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"gravitated" poems
Together they were the perfect team. She was tired of perfection long before she met him. Constantly having to put up a successful front was exhausting, but her barrier of bravado was faltering. It's hard to find imperfections in an idyllic world. He didn't want to live in the life of his reputation anymore. The tornado that his life had become was beginning to ruin him and he wanted nothing more to find some quiet. It's hard to find solace in the storm. No longer did she want to create masterpieces; she wanted to wreak havoc. She had a taste of the life she wanted, but once you take the first few steps on the path of self-destruction, you cannot turn back. The whisper in the wind becomes seductive. Like a drug, she needed it. She made a U-turn, a complete diversion from the road that had been paved for her. She felt a rush from the change of direction, and fell in love with it. He was her change of direction. It's hard to find fault in someone that provides the mess you've been searching for. He wanted nothing more than some peace in his whirlwind of a life; maybe that's why he gravitated towards her. She gave him the comfort that he had desired for years. She made him feel as if the rollercoaster, designed as a downwards spiral, that he has been riding since birth was starting to calm down. She became the sense of calm in his brutal life. It's impossible to reject something you have been seeking for years. Together they were unstoppable. She lost herself in his chaos and she took it on herself. She was an angel who lost her way, blinded by desire for imperfection and love for a boy that finally made her feel again. He was a hurricane that found the solace in her that he has wanted for what felt like an eternity. He revelled in the peace she brought to his life and he loved her more than he could articulate. She found her demon; she became a fallen angel, the devil reincarnate that took the chaos out of his life and put it into hers. He found his angel; he became a quiet rainfall that gave his tornado to the girl that craved the destruction it created. Together they were the perfect team.
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Feb 27, 2018
Feb 27, 2018 at 3:42 PM UTC
"She was an angel craving chaos, he was a demon seeking peace"
Together they were the perfect team. She was tired of perfection long before she met him. Constantly having to put up a successful front was exhausting, but her barrier of bravado was faltering. It's hard to find imperfections in an idyllic world. He didn't want to live in the life of his reputation anymore. The tornado that his life had become was beginning to ruin him and he wanted nothing more to find some quiet. It's hard to find solace in the storm. No longer did she want to create masterpieces; she wanted to wreak havoc. She had a taste of the life she wanted, but once you take the first few steps on the path of self-destruction, you cannot turn back. The whisper in the wind becomes seductive. Like a drug, she needed it. She made a U-turn, a complete diversion from the road that had been paved for her. She felt a rush from the change of direction, and fell in love with it. He was her change of direction. It's hard to find fault in someone that provides the mess you've been searching for. He wanted nothing more than some peace in his whirlwind of a life; maybe that's why he gravitated towards her. She gave him the comfort that he had desired for years. She made him feel as if the rollercoaster, designed as a downwards spiral, that he has been riding since birth was starting to calm down. She became the sense of calm in his brutal life. It's impossible to reject something you have been seeking for years. Together they were unstoppable. She lost herself in his chaos and she took it on herself. She was an angel who lost her way, blinded by desire for imperfection and love for a boy that finally made her feel again. He was a hurricane that found the solace in her that he has wanted for what felt like an eternity. He revelled in the peace she brought to his life and he loved her more than he could articulate. She found her demon; she became a fallen angel, the devil reincarnate that took the chaos out of his life and put it into hers. He found his angel; he became a quiet rainfall that gave his tornado to the girl that craved the destruction it created. Together they were the perfect team.
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13
On Monday we met, our eyes fixated on one another, eager to know more On Tuesday we talked, twiddling our thumbs, fidgeting in our seats, pondering on the right things to say On Wednesday we hugged, your arms held me close, heartbeats in sync, I felt myself floating On Thursday we kissed, our lips gravitated towards each other, like the moon and the sea, the connection was natural On Friday we confessed, three little words wrapped around our ears, forever tattooed in our minds On Saturday you disappeared, no note, no call, no text not a trace of you left that I could still hold on to On Sunday I cried, my heart still beats, but never the same way, would you ever give me a reason if I ever asked "Why?"
