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"hibernating" poems
My flaws are not pretty. My imperfections are not endearing, my vices are not quirky, and my regrets are not intriguing and elusive. They’re ugly and unsettling; better off buried in the catacomb that is my memory. better off dormant, hibernating through all four seasons. They destroy and ravage anything that they can get their hands on. They spread like wildfire through any self-respect that might be living inside me. Burning up every last trace of my dignity until all that’s left is a shower of ash and things I wish I could forget. They don’t add character or substance and leave me blinded by contempt. They whisper to me that I don’t deserve to be happy. And I listen to them. They’re angry and want revenge.
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Aug 11, 2017
Aug 11, 2017 at 6:12 PM UTC
"Tell me every terrible thing you ever did, and let me love you anyway.”
Finding a lover is effortless for some people. They only want a few things: Someone attractive, kind, funny or rich. But I desire something so much deeper. I want an intelligent mind that wakes up thoughts in me I didn't realize were hibernating. I want to converse, analyze and debate without being conscious of the sun rising and falling between our words. I want to make a witty remark at a coffee shop so he can reply sarcastically just for me to jab back immediately and for him to comeback back playfully until we're both laughing stomachs shaking spit flying the whole store staring and we leave without coffee I want our hands to stitch together perfectly like two lost puzzle pieces; one found under a couch cushion one found inside a junk drawer. The rest of the puzzle has already been thrown away but these two pieces remain and they fit. I want to fall in love together then together fall in love with art, museums, songs, poems T.V shows, radio jingles, greek food, backroads, our mutual hatred for pop culture, doing the dishes (as long as he washes and I dry) wrong turns, piled up laundry, life. Just fall in love with life. I want to hurt with him I want to save the world with him I want to meet, see, understand and experience all that is foreign with him. I think it will only take us meeting and it'll only be history and happiness from then on. It's just a matter of if a love like that could ever be and if a love like that could ever be for me.
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Oct 3, 2017
Oct 3, 2017 at 11:35 PM UTC
Why I'm Single
You take my breath away You sweep my feet out from under me You catch me by surprise When I look in your eyes And I see That you believe in me Want me to succeed You freeze all of the pain that is hibernating in my heart You melt me down until you see nothing but emotion Give me potion That shows my weaknesses Forcing me to turn them into strengths And fate has brought you to me Just keep smiling and I promise you'll never lose me You know exactly what to say to bring me out of my dark place And that's not easy Ask anybody who knows me You make my pain subside And I realize That I'm alive when you are near me But you don't even see past the wall that's called friendship You have all these dudes talking to you But I'll treat you like a princess I want to defend your honor Harbor all the feelings I have And write so they can make sense Because honestly you've taken my sense of direction My moral compass leads directly to you Throw that thing in the garbage and I'll still go directly to you You see you might not see that I believe in you and me And if there is a you and me I swear to love you unconditionally You have my head spinning And in my dizziness I only see you You are the bright light that brings me out of the fog You are my North Star I look at you And I'm home
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Nov 16, 2013
Nov 16, 2013 at 10:02 AM UTC
My North Star
you will go your way despite my protests no use lamenting what was never promised the sun rides low the horizon soon it will not clear the treetops storms gather in the northern sea needled wind to scattered seed hoary frost on yellowed grass dark leaves in mirrored puddles a suspended death crystalline and indeterminate there is no fire hot enough to stave off the first chill of a careless winter the numb hibernating sleep soft gray melting days the desperate wish to regain summer
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Sep 30, 2016
Sep 30, 2016 at 7:07 PM UTC
Season's End
i stand in front of the Bath, Taking a moment to enjoy the experience before it starts. Stream rises from the Surface, Like butterflies over a field of fresh spring blossoms It hovers, seductively inviting me in with a lazy sense if urgency. In the corner, a lone Candle flickers in the rising Steam, Lazily shining its Light Like a Capetonian on a lazy summers evening sipping wine under the setting sun. The Water, blue from the bubblebath, Smells like an orange, ancient, triangular spire in the early dawn of Time. The hot Water receives my body And awakens hibernating skin From its cold, white winter's slumber. The curious Water Finds its way all over my skin In every corner it can, It crawls into And caresses me softly Slowly I relax, As Sir Isaac Newton makes my bath colder And as my skin and water temperatures equalise I lose all sense of self Held afloat by the mighty Water I gaze at the white bubbles As they dance on my chest Popping and merging Reflecting light and whispering Until I finally fall asleep in blissful relaxation.
