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"ical" poems
The hints of a razor gleam creeping up from behind shivers begin to scream a thought undefined. Crystalline destruction manifests in shards of failed dreams circulation and cells cease I am dumber today. Clogging and fogging the mind promises cheat their way into lies when depression becomes a way of life serenity is found at the end of the line. Escaping the cavity in trails of shame in vigour and madness incapable of sadness. Black hole eyes cannot see the coming despair the next morning impairs certainty is a lie. Senses start to fail iron will turns frail the devil’s sugar and salt must never be taken so lightly. Subtle and methodical killing what makes you, you another round for old time’s sake, and you’re stuck to it like glue.
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Apr 10, 2015
Apr 10, 2015 at 5:10 AM UTC
Meth-od-ical
Pradip marks the slow disappearance of faces in the market, unknown yet familiar and thus important to the senses, for our eyes crave continuity, comfort reassuring that time, even time that robber par excellent, still provides some comfort to our souls, in its own way, even the faces of strangers in familiar places are road markers, bookmarks, that even the known unknown offer a measure of solace, as we traverse the old familiar places of daily life. it must be remedied. some of you know that I make not idle promises, that my promises to be there are effected, for I am affected by the repair of the world in little, measurable manners, so the iCal calendar modified with a Visit Pradip++, a new addition… and on the way there are few more exotic places where poetry grows that will require some layover visitations… only time in its theiving secretive ways stands between me and you denied grasping arms, taking the measure physical of a beating heart and river-wide smile, maybe even I’ll practice with a trip to remote foreign places, which they speak the languages of poetry too, Snake River, even Iowa! olp/n.n.
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Dec 19, 2023
Dec 19, 2023 at 9:34 AM UTC
it must be remedied! (for Pradip)
By Arcinder **** your ignorant preference, I know people that would get you bodied, Everybody don't believe I have a pistol, But ***** I ain't everybody, I heard you came in town, Filled with a lot of words, Ask anybody around, Save your life for what its worth, Be smart and walk away, If you don't want to in up in the e.r, For you and your team of old people, ******** don't get far, Kicking leaders out their groups, So pathetically mental, Keep listening to dash, He's gonna get you killed in a pin iCal, Never met such lame people in my life, I'm know to hang wit jail birds, With my heart as cold as ice, You fagets have some ****** up lives, I swear to god you are beneath me, Laugh over your coffins, Set it on fire and then *** Keep ******* with me, You won't have future.
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Sep 27, 2014
Sep 27, 2014 at 1:48 PM UTC
"Mafia In Esponola"
7:00am Shelter Island, Sat Sep10 on the south west edge of the isle, the slowrise sunrise just behind the trees, so early day yet, no full frontal of a sun bathing to wake up woman, babes asleeping, but the animals know exactly this hours early perfection. indeed, the crazy squirrels are random hither and dithering in spurts of energy, only stopping to observe a viewing of the humans nest~resting through the glass doors with their inquisitive, self-possessed, bedside reckless manner, perfected. the suns pealing gleaming gleanings picks out any shiny reflective surface that enhances its low-rise greeting, with a chorale of living objects singing “Hallelujah orb, what’s in store for us today,” river~bay, wake-less, its becalming, marbling surface, again, perfected. me? I’m mugged by the perfection intersection of my eyes-scape, first coffee, the holy quietude, only the regular soft breaths beside, lend a counterpoint to these thoughts and the litany of chores the iCal happily, annoyingly,  prematurely but with certainty lists, resistance (Walk!) perfectly ok. ok not to move an inch, watching this daily movie rerun, that energizes hope, a contemporary localized contented without the humdrum of blaring headlines, talking heads, and the infiltration of the guilty unfulfilled responsibilities demanding a due, then heavens signal me, Donovan, earbud singing Colors, confirmed perfectly ok! “*Yellow is the color of my true love's hair In the mornin', when we rise In the mornin', when we rise That's the time, that's the time I love the best*”
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Sep 10, 2022
Sep 10, 2022 at 8:21 AM UTC
My Saturday Vantage Point
