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"hyaline" poems
A nascent society gluttonously feeds on the palingenesis of hyaline paragons forged by stolid and archaic eremites. A whilom friendship leaks a susurrus of tristful regret, while pernicious ***** maunder puerile attacks on munificent intellectuals who only wish to augment risible souls and divagate from vertiginous roads too often traveled. Such a chimerical respect for tradition is too rigid to be broken alone.
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Jan 13, 2011
Jan 13, 2011 at 3:09 PM UTC
Untitled
A nascent society gluttonously feeds on the palingenesis of hyaline paragons forged by stolid and archaic eremites. A whilom friendship leaks a susurrus of tristful regret, while pernicious ***** maunder puerile attacks on munificent intellectuals who only wish to augment risible souls and divagate from vertiginous roads too often traveled. Such a chimerical respect for tradition is too rigid to be broken alone.
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Jan 13, 2011
Jan 13, 2011 at 3:06 PM UTC
Yesterday's Truth
This quiet night is too pure, And the envious one is about To sow the seed of jubilation, Evil has overtaking me, And my love one is about to Bleed the tears of contempt, The struggle is real, And the jealous one is about to coat The motion portrait of euphoria, Why was this price not accepted Before my first moan? This breathless peace cannot be the Place where my heart calls home, Oh life, spite my weightless star Over the southern hyaline, I cannot not believe that my inept Name is about to ration the little Palmwine with the prelate ancestors, How long will my wife’s Womb continue to yowl? Fate could not even wait For my fondness to breathe my sun, Beat the overt drums of time And give me a *** of warm water, For my blank soul has no other Value except endurance and rejection, Blow the covert horn of endless time And let me ride over dawn and dusk’ For my greatest traitor has come To hint me of my beholder’s score, My sacred cloud waves are now Pregnant with dry rain of gold dust, What have I done to Wound my own ghost? I have nothing more To sacrifice except my morrow, Alight my irrevocable paean at the Potent door of my inescapable darkness And let the Gods take possession and audit My perfect price of ornate fragrance. © PRINCE NANA ANIN-AGYEI Email: [email protected]
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Apr 8, 2013
Apr 8, 2013 at 6:13 AM UTC
CONSUMMATION
Driving down an empty street Full of flashing lights Blasting country from the speakers And driving way too slow. Uncertainty in the mind As hands steer, misguided, Diamonds cutting at the corners As the heart feels crouched inside. ...I have never felt so alone.
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Oct 14, 2014
Oct 14, 2014 at 12:38 AM UTC
Hyaline
I want to debouch in open country, where maidens wear fine dresses, where debarrasing is new and the old is the opposite! Redisposistioning!!! I need a renewal, where none are cruel and none shall scorn me.. No false lovers to burn me, but to float on our own cloud nine! A well of wine.... Hyaline wings to rasp me in molecule air's, where people can care and give and forgive all in one seeming. An angelic meaning!!! Our horoscope's to guide our way, as god enchants and breaks the day, as in night time comes strange creatures!! Iconograph teachers!!! Candles to burn their wax, poor to live in mansions, and the rich to shacks , yet all are still so equal living as one!!! Idiomorphic suds!!! No inurbane gesture's, only our kudos to make preachers, from the divine and sovereign the high one calls us!! Lakefront musk!!! The landscape is marvelous in this place with no time, no watches, no keeping of minutes that don't matter, no heart to get shattered... No abuse, none battered!!!! Just landlords who grow all things naturally, as striking beasts, in primal form!!! Enwomb me envoy ive not seen, epatant dream, For when shall someone show me all I wrote?? False hopes? Or fatalist blur?
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May 10, 2015
May 10, 2015 at 6:58 PM UTC
debased,i need elevation..
Fluorescence taps the old barked cabin, flummery holds hand's with thickened butter, to be brother's of salted taste. Flummox civilians let plans go to waste, as hydracid's they've slithered to. Who's who? Hyaline force. For thine own porch is ****** in by thy thought's and huzza of goods! For the woods art there to freeith thou, but thine own self cut's them down as human pea-brain no ones!!! For someone is someone thine beast of emptied plaza..... Hurtless thou couldst be. But thou art stuck in dreams, as reality thou hath made a second hand smoke.....
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Jun 24, 2015
Jun 24, 2015 at 3:49 PM UTC
Fluorescence huzza
Idling in a wedding gown, white on white skin reflecting in its paleness the filth of what has been and what is to be. Slips of fabric tease hard lines of shoulder, a wispy, hyaline veil cascades in reverence about honeyed curls and through the curtain, his lashes flutter a boyish acquiesce. Fruit trees sprout on the petticoats of the billabong: desert figs and passionfruit and currants thick with black flesh who peel themselves back to tumble into his wide-open mouth. Tulle and silk bunch around his knees soaking in juices from the feast. Eyelids lower over two blissed out messy half-moons, while drool or puke or juice drivel down his chin in uneven, marbled strings.
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Jul 23, 2023
Jul 23, 2023 at 11:15 PM UTC
Bride
The light grew dimmer and the darkness encased her. For so long the darkness had been growing until now there was the merest glimmer of light up above. The silence echoed all around the deafening roar of words unspoken. Now all that remained were the sound of memories of laughter and joy long since gone. Up above flew the figure of a bird the most majestic bird she had ever seen. With wings of gold that reflected the sun and a glorious call that resonated around her. The brightest of lights shone down covering her in a veil of gold, Hyaline wings formed from her shoulders and feathers shrouded her flesh. She fluttered her wings and with an air of grace and beauty she reached up to the light and soared up through the air Over raging seas and lakes as blue as shimmering steel, through dense forests filled with the songs of their faithful inhabitants. High above the barren landscape of the desert, until she landed on the snow-capped peaks of the mountain tops. And all at once, she knew she was free.
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Dec 9, 2019
Dec 9, 2019 at 5:26 PM UTC
The Bird