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Aug 7, 2018
Aug 7, 2018 at 3:28 PM UTC
Days of the Week
On the nights I accidentally sleep through the evening and wake when the sun’s long gone, I can’t help but think about how it feels like falling for you. I say this because it always shocks me, leaves me trying to figure out what’s going on. It gives me a loss of gravity, as though I’ve lost contact with the world for a while. With my being used to being alone, hearing your voice through my speakers brings a smile to my face. I can’t place the exact feelings. I have trouble wording it. Shy was never a word to describe me. But you’ve somehow shut me up, your grin alone catches my full attention. Whenever I talk to you, I feel grounded. I feel like gravity returns. That’s just it, I’m gravitated to you. Somehow, it’s almost like you’re the Earth itself. Perhaps I’m your stars, hoping you’ll make a wish on me. Take a chance on me. Perhaps, I’m even your moon. Maybe you look up at me when I’m hardly even here, a sliver. I do that a lot. I hate that I can’t be saved from rising and falling every night, because I worry you get tired of the cycle. Me and you together feels like a storm rolling in. The calm is long gone, the winds coming from the east coast, rolling through Wisconsin like a force only you could bring. By myself, I’d be intimidated. But knowing it’s you bearing the force brings no surprise. If only you knew your worth. I understand your fears, seeing as if I am the moon, and you are the Earth, I will inevitably leave your side for at least a while. But know I will never leave you. I revolve around you, and although I am not your sun, know that even when I’m gone, I am yours. Know that no matter what happens, I tried
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Sep 11, 2015
Sep 11, 2015 at 2:07 AM UTC
Earth - Moon
On the nights I accidentally sleep through the evening and wake when the sun’s long gone, I can’t help but think about how it feels like falling for you. I say this because it always shocks me, leaves me trying to figure out what’s going on. It gives me a loss of gravity, as though I’ve lost contact with the world for a while. With my being used to being alone, hearing your voice through my speakers brings a smile to my face. I can’t place the exact feelings. I have trouble wording it. Shy was never a word to describe me. But you’ve somehow shut me up, your grin alone catches my full attention. Whenever I talk to you, I feel grounded. I feel like gravity returns. That’s just it, I’m gravitated to you. Somehow, it’s almost like you’re the Earth itself. Perhaps I’m your stars, hoping you’ll make a wish on me. Take a chance on me. Perhaps, I’m even your moon. Maybe you look up at me when I’m hardly even here, a sliver. I do that a lot. I hate that I can’t be saved from rising and falling every night, because I worry you get tired of the cycle. Me and you together feels like a storm rolling in. The calm is long gone, the winds coming from the east coast, rolling through Wisconsin like a force only you could bring. By myself, I’d be intimidated. But knowing it’s you bearing the force brings no surprise. If only you knew your worth. I understand your fears, seeing as if I am the moon, and you are the Earth, I will inevitably leave your side for at least a while. But know I will never leave you. I revolve around you, and although I am not your sun, know that even when I’m gone, I am yours. Know that no matter what happens, I tried
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40
Her red shoe heels made clicking sounds aloud, around the hall attracting attention; his shoes, alluring, plush, black magic silence power worn on feet cried for recognition. loudness gravitated towards silence black silence  angled wild red he measured her foot to hip, she focused on his  intense face the silence with in the precinct approved their illegitimate cravings. Avarice for attention came together held hands, kicked up their heels, to **** competition in foot fetish.
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Oct 18, 2011
Oct 18, 2011 at 2:58 PM UTC
FOOT FETISH
In days dead and burried in time, In a very far away enchanted clime, In the mighty kingdom of Nineva Where there fairly shone forever, There once was a strange lonely wood That ever in fairest robes of green stood By the edge of a fair shoreline of pearl, Whose mystery none may tell nor unfurl. For akin to the most effulgent yonder star That forevermore scintillates from afar In a splendiferous novelty golden cluster, So thrice scintillated the gem's luster. And 'tis for this that as we all truly know, All mortals, I say, all mortals  of long ago Gravitated from corners of distant lands On the quest for riches by those strands. Once, sweltering was the noontide When upon a violent lonely rolling tide A bunch of desperate pirates were seen Nearing that wood of emerald sheen. In a while, they'd gathered all they could, Leaving not a single gem in the wood. Alas! A wind murmured upon the skies In faint whispers: "Woods have eyes" So muttered all birds - all birds of the air, All creatures in caverns desolate yet fair, All leaves upon strange shadowy trees, And all - all creatures of wild lonely seas. But, despite the looming dark omen, Swifter than plummeting drops of rain, So hastily dashed every single pirate Blindingly minding not about their fate. They raised their silvery sails to take sail But hark! All this - all this was to no avail; For upon the skies no wind was seen To render them across so wide a sea. In a jiffy, louder than birds of the skies All gems whispered, "Woods have eyes." From that moment on, all lost their sight, Doomed never to behold the sun's light. And now, upon those murky restless seas They dost weep but no plea can please, For they were doomed to rove evermore In search of their long forgotten shore. ©Kikodinho Edward Alexandros, Kampala, Uganda. 29th.July.2018.
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Jul 29, 2018
Jul 29, 2018 at 4:03 AM UTC
WOODS HAVE EYES
In days dead and burried in time, In a very far away enchanted clime, In the mighty kingdom of Nineva Where there fairly shone forever, There once was a strange lonely wood That ever in fairest robes of green stood By the edge of a fair shoreline of pearl, Whose mystery none may tell nor unfurl. For akin to the most effulgent yonder star That forevermore scintillates from afar In a splendiferous novelty golden cluster, So thrice scintillated the gem's luster. And 'tis for this that as we all truly know, All mortals, I say, all mortals  of long ago Gravitated from corners of distant lands On the quest for riches by those strands. Once, sweltering was the noontide When upon a violent lonely rolling tide A bunch of desperate pirates were seen Nearing that wood of emerald sheen. In a while, they'd gathered all they could, Leaving not a single gem in the wood. Alas! A wind murmured upon the skies In faint whispers: "Woods have eyes" So muttered all birds - all birds of the air, All creatures in caverns desolate yet fair, All leaves upon strange shadowy trees, And all - all creatures of wild lonely seas. But, despite the looming dark omen, Swifter than plummeting drops of rain, So hastily dashed every single pirate Blindingly minding not about their fate. They raised their silvery sails to take sail But hark! All this - all this was to no avail; For upon the skies no wind was seen To render them across so wide a sea. In a jiffy, louder than birds of the skies All gems whispered, "Woods have eyes." From that moment on, all lost their sight, Doomed never to behold the sun's light. And now, upon those murky restless seas They dost weep but no plea can please, For they were doomed to rove evermore In search of their long forgotten shore. ©Kikodinho Edward Alexandros, Kampala, Uganda. 29th.July.2018.