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Aug 1, 2014
Aug 1, 2014 at 9:43 PM UTC
The Bath
scuttling across the valley, the trench was deep and steep scorching heat of the dry sun, dried blemishes on the weathered skin. Settling along the rocky facades, hackneyed by the haunting past. Sleepless nights of the perching predators, Hibernating in aloof worlds . Stymied by the wind in the barren land , Harnessed by the futile fears. Simone Melchoir of the sinking ship , would not you go down with the fault. Shunning away from natures affection , for every rose does share its thorn . Sunny ends are reached , when the raging ravines fade away. Slithering away the swirling serpent , The sun lurks in the brewing storm . Sanctity of the witheld winds , sapping away the deathly darkness. Serene air of the seraphic angel, brought the plighting dreams to the refugees repose Smelting ores and melting poles, brimming with brightness the cradled cirque . Summons of the exalted virtue , To burn the lizard and fly away like the phoenix Succumbing to the wilderness, to soaring heights and rising spirits . Swanking in the soothing winds, the phoenix looked down on the plundering valley. Scorning at the downtrodden spirits, The fraternity of the Desert lizard
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May 20, 2012
May 20, 2012 at 1:23 AM UTC
the desert lizard
I was a better love poet When we were dating The anxiety to be exactly what you're looking for stimulated all my hibernating thoughts Now a good lover But a skeptical writer Anticipation would stir my imagination Now blank with a pen To every word chain To every verse To every unfolding stanza There was magic and rhythm This translated into intimacy But I have got a plan I'm going to take my mind on excursion Do bungee jumping so I seize an out of body moment I'm taking on a travelling job To miss you so much so often For all that love For all the nostalgia To burst into a word montage
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Apr 1, 2018
Apr 1, 2018 at 2:55 PM UTC
Renaissance
My Suppressed Anger I hold it all in, everything they've said, I mold it all in, inside of my head, We all go through it, me and you, Yes you've all been, in my shoes, I don't want to listen to what others have to say, I wake up thinking negatively every day, I care about those that feel like me, I think I can help but then I realise their not as ****** up as me, I sit in my awkward posture, here I am, corner of the sofa, once again same place every time, thinking of words with paper cuts and pens, with a mouth jibbering like I just ate a lime, I'm not good and I'm not fine, and if I say I am then I am lying, I'm not happy and I'm not free, not as free as I'd like to be, When I'm in a group of people I'm not shy, but I'm not charismatic either or sly, I don't always show my emotions but I don't always hide, Although I suppress all of my anger inside, I don't want you to deal with my feelings, I don't want you to tell me how to get by, I don't want you to tell me I'm a human being, sometimes I want to die, But you can't help me when I'm down, the most you'll get from me is a smile or a frown, Even though I'm not happy like you, I can pretend, a little false smile, just for a while, I'll think of the good times in that split second, and reminisce in memories that have come to an end, I can be anybody for a day, but I'll just be me, once you go away, I'll just sit there like a lazy bear, hibernating like a rabbit, I don't give myself any care, but staring at my spots became a habit, I don't like to attention seek, but I don't mind sharing in an artistic form the secrets I keep, Well I'd like to speak to a person who cares, But I've not found that person just yet, So I'll just learn how to draw manga, listen to depressing *** music and write a poem about my suppressed anger. 14/01/15 ~Peace~ By Larna Kira Kourtis AKA LkSkyFlyRose © 2015 LkSkyFlyRose (All rights reserved)
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Jan 14, 2015
Jan 14, 2015 at 4:52 PM UTC
My Suppressed Anger
My Suppressed Anger I hold it all in, everything they've said, I mold it all in, inside of my head, We all go through it, me and you, Yes you've all been, in my shoes, I don't want to listen to what others have to say, I wake up thinking negatively every day, I care about those that feel like me, I think I can help but then I realise their not as ****** up as me, I sit in my awkward posture, here I am, corner of the sofa, once again same place every time, thinking of words with paper cuts and pens, with a mouth jibbering like I just ate a lime, I'm not good and I'm not fine, and if I say I am then I am lying, I'm not happy and I'm not free, not as free as I'd like to be, When I'm in a group of people I'm not shy, but I'm not charismatic either or sly, I don't always show my emotions but I don't always hide, Although I suppress all of my anger inside, I don't want you to deal with my feelings, I don't want you to tell me how to get by, I don't want you to tell me I'm a human being, sometimes I want to die, But you can't help me when I'm down, the most you'll get from me is a smile or a frown, Even though I'm not happy like you, I can pretend, a little false smile, just for a while, I'll think of the good times in that split second, and reminisce in memories that have come to an end, I can be anybody for a day, but I'll just be me, once you go away, I'll just sit there like a lazy bear, hibernating like a rabbit, I don't give myself any care, but staring at my spots became a habit, I don't like to attention seek, but I don't mind sharing in an artistic form the secrets I keep, Well I'd like to speak to a person who cares, But I've not found that person just yet, So I'll just learn how to draw manga, listen to depressing *** music and write a poem about my suppressed anger. 14/01/15 ~Peace~ By Larna Kira Kourtis AKA LkSkyFlyRose © 2015 LkSkyFlyRose (All rights reserved)
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58
my soul was hibernating until gently roused by Your love
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Jul 27, 2014
Jul 27, 2014 at 9:02 AM UTC
hibernation
Fall has left its mark cold on my heart, touching life with deadly fingers, reducing all to brown and gray. Love has faded into gray along with the coming of snow, wiping out all warmth and memory of it’s short stays. For love comes and goes without so much as a word, hibernating far from my warm bed and hiding despite my prayers. Loneliness has marked it’s territory And love leaves me alone.