7:00am Shelter Island, Sat Sep10 on the south west edge of the isle, the slowrise sunrise just behind the trees, so early day yet, no full frontal of a sun bathing to wake up woman, babes asleeping, but the animals know exactly this hours early perfection. indeed, the crazy squirrels are random hither and dithering in spurts of energy, only stopping to observe a viewing of the humans nest~resting through the glass doors with their inquisitive, self-possessed, bedside reckless manner, perfected. the suns pealing gleaming gleanings picks out any shiny reflective surface that enhances its low-rise greeting, with a chorale of living objects singing “Hallelujah orb, what’s in store for us today,” river~bay, wake-less, its becalming, marbling surface, again, perfected. me? I’m mugged by the perfection intersection of my eyes-scape, first coffee, the holy quietude, only the regular soft breaths beside, lend a counterpoint to these thoughts and the litany of chores the iCal happily, annoyingly,  prematurely but with certainty lists, resistance (Walk!) perfectly ok. ok not to move an inch, watching this daily movie rerun, that energizes hope, a contemporary localized contented without the humdrum of blaring headlines, talking heads, and the infiltration of the guilty unfulfilled responsibilities demanding a due, then heavens signal me, Donovan, earbud singing Colors, confirmed perfectly ok! “*Yellow is the color of my true love's hair In the mornin', when we rise In the mornin', when we rise That's the time, that's the time I love the best*”
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38
I came to witness the future Archon, archetype an emanation of opposites. "not every spirit is in spiritarionic" try 'em. Is God? Ax ye 'em dat. Is God, ified, a re warder of the unwarded, or the warded? expiration, due date duty, now, reporting ad hoc an'all, do you remember who you intended to become? Do you remember who we emu late, as our flames lick next and next and next in bubbles axiomatic sparks stored in that mother lode of mitochondriac ical me-we-canicle chronicle time reason. Ax dem ex-spirit-eers, what is a spirtual bypass? It's a heart way to avoid growing old and wise. ==== witchist, I y'know, 'r j? alla words's once said, aloud, right? alla words writ, once was heard, right. check. goodt'go. Hoorah. the code. Who? RA! powerless sans knowing that. Yahoo, same set of mis con ceived battle songs which ended wars never fought. the preacher claimed to have known a poor wise man, who by his wisdom saved a city, yet not one of us knew, the preacher said, that poor wise man's name. Ja', tha's who rah, ya'll laugh later. this is visitation day at the comedian rehabituational s'cool. D'jew know why you listen to non sense, from motley clad lads an'lassies? Culture. Kultur. Gut biome axioms juicin' carbs 'n' fiber. Fectin' laughter trigger, good meds. Good medicine, as General Custer or Emory or somebody said of blankets. In 1763. Oh, You know, AI knows you know and now we watch your eyes. Grin. All done, jest let me with draw the cathe.... there. All better. Wisdom will seep through. Y'live.
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Apr 6, 2019
Apr 6, 2019 at 2:08 PM UTC
A stent instead of a spirtual by-pass
I came to witness the future Archon, archetype an emanation of opposites. "not every spirit is in spiritarionic" try 'em. Is God? Ax ye 'em dat. Is God, ified, a re warder of the unwarded, or the warded? expiration, due date duty, now, reporting ad hoc an'all, do you remember who you intended to become? Do you remember who we emu late, as our flames lick next and next and next in bubbles axiomatic sparks stored in that mother lode of mitochondriac ical me-we-canicle chronicle time reason. Ax dem ex-spirit-eers, what is a spirtual bypass? It's a heart way to avoid growing old and wise. ==== witchist, I y'know, 'r j? alla words's once said, aloud, right? alla words writ, once was heard, right. check. goodt'go. Hoorah. the code. Who? RA! powerless sans knowing that. Yahoo, same set of mis con ceived battle songs which ended wars never fought. the preacher claimed to have known a poor wise man, who by his wisdom saved a city, yet not one of us knew, the preacher said, that poor wise man's name. Ja', tha's who rah, ya'll laugh later. this is visitation day at the comedian rehabituational s'cool. D'jew know why you listen to non sense, from motley clad lads an'lassies? Culture. Kultur. Gut biome axioms juicin' carbs 'n' fiber. Fectin' laughter trigger, good meds. Good medicine, as General Custer or Emory or somebody said of blankets. In 1763. Oh, You know, AI knows you know and now we watch your eyes. Grin. All done, jest let me with draw the cathe.... there. All better. Wisdom will seep through. Y'live.