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45
Some things are certain. Tonight the moon will rise only to be replaced by the warmth of the sun again in the morning. You're never as certain as the universe. And even that could cease to exist at any given moment. I keep searching for you in cracks in the pavement, in graffiti ridden alleyways and in my most terrifying moments, when I cross the street looking behind me instead of in front. I keep thinking that you're going to be somewhere asking me to stay or saying you love me or some other sentimental ******** Truth is I'm a traveler. I don't stay in one place too long. I don't make ties that can't be easily broken with the razor blade that has become my only friend. You don't understand and how could you? You've been stuck in this one horse town your whole life and you only gravitated towards me because I had tattoos and silver metals sticking through my skin that spelt out rebellion. You didn't see me as a flower, but a dandelion. You wished on me, for a new life, a new love and a new thing to make you feel alive. But all ghosts can do is make you think of death. I'm a sad ghost of a girl I once was or maybe who I'm going to be. And sooner or later I will find you in a crack in the pavement or over my shoulder. And you won't ask me to stay, because you'll know better. You'll tell me to look forward.
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Aug 6, 2013
Aug 6, 2013 at 2:27 AM UTC
a crack in the pavement
ROBBED BY TIME Once upon a time, A friend in need at all times, Time was such my best friend And so we hopped till the end. To my castle he'd come, For he was always welcome Any time he ever wanted to, Something my queen loved too. We'd ramble woodland paths together As he reeled off one story after another, All day long having a good time Till when castle bells could chime. Time was not of this world, But a great war lord Of a very far away land, King unto the realm of fairy land. He who had a novelty crown Bestowed upon him by a fairy clown, A crown not of gold but of palest silver, A precious gem from the fairyland silva. With lurve in the air one morning, My friendship with Time died aborning When he chose to do something frivolous Just when the Sun's rays were so glorious. Time emblazed my heart, Something that didst hurt When he smiled unto my wife, Such a great shock unto my life. He gravitated towards her after a deep sigh, Like a whirlwind, my mind whirled high. He thus gallantly asked her for a dance, And was granted a golden chance. Keenly I watched this flint-hearted boy, Thought him skint but feared not nor coy. With alacrity and in broad day light Together they cwtched in delight. He whom I always enjoyed with the wine, There enjoying with a queen of mine Whilst committing mischief; This friend of mine such a thief. Time whispered thus into my Queen's ear, Whispers I could hardly hear: Alas! He promised her the moon For they'd eloped by noon, To places strange I might never have a clue, To where mortals have never dared walk to, All the way to the realm of fairy land, Such, such a very far away land. ©Kikodinho Edward Alexandros 10th Aug 2016.
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Aug 9, 2016
Aug 9, 2016 at 9:09 PM UTC
ROBBED BY TIME
ROBBED BY TIME Once upon a time, A friend in need at all times, Time was such my best friend And so we hopped till the end. To my castle he'd come, For he was always welcome Any time he ever wanted to, Something my queen loved too. We'd ramble woodland paths together As he reeled off one story after another, All day long having a good time Till when castle bells could chime. Time was not of this world, But a great war lord Of a very far away land, King unto the realm of fairy land. He who had a novelty crown Bestowed upon him by a fairy clown, A crown not of gold but of palest silver, A precious gem from the fairyland silva. With lurve in the air one morning, My friendship with Time died aborning When he chose to do something frivolous Just when the Sun's rays were so glorious. Time emblazed my heart, Something that didst hurt When he smiled unto my wife, Such a great shock unto my life. He gravitated towards her after a deep sigh, Like a whirlwind, my mind whirled high. He thus gallantly asked her for a dance, And was granted a golden chance. Keenly I watched this flint-hearted boy, Thought him skint but feared not nor coy. With alacrity and in broad day light Together they cwtched in delight. He whom I always enjoyed with the wine, There enjoying with a queen of mine Whilst committing mischief; This friend of mine such a thief. Time whispered thus into my Queen's ear, Whispers I could hardly hear: Alas! He promised her the moon For they'd eloped by noon, To places strange I might never have a clue, To where mortals have never dared walk to, All the way to the realm of fairy land, Such, such a very far away land. ©Kikodinho Edward Alexandros 10th Aug 2016.
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51
From the helter skelter In a helter skelter dash For solitude at the esker I strayed in a labyrinth Of dark soaring woods Here-upon, trees begun to move! An optical illusion it seemed to be, Though a moment my eyes did love; But in a mean time, out of kilter Was the avenue to the esker. Wandering midst soaring woods Serendipitously there I beheld An elegant creature, A creature with a velvety Pale unblemished skin, Lilly white as porcelain, Gaily yet opalescent as an opal, With curling glossy auburn hair, Mellifluously whispering a lullaby With verve in the wanton air Whilst flapping her wings To take wing. On feasting about her impeccable face, It thus dawned upon me: "She was not of this our world But an alien, an angel rom outer space." Swiftly, I gravitated towards her And unto her said I was lost, Lost like leaves beneath the frost Upon my way for solitude at the esker However the sheer cynosure She'd taken my fancy Hence moonstruck for sure. She gagged me, cwtched me, Enveloped me in her wings And merrily took wing Whilst I gallantly kissed, Kissed her nectar kisser. Past mullbery skies we soared, All the way unto her land of bliss Where upon we swam naked, Naked in halcyon waters, Waters of her land. Together, we made poetry Of love and life so blind, Cherishing moment after moment One could search forever to find, Whilst gallivanting from star to star, Only alone by ourselves on yonder To a very distant colourful clime, Yonder beyond restrictions of time.