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Aug 26, 2012
Aug 26, 2012 at 11:56 AM UTC
FALLING INTO WINTER
With a blistered heart From unnumbered breaks, A cloud of unshed tears From untold betrayals, I reenter the world After an eternity or more Of self imposed asylum From a world of superficial bliss. A world unchanged! A cruel untended garden Of deceptive beauty And unkind thorny roses. Lovelorn shadows, Masquerading venomous claws With beauteous flamboyance And undesirable attraction. Lethargic feelings, Dousing my desires With drowsing memoirs Of countless emotional abuse, Causing momentary spasms In cerebral regions Parading nocuous images In the plenitude of projected beauty. Scarred beyond immediate cure, I recede from said world- Too adverse for tender hearts Back to hibernating moods To nurse evergreen cuts Cuts so deep, so lethal Only the indolent strides of time Can attempt to stitch! Awaiting prophetic moments Moments with mirage qualities When in-love I can fall again When a damsel I can trust again When my heart can beat again For one with pure intentions Not putrefied by Hollywood mentors *But virtuous in biblical ways*... © Raphael Uzor
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Apr 21, 2014
Apr 21, 2014 at 1:17 AM UTC
Love Asylum
By paper-lantern light flames colour a snow crystals dance, beautifully enchanting, to the distant sound of singing; Joyous songs of celebration, lulling all in revelry. Each note heard in silent reverence, beneath the skeletal canopy of majestic oak spread. Where from amongst the damp branches, wise old saucer eyes calls "Ubi? Ubi?", heralding a cacophony of wide-eyed whispers This afternoon, sweet twilight guides our paths as we search on ever onward journeys unknown; Our arms collecting firewood, to fill the empty hearths of others. Unaware of the cold hands, we are, when there's such warmth in our hearts. We toil within the stillness, snow falling softly, and covering the    crisp ground. From deep beneath the dazzling pure white, tiny hibernating animists    blink wide from the                               warmth of hidden    woodland beds.                        Gently,             sweep the                   12 droplets                              of ice from                 all our eyes, Sol,                                                 as we cough        darkness                                                      from our      lungs,                                               watching the sparkles     of no                                                                     matter,  floating                   in the  paper-             lantern light                    to scatter across     this   Solstice   sky, illuminating our fates, as cold  snowflake hearts twinkle like falling stars, unseen, turning, embracing the return of the Light
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Dec 14, 2012
Dec 14, 2012 at 4:24 AM UTC
Gathering Yonder (poem art) for Winter Solstice
By paper-lantern light flames colour a snow crystals dance, beautifully enchanting, to the distant sound of singing; Joyous songs of celebration, lulling all in revelry. Each note heard in silent reverence, beneath the skeletal canopy of majestic oak spread. Where from amongst the damp branches, wise old saucer eyes calls "Ubi? Ubi?", heralding a cacophony of wide-eyed whispers This afternoon, sweet twilight guides our paths as we search on ever onward journeys unknown; Our arms collecting firewood, to fill the empty hearths of others. Unaware of the cold hands, we are, when there's such warmth in our hearts. We toil within the stillness, snow falling softly, and covering the    crisp ground. From deep beneath the dazzling pure white, tiny hibernating animists    blink wide from the                               warmth of hidden    woodland beds.                        Gently,             sweep the                   12 droplets                              of ice from                 all our eyes, Sol,                                                 as we cough        darkness                                                      from our      lungs,                                               watching the sparkles     of no                                                                     matter,  floating                   in the  paper-             lantern light                    to scatter across     this   Solstice   sky, illuminating our fates, as cold  snowflake hearts twinkle like falling stars, unseen, turning, embracing the return of the Light
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it's cold out there it goes on and on and on and if you go fast, if you go really fast if you look in the right direction you might find what you're looking for. Open the pod bay doors HAL and HAL while your at it why don't you cut me another line, as long and fat as your middle finger and haha not YOUR middle finger HAL of course not, since you don't got one, but make it big HAL, make it big. it's cold out there, but in here Dave, in here with three hibernating astronauts, the temperature is kept at a nice seventy-six degrees Fahrenheit, the humidity matches that of a small town in Illinios and you'll make it there Dave, to Jupiter, where the message went, where our hopes went, you'll make it, keep an eye out for me Dave, up in space. keep an extra space helmet handy Dave, I think you'd find that rather difficult without one.