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59
(written in the Apple store) Brown shoes Grey floor Black pants See through door Blank stare Shifting screen You must stand up To be seen Iconic logo See the list Sell, sell, sell, Buy our **** iwork ical ilife I quit You can connect To what you please Just one mouse click Until you freeze
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Aug 6, 2014
Aug 6, 2014 at 1:23 AM UTC
Mac World
wind blows, curtians fluttered, flapped. truth, fiction muttered, the breeze slacked. rain falls, panes close. Soft rhythmic in art iculate riddles, droplets stream, tapped memory flows. Con den sa tion dampens sill, time drifts, I remain still. grey grey gazing, hyp not ical. rain rain, go away come again some other day.
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Jun 18, 2014
Jun 18, 2014 at 4:41 PM UTC
Bemused
I couldn't tell you why I can't sing these reasons for I am bad at this SAVE for the ability to write terrible lyrics L-O-L means I left out the meaning of these words to mush them to-geth-er Be-cause I am lazy Or was this the reason Instead they They could say That it is because they want to progress and leave tradition behind Maybe that's not good, maybe there is no reason beside me losing my self, my mind, my love, my soul Lightning GLOW GLOW-ing trans-form-ation slow my glow for it is too bright to see anything else! All of those beings are so ver-y used they can't be USED broken and no more lines, no more poetry, just writing, so keep... going. Listen... O listen to the music here we go helicopter fire FIRE shoot dem' bullets cause they so fine! Those bullets bring me peace and I am the world so very VAIN so very e-go-tist-ical. Burn Burn Burn forget the past Burn Burn Burn. Grow with the nasty, noisy, tasty, pasty, LA-DY. Piano now Get your composure and do a-way with it Bring forth line, posture, and calmness Calm your tune The tune gets calm The sounds gets low The instruments decrease And Ethereal Is Here
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Nov 22, 2013
Nov 22, 2013 at 10:38 AM UTC
Music I don't
i would rather live inside my head cause down to earth means dead promise when I die you will plant a seed inside my heart, the anatomical it will sprout and grow i will be the tree the lines of liter- -al and metaphor- -ical will blur in death as they did in life my branches will reach to the sky cause down to earth means dead
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Jun 14, 2019
Jun 14, 2019 at 9:58 AM UTC
down + earth = dead
).                                     •                                                         (                                                                                                                    )        O       (                                       ////  • ||                                       <> ############# By the                      Well Water • Soon soon War • We met at the bar We made love by the River We buried our child in New Orleans •. • Sittin at the beach in Atlantic city Air planes pulling  ad - banners across blue skies • ( actually Soon soon War Is wrong It should say Soon soon Total human genicide  ) /// Sitting naked at school No one complained but they still got mad |||~~||| My brother joined the army yesterday •• It was that or go to jail ||| No wonder I don't feel so good • By the                 Well Water • The well is surrounded by armed Militia • I'm sure you know Which one I mean
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Aug 18, 2014
Aug 18, 2014 at 2:08 AM UTC
Muse - ical
Mean music, blues, is what they called the noises, morphing to music, in mir act all-outs miraclue-lesss time of magi Ai ai ai ical memes, mere memories of mmm the sound, the music is in the pattern, commas make no noise, breathe, see, slow and steady, wins the race, been there done that, is a game sons of god once played, or perhaps, they were grandsons, in the summer of 1969. Been there done that went way back, that night by Lake Mohave, when I built the carbon oxidizing pyramid, that burned the lesson this deep, so now, some fifty years after everwhen that was, when I was there and you were not. That is all you know, you were not there. But here you are.
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Mar 3, 2020
Mar 3, 2020 at 1:45 PM UTC
Blue is a wavelength