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Jul 27, 2015
Jul 27, 2015 at 8:50 AM UTC
MOONSTRUCK (EPIC)
From the helter skelter In a helter skelter dash For solitude at the esker I strayed in a labyrinth Of dark soaring woods Here-upon, trees begun to move! An optical illusion it seemed to be, Though a moment my eyes did love; But in a mean time, out of kilter Was the avenue to the esker. Wandering midst soaring woods Serendipitously there I beheld An elegant creature, A creature with a velvety Pale unblemished skin, Lilly white as porcelain, Gaily yet opalescent as an opal, With curling glossy auburn hair, Mellifluously whispering a lullaby With verve in the wanton air Whilst flapping her wings To take wing. On feasting about her impeccable face, It thus dawned upon me: "She was not of this our world But an alien, an angel rom outer space." Swiftly, I gravitated towards her And unto her said I was lost, Lost like leaves beneath the frost Upon my way for solitude at the esker However the sheer cynosure She'd taken my fancy Hence moonstruck for sure. She gagged me, cwtched me, Enveloped me in her wings And merrily took wing Whilst I gallantly kissed, Kissed her nectar kisser. Past mullbery skies we soared, All the way unto her land of bliss Where upon we swam naked, Naked in halcyon waters, Waters of her land. Together, we made poetry Of love and life so blind, Cherishing moment after moment One could search forever to find, Whilst gallivanting from star to star, Only alone by ourselves on yonder To a very distant colourful clime, Yonder beyond restrictions of time.
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51
I live in a fairytopia in mind, drifting with wings golden brown. With eyes that see beauty in everything. With a heart that expands with visions to write. I live in a fairytopia, dancing to bond with Mother Earth. To live peacefully in oneness. To celebrate all who have gravitated to earth. I live in a fairtytopia, moving with open heart. With a human-like body that sends love compassionately. With a dream that all can awaken for peace. StarBG © 2017
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May 9, 2017
May 9, 2017 at 12:31 PM UTC
Fairytopia
Sometimes I go into the city at night alone. Let the pavement trace the way without breaks, get lost under the blue lights. I go to the places we used to and sometimes get a little drunk – I don’t want to remember but I have gravitated to these places so maybe I should just honour my cravings for you – the sickly-sweet syrup of your spit, the saffron, sticky honey of your eyes. We used to do the same together as I am now doing alone – let the concrete slabs pave the way without breaks; going nowhere and everywhere all at once.
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May 2, 2018
May 2, 2018 at 8:31 AM UTC
Blue Lights
I don't know what I thought I was going to find. All I knew is that you wanted me to come and I wanted go. So I went. I see it, now. You look this cute all the time. It doesn't matter how chaotic your surroundings are; You remain adorable, and I am in awe. Your heart wants validation, is desperate for affection. I could give it to you; and in a way, I do. But it's not my role. You have gravitated to me because I can meet your needs. But I can't, fully. I can be a reminder that you still have it; That you are beautiful and intelligent and all-around amazing. But that's what I am; a reminder. It's a delicate tension you have, Wanting for yourself and wishing that I had someone else. We can't be what we never would admit we wanted; And what we are now is complicated, at best. I adore you. If I could, I would make sure you never forgot those words. But I can't; it's not my role. I will treasure this time and will be what you need me to be. That isn't what either of us want, but it will be what we need.
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Dec 3, 2014
Dec 3, 2014 at 9:57 PM UTC
Want vs. Need
It Burns inside With passion, Deep sensation. The power of your look Takes over, I'm hooked. I'm under your spell, I'm gravitated to you. The power of the moon, I'm bound to you. You disappear in light Your whispers float in the wind. Darkness falls, Your deep with in. I feel your heart Beat one with mine Your spell casting, along with time. I hear you. Your here, near I feel You. I found you. I'm bound to you.
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Jul 11, 2011
Jul 11, 2011 at 7:38 PM UTC
Spell Bound
Gone be yon melted summer's day Whilst shrouded in robes of sorrow That never quill of a bard can portray Nor years unborn may ever know When a fair maiden pottered my way, Gently as drops of descending snow. Her eyes fairer than burnished gold Illuminated the vast shadowy night, Ebony hair upon her seraphic body rolled With a diadem of reddest roses bedight That swifter than a gallant knight so bold, I plunged to Elysium at such a sight. For she bore beauty of a silvery moon In lone splendor upon heavens bay, The pulchritude of sun beams by noon Against the sea on a fine blazing day. Now that love casted her novelty boon, Timidly I gravitated towards her way And in fables faintly whispered unto her: "Little maiden, little maiden, little maiden, O queen fairer than chalcedonic luster; Are flowers of yonder golden Aidenn More fair and redolent than thou are?" This did gladden - I strayed in a garden; Her garden of ethereal pulchritude Where no mortal ever walked through And now doth hearts gambol with glee 'Neath elm leaves bedight with stars above That the beauty queen calls it balm of Gilead To visit her garden - a garden of love. ©Kikodinho Edward Alexandros, Los Angels, California, USA              12th/09/2018
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Sep 12, 2018
Sep 12, 2018 at 5:26 AM UTC
THE GARDEN OF LOVE
Above the welkin, many luminous orbs coruscate with perseveration. These disorganized celestial bodies emulate one another but their uneven rhythm is apparent to starry eyed observers. Eyes gazing fascinated by the unmeasurable exquisiteness that exists just beyond outstretched hands. As one beholder marveled the other closed disconsolate eyes and gravitated towards the tangible. It was in that moment that the steadfast watcher found what it was that they had been seeking. A falling star dropped just low enough that with desperate leaping and grasping it was within reach. The burning had not been accounted for. Nor had the sudden departure from the satellite that orbited just a little to close and had only the desire to emulate others with uneven rhythm.
