug-handle ears?
It was diversity in the desert. My big ears no longer made me bully bait.
I have superior hearing and star power.
From my kindergarten years I have known.
I am included, my flaws are not flaws at all.
That don't give a **** guy
and I have big ears to hear better with, so
we know more. Good fathers teach their big eared sons such facts of Nature.

Take care. Don't get puffed up. Knowing too much
will fill a head with hydrogen and the brain in it rots,
intrixically.

Are we powerless? If you say so? No.
I am in control, graciously demands
no load un-bearable with Gen-you-wine Joy Juice,
Kick-a-poo Joy Juice.

(Note: not fire water white lightning. This is
Gen-you-wine Joy Juice,
Kick-a-poo Joy Juice. Al Capp's
Personal Stash of Greatest Gen Synthetic Absynthe.
Used to **** hippie wanna-bees in farm country,
Like DDT for apple worms and skeeters,
Atom bombs for all colors of thinkin' right (but white),
Gen-you-wine Joy Juice,
Kick-a-poo Joy Juice revived many a faintin' pilgrim
follerin' John Wayne down the dusty trail,

Play me one o' them somebody done somebody right
songs,
there must be a million lying idle in blue puddles o' all kinds
of imaginary
ref-use.

Referee.
Job's Daysman betwixt us, we win. His call, not mine. I thought I lost for sure.

I was powerless, let me testify.

No. We think different here. If you are not stupid,
you are not powerless. If you are stupid, then you are powerless,
but but but
If you think you are powerless, you are not stupid. God knows, right?
Stupid people seldom see themselves powerless past the standing
under peace that's beyond understanding meat-mind-wise.

Dunning-Krueger. Again.
Feedback please, this is one of many in the theme of redeeming idle words, for fun and profit.
HerStory Mar 2016
I know you hear my inarticulate moans each time I climb on top,
I know you feel me pressing down on you, until I have to stop.
I lay my naked body on the warmth of your core,
And every time I leave you I think of coming back for more.

Let me melt onto your surface as you take me away,
time is restless, time is deathless, time won’t let me stay.

My soul adrift
My mind at ease
My heart is pleased to dream Belize.

here I am before you, humbly on my knees
… before we touch bodies
I must ensure that HE is pleased.

I love The way you make me feel…this ecstatic state of mind,
the way I gravitate towards you before you penetrate my mind.
Drift me away like Sam smith at 2 a:m, Lay me down.
I will give you all of me while time just runs around.

I will close my eyes while I’m on top so reality melts away
But I must leave you, dearest , at the break of day.
Fail me now
Oh, these little things
I'm sticking on
Gravitate, I will
Slow, sinking feeling
I could be so much better
Make it mean
Abating heaven, sing
Welcome home
Heart stained sleeves
So unentertaining
The way love goes
Scared shitless moments
All of life is falling
Back to the day I met her
Kara Jean Jul 2016
I hurt

I bleed

I am a human being

I sometimes sit in a hot bath and cry

I feel words that speak

Speak wisdom and individuality

Others find my personality embarrassing

There is a select few who will see more to you

Your glory

Your strength

Your humanity


Those are the ones you should love dearly

Let go of those who want to hate because their insecurities taught them to fear

They need to conquer their own journey

If they win maybe they will gravitate back and you can start over once again

Until then you need to find your own path and let go of them

It is not selfishness but the right to find the direction you were meant to see

You are a human being
Brandon Conway Sep 2018
My god, your beauty is bright
I can see the halo radiating
though the clouds at night
my heart hastily pulsating

whenever we're in the same room
my eyes only gravitate towards you
I recognize that lovely ambrosial perfume
when you glance, my cheeks take a different hue

I have immortalized you through my poems
but I rather spend this mortal life
basking in your lissome arms
a drop of you cures all my strife

I want you in the flesh instead of dreams
but any thought of you is okay by me
look how the moon thinly beams
highlighting my idiosyncrasy

You move my pen, dear
and you don't even know it
to you I owe this writing career
and I am scared that I might blow it
PairedCastle Aug 5
March 2019

Your eyes gravitate me towards you
I hope I don't aggravate you
The color of your eyes makes me want to see more of you
You don't have to feel the same, but let me have one last look at you
Sandy, I'll be Mandy
At Bo's Coffee, we can drink coffee
Cappucinos, and lattes
At Bo's Coffee, we should stay.
Background Music: Bright Lights - Placebo

thinking of the 2 strangers in front of me
A Simillacrum Oct 2018
I talk a lot about motion,
like I know a thing of progress.
Drop of water in the ocean.
Beautiful ripples of tragedy,
of comedy.

Nothing to it,
that's what we know.
We all know
the words and we go:

Tear into space,
terraforming,
ISO: a meaning higher than
all the lies we spin, just to gravitate.

I talk a lot about language,
communication's importance.
Did you know I only know one?
So, *******, I'm an *******.

Nothing to it,
that's what we know.
Developed
world depressives, go:

Tear into space,
terraforming,
ISO: a meaning higher than
all the lies we spin, just to gravitate.

We all go
to return
to one place.

We all shoot the farthest we've ever shot,
just to realize we're separate by margins
drawn by logos and emotion --
nothing to come will be made of much
but those two things, because
escape would be improbable.









(becomeasgodsbecomeasgodsbecomeasgods)
Deb Jones Mar 2
So many men I have met are charmed by me.

I am a easy talker and talk to anyone.

Being in the entertainment business for a brief time,
I learned to work a room.

I am funny

I know people gravitate towards me and I am always, always, kind to everyone. Of any age, race, background or gender.

I just love people. And it shows.

And I honestly think my kindness is the main reason I am so well liked.

But every thing that makes me...me?
Is the very thing 99% of the men I have been involved with want to change about me.