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May 18, 2016
May 18, 2016 at 2:10 AM UTC
Without Your Space Helmet, Dave?
I am the stormy cloud That shades the pretty sun When you want to tan I am the pencil shavings That you blew off Your desk Because you didn't Want me there Anymore I am all the rips In your favorite Jeans I am your math book Hibernating in The bottom of your locker You never take me To class Because you forget me I am the petals You pick off the Sunflowers While you chant "She loves me, She loves me not" You'll never know if I do You always pluck me off And throw me on The ground I am the shadows In your room at night You get afraid And turn the other Way
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Apr 20, 2013
Apr 20, 2013 at 9:59 AM UTC
Negative
By paper-lantern light flames colour a snow crystals dance, beautifully enchanting, to the distant sound of singing; Joyous songs of celebration, lulling all in revelry. Each note heard in silent reverence, beneath the skeletal canopy of majestic oak spread. Where from amongst the damp branches,wise old saucer eyes calls "Ubi? Ubi?", heralding a cacophony of wide-eyed whispers. This afternoon, sweet twilight guides our paths as we search on ever onward journeys unknown; Our arms collecting firewood, to fill the empty hearths of others. Unaware of the cold hands, we are, when there's such warmth in our hearts. We toil within the stillness, snow falling softly,and covering the crisp ground. From deep beneath the dazzling pure white, tiny hibernating animists    blink wide from the                            warmth of hidden  woodland beds.                        Gently,             sweep the                   12 droplets                              of ice from                 all our eyes, Sol,                                                 as we cough        darkness                                                      from our      lungs,                                               watching the sparkles     of no                                                                     matter,  floating                   in the  paper-             lantern light                    to scatter across     this   Solstice   sky, illuminating our fates, as cold  snowflake hearts twinkle like falling stars, unseen, turning, embracing the return of the Light
0
Dec 20, 2013
Dec 20, 2013 at 5:49 AM UTC
Gathering Yonder (poem art) For Winter Solstice
By paper-lantern light flames colour a snow crystals dance, beautifully enchanting, to the distant sound of singing; Joyous songs of celebration, lulling all in revelry. Each note heard in silent reverence, beneath the skeletal canopy of majestic oak spread. Where from amongst the damp branches,wise old saucer eyes calls "Ubi? Ubi?", heralding a cacophony of wide-eyed whispers. This afternoon, sweet twilight guides our paths as we search on ever onward journeys unknown; Our arms collecting firewood, to fill the empty hearths of others. Unaware of the cold hands, we are, when there's such warmth in our hearts. We toil within the stillness, snow falling softly,and covering the crisp ground. From deep beneath the dazzling pure white, tiny hibernating animists    blink wide from the                            warmth of hidden  woodland beds.                        Gently,             sweep the                   12 droplets                              of ice from                 all our eyes, Sol,                                                 as we cough        darkness                                                      from our      lungs,                                               watching the sparkles     of no                                                                     matter,  floating                   in the  paper-             lantern light                    to scatter across     this   Solstice   sky, illuminating our fates, as cold  snowflake hearts twinkle like falling stars, unseen, turning, embracing the return of the Light
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27
when some said hello some said ha ha, said holmes without sherlock to signal a sighting in signature of fingerprinting a shake; but some said hello, some shook some with stipend erased freezing; after all... the doctor allowed a carcass to instil a freed numbness! a clown frowned attempting to be picky with laughter mascaraed, and then all hell ready to be hibernating yawned ready from the hyperbole excused ******* a tadpole into thinking of frogs. oh we loved the laugh the pouch of orange juiced pulled apart and pulped into skins and skinny; we were all ready for a hajj there and then! ha ha! make that scented with coriander!