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Jun 5, 2012
Jun 5, 2012 at 12:14 AM UTC
Empyreal
Your presence passes me like a slow-moving satellite revolving around my head, slurred into mesh—so gravitated. Love is a shade which covers me close to your body, in sync like the movements of the planets, pivoting harmonious in the deep, dark mystery of your sheltered embrace, and the universe seems to settle around me calm and constellated.    Your eyes, a deep depiction in the mind, so starry, I see nothing more but stars. Bright as the brilliance of the fire of my affection at the core of my soul, lit with passion, intense as a thousand suns, a million moonlit galaxies, is my love which seems to have no end. Your presence passes me, a slow-moving satellite revolving around like a moon to Jupiter, boy, I feel that pull.
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Aug 15, 2015
Aug 15, 2015 at 4:59 PM UTC
Callisto to Jupitar
The fear of rejection haunts my taunting soul The eyes of god illuminate through the illusion of hope Silence Misery creeps among the stars Honesty lingers mindlessly around the moon Anxious Reality twists and turns Insecurity starts to flow Outbursts and thoughts dance with one another Thoughts travel From the mind Through the guileless heart Midnight skies thunder in contemplation Omitted while resigning from solitude Lighting beams impressions And strikes unforgettably Remorse Rose are quandary veiled in thorns Glamorized secrets Planted with tulips in the Spring Vibrations spirit forth the branches of trees Fog Masks the anthropomorphic perception Triggers instinct of intuition Rationality halts, wills relish The eyes of god forsake hope Fear taunts thoughts Rejection haunts souls Misfortunes recollect the bitter anima Lightly, the amity surrenders in the panicked streams of night Soundly, Charitably, And Sincerely, Tongue tied she scrupulously riveted Across the room she neglectfully obscured the chair that supported his back Togging on strands of denigrated comfort Grains of sand that endless lay the shore Mindless their eyes gravitated in contact thirty seconds of encrypted reflections Breathless laid rejection She consigned to oblivion Gathered by curiosity he sternly attends the strength “What’s wrong?” Admiration beams from the brims of his eyes Grim of Frustration leak from her ****** expression Hesitated Continuously and distract she roamed away from him his thoughts And admiration Paralyzed by fear Silence drives her composer deeply and thoughtfully she inhaled Breathlessly — “A cup of coffee would sound nice, wouldn’t it?”
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Mar 25, 2016
Mar 25, 2016 at 12:08 PM UTC
five thirty in the morning
The fear of rejection haunts my taunting soul The eyes of god illuminate through the illusion of hope Silence Misery creeps among the stars Honesty lingers mindlessly around the moon Anxious Reality twists and turns Insecurity starts to flow Outbursts and thoughts dance with one another Thoughts travel From the mind Through the guileless heart Midnight skies thunder in contemplation Omitted while resigning from solitude Lighting beams impressions And strikes unforgettably Remorse Rose are quandary veiled in thorns Glamorized secrets Planted with tulips in the Spring Vibrations spirit forth the branches of trees Fog Masks the anthropomorphic perception Triggers instinct of intuition Rationality halts, wills relish The eyes of god forsake hope Fear taunts thoughts Rejection haunts souls Misfortunes recollect the bitter anima Lightly, the amity surrenders in the panicked streams of night Soundly, Charitably, And Sincerely, Tongue tied she scrupulously riveted Across the room she neglectfully obscured the chair that supported his back Togging on strands of denigrated comfort Grains of sand that endless lay the shore Mindless their eyes gravitated in contact thirty seconds of encrypted reflections Breathless laid rejection She consigned to oblivion Gathered by curiosity he sternly attends the strength “What’s wrong?” Admiration beams from the brims of his eyes Grim of Frustration leak from her ****** expression Hesitated Continuously and distract she roamed away from him his thoughts And admiration Paralyzed by fear Silence drives her composer deeply and thoughtfully she inhaled Breathlessly — “A cup of coffee would sound nice, wouldn’t it?”
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53
i just came here for the whiskey and music, the rest is zoology formerly known as darwinism, i.e. logically me monkey you you monkey me was going to be a rainforest and not a cage, but the purring in o# gravitated us to the stratosphere of talkative dinosaurs: you know... no rain for millennia... then volcanic eruptions and to the bone tattoos... i almost clapped with the t-rex concerning our fate without theology; but god it was funny, runny ***** too, i told the reptilian rejects (crocodiles and snakes and leather boots) - ‘mind ‘em monkeys, they’ll start to juggle a single sound into many and discover the steam engine and scalpel! and depilate for the obsessiveness of ********* *** with politicians singing - pinky pinky fold into knuckle, floyd my barber whisked up nirvana!’ yep... you just caught me with two watermelons and four flamingos lodged in my armpits while i pursed my lips waiting for applied lipstick. it's not that i think evolutionary biology is incorrect... but for god's sake, i need the word for fluidity and the friday night cinematic stretching of legs knowing that no one made a career from talking crap imitating a choir of gorillas hoping for a beatbox in the chest of the hidden seal’s applause.
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Oct 9, 2015
Oct 9, 2015 at 9:49 AM UTC
get rich or ooh ooh!