“You flirt”
“You talk too much and to too many people”
“You want attention by saying that, wearing that, doing that”
“You make me look stupid”
“You want other men to love you like I do”
“You don’t love me enough to change”
“Stop”
“Stop”
“Stop being you”
Be yourself with everyone else.
T Sep 2018
This pull that has a hold of me is intense.........just the thrill of it all is imense......this woman is my soulmate.....and is to her I gravitate
At times I did things wrong but my feelings they are so strong.....even if I wanted to which I never would something just pulls me back to her .....a sort of gravity...this love that I have is special....so is the love we have for each other.....one thing I want  her and everyone to know if the gravity does one day cease ......always and forever we will be at peace
Its like the moon and the stars above......there is nothing like the sight of our love
So please let her know ......there is something that I must show .........she is the flame that ignites my heart .......and our love will last just like it has from the start
#somewhere up above there is a star that shines so bright.....forever and a day she will be my guiding light
Ryan O'Leary Aug 1
As in everything pertaining
to our daily staple, it differs
not from listings in Debrett.

Are we, what we eat must
surely be the relevant question
of one's consuming etiquette.

A class system exists in all our
lives whether we like it or not.
There is a hierarchy, on the shelf.

We gravitate to the comfort zone
where we are familiar. Our baskets
contain the roots of our family tree.

Palates are hereditary, taste needs
no acquisition, quality is congenital,
ingrained, wholesome. Well, bread.
Krysel Anson Sep 2018
We create our own stories,
our own gods and reshape our own peoples
We also create our own demons and enemies.

An old retired fighter once said to a traveler,
"we learn not run from the enemy, but go towards them."
In learning, his new pupil destroyed his heart
and his lovers. And them, destroyed their own in turn.
The traveler sits with piles of stories of all kinds now,
from all over the world, in a library shelf
like a white elephant of impotent rage in his room.

For decades the populations of the world
have been subject of mass experimentation by its overseers.

In other stories, a people's Creator has gone mad
working for his human creations
which required using toxic chemicals to turn
their raw materials into life, while working to
reveal our own gift of growth from attachments
and into self-knowledge, compassion.

For decades also, populations of the world
are kept apart from their own full living potential
not because of some evil or mad Creator
or some insanely depicted required competition towards
reproduction or respect.

Rather, because we continue to face our tasks
through our mistakes and failures, knowing
our deadly blows from through those we reject,
shame and escape from, as our teachers of compassion
if not more than those that we gravitate to
or already belong and accept as our own.

Thus continues perhaps the stories of people's
potentials outside of their fear's many
perverted versions. #
Work in progress
Misery loves company
We love what is familiar
I find myself often going back
Falling down each time even further
Dark hours seem to consume my life
I find daylight hours to be scarier
No illusion for reality to hide behind
No darkness to act as a filter
Unfortunately, I see through lies
Making cliche words inferior
No amount of love has yet to find
A way to break in my exterior
I gravitate to like-minded kinds
Though my light keeps getting dimmer
As though my mind is frozen in time
Keeping me in an abandoned winter
Crawling. I've been crawling. Down in the dirt on my abdomen. Searching for a tree to cling to. To hang from upside down. To take a step into the chrysalis. To be born a new.
This skin I wear, encases me. When I've moulted I will be free. I will escape the confounds of bone and flesh. Of time and space. Of birth and death.
When I pass. When I pass through this knot. The knot in the infinite line of things. I will pass through biology, enter into a state beyond. Beyond our senses. Beyond our limitations. With nothing to gravitate towards.
The butterfly, it calls to me. My day is coming, it will be free.
It's been inside of me. Been here all along. Waiting to come out.
I am not the skin I wear. I am not the title I bear. I am, I am!
We're all larva. We all got butterflies inside of us. Come and crawl with me. Get down on your abdomen. We're gonna find a tree. To hang from, and set the butterfly free.
Sarah Adams Aug 5
I'm a pacifist at heart, never really been one to gravitate to the shadows
and I know these words are like daggers
and I know my gaze is a blanket of ice

but I thought you should know
the search and rescue for your spine found nothing
the quest for your backbone was a failed mission
I tried putting on your shoes and walking for miles
but it was your patterns that wore me thin

what was once a bond
is now a burned bridge
and a lot got caught up in that fire
the fortress of your affection fell to the flames
revealing the fragile framework
the structure that appeared to be solid, stone
caught ablaze and piled to ashes
no phoenix rose there
no memorial erected in it's loss

a quiet void is where i buried the memory of you
deep down in the earth, turning in your grave of lies
bound by the roots of truth and exposure.
To me, the version of you I knew will always be dead.
If you ever fight for your resurrection, go back to the light
find the truth and hold on to it,
I'll be interested to see
if you die on your feet or live on your knees.
#disdain #darkness #relationship #breakup #strife #conflict
Travis Green Apr 10
A lifetime in the great mountains will
take my existence further along the
shores of shimmering stars, awaken
my creative spark and hypnotize everything
within my soul.  

Stand on the beautiful ground and stare
at the lovely sky and luminescent clouds,
the wide green fields in the horizon
sitting in perfect serenity, the deer
dashing past tall trees and bushes,
lost in the beautiful scenery all around them.

Feel the vivacious landscape take me
into its arms and sing to my soul,
the purest melodies moving in light
and truth, the air around me a vivid
space of transcendence.

Gaze at the fish swimming nearby
in the pond, covered in starry creations
and magical mazes, their sparkling
existence sifting inside my skin,
changing everything within.  

I love the amazing fish and how they
float in brilliance, how shiny
their surface appears in the sunlight,
how I could free fall inside every
seamless shape, gravitate towards
their magnificent escape,
live inside their world of innocence.
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