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Sep 27, 2015
Sep 27, 2015 at 8:22 AM UTC
h. h. holmes at the hajj
I love you like... The moment that I realize I have two hours left and find out I didn't oversleep The Anticipation of telling beautiful surprises that are so challenging to keep The few seconds before we finally jump from a cliff that is just a little too steep The tears that bleed from my eyes out of joy, and aren't accompanied by a weep An uncontrollable smile after watching a puppy take it's very first spirited leap The freedom I feel from escaping the herd removing ourselves from the sheep The optimistic first steps of a child's feet standing up to life"s broom"s first sweep The necessary silence rarely shared from a reflecting gaze piercing ever so deep I think of you...when... The pain finally doesn"t hurt I wear my one favorite shirt The Perfect word is finally blurt Absolutely nothing left to exert Finished work covered in dirt The wind blows up your skirt Organically we begin to flirt Arrived Just in time for dessert I need you like... A runner needs his feet A writer needs a pen A song needs a beat A rooster needs a hen The cold needs the heat The military needs men A carnivore needs meat A monk needs his zen I miss you like... A plant wilting from a drought A dog laying by his owner"s grave Silence misses a necessary shout Hibernating bears without their cave A champion boxer"s very last bout An injured surfer watching a wave An old man"s window looking out Addiction misses his best friend crave
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Nov 13, 2013
Nov 13, 2013 at 8:33 PM UTC
Naturally
All is still. No more “Chase” or “Eggheads” from Tuesday. Everything is shutting down. The Winter Break is soon upon us. Our “Festive Season” it is called. Even Winter is having a rest this year. Sixty Fahrenheit outside now. I feel like hibernating ‘til the Spring. Yet some brave blossoms think the Winter over Already! Foolhardy flowers indeed. Our services are stumbling to a stop Like a long Bank Holiday. Sports facilities are shutting their doors. Cafes shutting soon. If only this stillness could pervade Those warring factions Throughout the world, All through the year. Peace to All Men We say. Amen to That. Paul Butters
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Dec 19, 2015
Dec 19, 2015 at 5:40 AM UTC
Stillness
seasons passing life goes on from snow to melt from blooming and thriving to wilting and migrating becoming orange and brown harvesting to hibernating soon the white will come again
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Sep 5, 2012
Sep 5, 2012 at 7:29 PM UTC
all too soon
The loneliness and the shudder rise in my throat sometimes still. Although I push them down into the ground like melt water, some people are born under vicious stars. November baby, your eyes the color of water holding light, smelling of burning leaves in forests whose names neither you nor I know. Now tell me, is this not a beautiful dream? You are a king of the failing daylight, long shadows, the frozen ground, turning our breath into crystals in the air that hang on your every word. Two children of the winter, you its fearless rush and me, its limping end, in like a lamb, March child: pale skinned and sparrow-hearted. If there is a lion in me he is dead or hibernating under the ivory vaults of my ribcage. But listen, inside a faint fluttering begins, a panic or a voice rising timidly in song with the smoke from your fire. The fabrics of our seasons weave together in this beautiful dream where my moon is waxing always, rising in your frozen winter sky.
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Nov 18, 2012
Nov 18, 2012 at 10:16 AM UTC
Lion-Heart and Lamb
*Her perfume weaves a hint of tempest. The blanket hibernating the illusive summers lights a spark of desire. He doesn’t open his eyes. The smoldering fire would bring him smell of cinders.*
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Feb 18, 2014
Feb 18, 2014 at 6:46 AM UTC
Desire
she was hooked on drugs and i was dealing with depression i became her new addiction and my *** was her fix she always confided in me but the four walls knew her better and one day i went hibernating she cut herself and befriended a noose which she used to degrade herself because the anchor was absent in her life
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Jun 14, 2015
Jun 14, 2015 at 3:48 PM UTC
***
Alone on this dark wet flagstone hiding not hibernating place no hedge to hug no worms to dig stunned torchlit searchlight target awaiting attack from hostiles spine chilling prying naturephiles.
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Sep 5, 2016
Sep 5, 2016 at 1:49 PM UTC
Hedgehog