*Not so many moons ago, You and I in a star-ship Flitting amongst stars, gallivanting Whilst remeniscing of moments Indelible moments trapped in time Only flying-by, eloping to Elysium Fancying fair lands Lands pervaded with flowers Flowers blooming in perpetuity Lands with rushing rivers Rivers serpentining with nector Lands with novelty sea shores Shores veiled with diamonds Lands enveloped by lustrous stars Stars painting words of desire Lands with halcyon seas Seas as smooth as a millpond Lands where the only air There is to inhale is love Lands where love is woven by A tapestry of truth not lies Lands where love isn't bought by Sapphires, Rubies nor Emeralds Lands where all avenues Are paved with green and gold Lands where mountains Are golden-capped Distant was the journey Though at length, For what seemed a life time, Our eyes feasted on And from a distance, There we gazed about her In all her splendor Ravishingly alluring yet resplendent With all chatoyance One could ever imagine of Like any one else would, At a speed of an eagle Descending about her prey, Fervently we gravitated Only to touch down Than when the luster about her Had our vessel*  combusted to ash! © Kikodinho Alexandros 4th Jun 2016
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Jun 3, 2016
Jun 3, 2016 at 10:26 PM UTC
COMBUSTED TO ASH (EPIC)
as if the neurons in my brain joined rank and gave me a synaptic 'fuck you' as if the god's turned their backs while Zeus shot lightening bolts through my computer screen as if the Earth gravitated to *her new lover* Mars while the saddened Moon watched from a starlit view as if the page was the curved ivory tusk of an untamed mastodon charging from the left indent as if the blinking cursor was a dagger ramming itself into Caesar's back as if the word processor itself was a ticking time bomb with enough explosive force to rip through the loose-knit fabric of literary space-time and as if the words themselves were locked away in some distant prison, sitting in death row, waiting to be executed
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Dec 21, 2012
Dec 21, 2012 at 11:30 PM UTC
writer's block
Ambling along the seaside a group of youth on the brink, looking for good music and cheap beer we drank Jameson straight from the bottle and poured cheap wine down each others throats and then you grabbed my hand and you pulled me along like we were lovers but I'd only just met you that day. Closing in on a heaving crowd outside a dark edged bar, we all agreed. Stepping in he whispered, "You're my girlfriend for the night right?" I didn't respond ruminations and innocence didn't recognize it was just the way you were i did not know you after all. this person --- an enigma a formation of every external fantasy was feasting upon me like prey. Mind fuckery tipped me to the point of no return. For a moment I lost you in the crowd and I drank myself into a stupid spin when I looked up to the landing, you were there looking down on me. I danced wildly as your eyes burned into mine. a mission on your mind. Later we fell out of the sweat infused bar incomprehensibly drunk with glee and drinking in fresh air. Against the wall, the others fell and laughed, but you --- you grabbed my neck, my face, my being, while wild curiosity burned in your eyes. and you say that I'm intense... Twisting our faces into a kiss, you were so unexpected you grabbed my hand, and we ran into the grass across the street, but instead of sunlight and fresh flowers taxi cabs and punters filled the streets around us and I could hear our friends looking Intwined for a moment --- frozen in time swift and fleeting, we struggled for breath discovering each other with crazed passion -- until it stopped suddenly an interruption of unimaginable events. they screamed our names and so it was over. gathered again the group headed toward the dawn, but that kiss --- still wet on my mouth left me gravitated but you distanced yourself with disregard. I fell more in lust the further apart we grew down the alley ways the cobblestone paths, damp streets and street dwellers towards the train and back to inevitable reality couples and friends walking separately, and as one but you were not with me. I wished that moment would continue that we would walk into the light of some irrational dream and then I woke up in a foreign land tears filled my eyes You said you were crazy when you drink, but maybe i'm just crazy.
0
Jun 25, 2013
Jun 25, 2013 at 3:28 AM UTC
Over my head
Ambling along the seaside a group of youth on the brink, looking for good music and cheap beer we drank Jameson straight from the bottle and poured cheap wine down each others throats and then you grabbed my hand and you pulled me along like we were lovers but I'd only just met you that day. Closing in on a heaving crowd outside a dark edged bar, we all agreed. Stepping in he whispered, "You're my girlfriend for the night right?" I didn't respond ruminations and innocence didn't recognize it was just the way you were i did not know you after all. this person --- an enigma a formation of every external fantasy was feasting upon me like prey. Mind fuckery tipped me to the point of no return. For a moment I lost you in the crowd and I drank myself into a stupid spin when I looked up to the landing, you were there looking down on me. I danced wildly as your eyes burned into mine. a mission on your mind. Later we fell out of the sweat infused bar incomprehensibly drunk with glee and drinking in fresh air. Against the wall, the others fell and laughed, but you --- you grabbed my neck, my face, my being, while wild curiosity burned in your eyes. and you say that I'm intense... Twisting our faces into a kiss, you were so unexpected you grabbed my hand, and we ran into the grass across the street, but instead of sunlight and fresh flowers taxi cabs and punters filled the streets around us and I could hear our friends looking Intwined for a moment --- frozen in time swift and fleeting, we struggled for breath discovering each other with crazed passion -- until it stopped suddenly an interruption of unimaginable events. they screamed our names and so it was over. gathered again the group headed toward the dawn, but that kiss --- still wet on my mouth left me gravitated but you distanced yourself with disregard. I fell more in lust the further apart we grew down the alley ways the cobblestone paths, damp streets and street dwellers towards the train and back to inevitable reality couples and friends walking separately, and as one but you were not with me. I wished that moment would continue that we would walk into the light of some irrational dream and then I woke up in a foreign land tears filled my eyes You said you were crazy when you drink, but maybe i'm just crazy.
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79
there was always this crack in her voice when she spoke, sometimes not too distinct but it was almost as if she was trying to block out the noise and the arms that try to reach she stood like a wilting flower, head bowing at pavements and worn out tiles yet she possessed this beauty that signified the last dying hours of a queen she was lovely but lacked being loved and although her hands were made to stretch out to pieces that could build her whole, she was always too lonely, too alone her heart gravitated toward those who were broken and upon seeking she served as their comfort and they, as body parts, temporary but not permanent enough to keep her together she was a puzzle piece that never fit, often dismantled and avoided but despite solitary, she ignited like a bleeding petal an unperceivable watch on broken wrists, ticking the life out of human beings, a countdown forever on repeat she would have never guessed how many hearts she could capture just by grasping them with her eyes, so departed and vacant from feet-up yet so alive such a beautiful girl capable of suicide and saving lives of those who now continue to remain as survivors yet any second, this wilting flower could give out and die and sadly, her beauty wouldn't be enough to save her life n.j.
0
Mar 5, 2016
Mar 5, 2016 at 7:53 PM UTC
the wilting flower
Twitched strings, the clang of metal, beaten drums; dull, shrill, continuous, disquieting. The stealthy dancer comes undulant with cat-like steps that cling. The smile of evil crept between her painted lids, a smile. Motionless, unintelligible, she twines her fingers into mazy lines, the scarves across her fingers twine the while. One, two, three, four glide forth, and, to and fro, delicately and imperceptibly. You could hear the seraphs cry in between the swift dessous topped off with a jeté. The observers watched every move, they have no idea what the young coryphée has in store. A crimson blade covered her legs during every hypnotizing glide and sway; a matching blade for every female in the assembly, they wouldn't move from their spots on stage. They formed a pentagram with their swords; they were each so beautiful. So mesmerizing for the crowd to be graced with such pure refinement. The lead dancer gave a gesture and that's when it happened. The girls twirled, gravitated away from their positions. Blood covers the entire floor like the rain falling; drenching the ground, dark red blood seeps into the nice hardwood floor. A body lays dead and bled out. They compiled a dance of death and evil, every pirouette sliced into the already rotted flesh. Slabs of skin thrown across the platform, horrified viewers didn't speak. Gruesome, yet beautiful. They finished and returned to their previous, assigned places of formation and the only sound is that of the maggots eating away at the rotting flesh, swallowing bites at a time adding more to the foul smell of decay. The eyes burned onto the stage, heat built up. No one said a word; no one knew what they were suppose to say. Is it all an act? It must be, these things don't just happen, right? A few vomited because of the gut wrenching stench that overwhelmed the room. The dancers eyes never left the floor, she simply bowed and twirled off stage; Her legs were never visible but you could see the foot prints forming behind her, they were made from blood.
0
Feb 19, 2016
Feb 19, 2016 at 1:44 PM UTC
The Screech of the Dark Sisters (short story)
Twitched strings, the clang of metal, beaten drums; dull, shrill, continuous, disquieting. The stealthy dancer comes undulant with cat-like steps that cling. The smile of evil crept between her painted lids, a smile. Motionless, unintelligible, she twines her fingers into mazy lines, the scarves across her fingers twine the while. One, two, three, four glide forth, and, to and fro, delicately and imperceptibly. You could hear the seraphs cry in between the swift dessous topped off with a jeté. The observers watched every move, they have no idea what the young coryphée has in store. A crimson blade covered her legs during every hypnotizing glide and sway; a matching blade for every female in the assembly, they wouldn't move from their spots on stage. They formed a pentagram with their swords; they were each so beautiful. So mesmerizing for the crowd to be graced with such pure refinement. The lead dancer gave a gesture and that's when it happened. The girls twirled, gravitated away from their positions. Blood covers the entire floor like the rain falling; drenching the ground, dark red blood seeps into the nice hardwood floor. A body lays dead and bled out. They compiled a dance of death and evil, every pirouette sliced into the already rotted flesh. Slabs of skin thrown across the platform, horrified viewers didn't speak. Gruesome, yet beautiful. They finished and returned to their previous, assigned places of formation and the only sound is that of the maggots eating away at the rotting flesh, swallowing bites at a time adding more to the foul smell of decay. The eyes burned onto the stage, heat built up. No one said a word; no one knew what they were suppose to say. Is it all an act? It must be, these things don't just happen, right? A few vomited because of the gut wrenching stench that overwhelmed the room. The dancers eyes never left the floor, she simply bowed and twirled off stage; Her legs were never visible but you could see the foot prints forming behind her, they were made from blood.
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8
It was as if the ghostly hands of his very soul had grasped my two shoulders and shook me till I was numb. A violent whirl of emotions had consumed my entire being and the feeling was so abrupt I almost felt sick. The moment the first sound escaped his lips I was captivated. I was his devoted prisoner, locked in his head. His heart. His voice was so disturbingly beautiful. His aura overflowed; the dark passion he dispersed with every note he sang took me to a place only he had been. A place he created. A place where he was alone. I felt so special, so important, to be the first person he had taken to this place. His lips trembled as his voice slowed to a stop. My soul slowly gravitated back to its rightful place in my body, though I preferred being way up high with the stars, with the power of the universe, the place of which Evan goes when he sings, I knew I would always end up in this shell.
0
May 27, 2018
May 27, 2018 at 6:34 AM UTC
evan
I dared to start a race, A race to reach out a novelty Hut That chatoyantly beamed in the distance. Of gold were the thatches of the Hut, Her pair of windows an emerald surface, And of ivory the floor of the Hut, A Hut that even a Seraph would fancy; Ecstatic, I gravitated thus to the Hut, Hastily than rain in a helter skelter dash To kiss the earth, so dashed I to the Hut. But, the nearer I drew, infinite the space, The space betwixt I and my dream Hut. Somehow along the way I thus lost pace, Though yonder I kept trudging to the Hut, Vying with reality for a happenstance To ever dwell in such an ineffable Hut. Soon, I realized there could be no chance, For the nearer I drew, further the Hut. Beneath tides of despair I regretted thus, Regretted the moment I dared to start, Starting such a game trickier than Chase, A race to reach out thy Heart. ©Kikodinho Edward Alexandros Jumeira, Dubai June 13th 2017
0
Jun 13, 2017
Jun 13, 2017 at 2:49 PM UTC
I DARED TO START A RACE
I have a confession to make, since I was a child, I've been predisposed to anxiety, fear and apprehension, all barriers of the same kind, sometimes I push through, and sometimes I wallow, letting it sink in late at night, sitting on my roof waiting for sun to rise, hand gripping my chest, the place where I've been told my heart is. It for this reason that I've always gravitated to the idea of courage, not a lack thereof, but the ability to surmount fear in favor of greener pastures, but in truth we're all the same, we share the same night sky, the same sun, born with a beating heart, and with that heart comes fear, fear of failure, inadequacy stabs deeply the hearts of the young, and as we age it lessens but it doesn't ever go away, and sometimes there is a rarer form of fear, the fear of success, this fear is most often unnoticed, but festers unseen as we go about our day to day, for what would we do with wealth, who are we to be loved, and who are we to influence others? Personally I am far more afraid of being successful, for with abundance, comes responsibility, and ultimately, more to lose, but I think that if I live my life in fear of loss, that I will find myself hapless and cornered, cut off at all sides by my own insecurities, parts separated by the mounting tension, a culmination of what if's, apprehension and loneliness, similar by design, two components of fear, a common string we tie inside, letting it show in our eyes. I think fear is an interesting thing, if not for fear, mankind would have died off long ago, fear is what gets us off our knees, it starts us on the path, but what is missing? I have started walking countless times only to trip, falling over my own feet, inhibitions distilled in me as a child, for the road is long and the solitude is overwhelming, and somewhere in my heart I know that courage is what I'm missing, I am afraid, I am afraid of serving a God I do not know, I am afraid of turning away a God that weeps for my sake, I am afraid of meeting new people, I am afraid of spending my life with one person, I am afraid of change, I am afraid of stagnation, I am afraid of you, I am afraid of myself, I am afraid of fear, and I am afraid of courage, but courage is what keeps you going, for it easier to give up and sit down, for fear of stumbling, or perhaps the fear of finding what lies ahead, what will we find at the end of the road? I choose to stand up and try again, and I think that you'll agree, it is better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all, and it is better to die on your feet, than to live on your knees.
0
Feb 10, 2014
Feb 10, 2014 at 5:26 AM UTC
An Apprehensive Step Forward
I have a confession to make, since I was a child, I've been predisposed to anxiety, fear and apprehension, all barriers of the same kind, sometimes I push through, and sometimes I wallow, letting it sink in late at night, sitting on my roof waiting for sun to rise, hand gripping my chest, the place where I've been told my heart is. It for this reason that I've always gravitated to the idea of courage, not a lack thereof, but the ability to surmount fear in favor of greener pastures, but in truth we're all the same, we share the same night sky, the same sun, born with a beating heart, and with that heart comes fear, fear of failure, inadequacy stabs deeply the hearts of the young, and as we age it lessens but it doesn't ever go away, and sometimes there is a rarer form of fear, the fear of success, this fear is most often unnoticed, but festers unseen as we go about our day to day, for what would we do with wealth, who are we to be loved, and who are we to influence others? Personally I am far more afraid of being successful, for with abundance, comes responsibility, and ultimately, more to lose, but I think that if I live my life in fear of loss, that I will find myself hapless and cornered, cut off at all sides by my own insecurities, parts separated by the mounting tension, a culmination of what if's, apprehension and loneliness, similar by design, two components of fear, a common string we tie inside, letting it show in our eyes. I think fear is an interesting thing, if not for fear, mankind would have died off long ago, fear is what gets us off our knees, it starts us on the path, but what is missing? I have started walking countless times only to trip, falling over my own feet, inhibitions distilled in me as a child, for the road is long and the solitude is overwhelming, and somewhere in my heart I know that courage is what I'm missing, I am afraid, I am afraid of serving a God I do not know, I am afraid of turning away a God that weeps for my sake, I am afraid of meeting new people, I am afraid of spending my life with one person, I am afraid of change, I am afraid of stagnation, I am afraid of you, I am afraid of myself, I am afraid of fear, and I am afraid of courage, but courage is what keeps you going, for it easier to give up and sit down, for fear of stumbling, or perhaps the fear of finding what lies ahead, what will we find at the end of the road? I choose to stand up and try again, and I think that you'll agree, it is better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all, and it is better to die on your feet, than to live on your knees.
Continue reading...
77