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"ignition" poems
Communication is the key but my hands are shaking as I start the ignition -h.w.
0
Oct 22, 2014
Oct 22, 2014 at 12:37 PM UTC
Communicate (Introverted #1)
I want it so bad Never going to quit it Flip the switch and hit ignition Toss these hands I talk in all ten digits **** wishing - let me finish, Raw- dish it out the kitchen Saw- vision now they listen Off an opp and take position Never in my life did i think i'd make it Fight, take it Might bend to vice Been in sight, fend or die breaking God I know you hear my pain Twisted system call em' viens Wicked lifted off the reigns Vicious gifted follow flame Agh! I'm a savage, a beast Murdering beats, I read it and weep, God Looking to thee, God- never going to stop watch Put 'em em a lock box.. one shot So sorry, not the man you needed On my knees I don't believe em' Read between I'm not deceiving Split the means I mean Never in my life did i think i'd make it Fight, take it Might bend to vice Been in sight, fend or die breaking God I know you hear my pain Twisted system call em viens Wicked lifted off the reigns Vicious gifted follow flame Hope I can say something worth a **** Hope I can change something understand this Pressure pinning me down Picture myself under the ground Taking leaps and bounds Can i stand it be without Peaking then drown - **** it all Speaking my meaning - Hear me now Never in my life did i think i'd make it Fight, take it Might bend to vice Been in sight, fend or die breaking God I know you hear my pain Twisted system call em' viens Wicked lifted off the reigns Vicious gifted follow flame Agh why looking to me for something deep I can’t even feel emotion let that **** repeatin’ heat in motion seeking to be not broken Leave it to me, reach between lost omens Looking to feed the beast I’m hopin’ Ahead of my time I’m rapping these rhymes But go unnoticed Never in my life did i think i'd make it Fight, take it Might bend to vice Been in sight, fend or die breaking God I know you hear my pain Twisted system call em' viens Wicked lifted off the reigns Vicious gifted follow flame
0
Jul 26, 2018
Jul 26, 2018 at 5:29 PM UTC
Follow_Flame
I want it so bad Never going to quit it Flip the switch and hit ignition Toss these hands I talk in all ten digits **** wishing - let me finish, Raw- dish it out the kitchen Saw- vision now they listen Off an opp and take position Never in my life did i think i'd make it Fight, take it Might bend to vice Been in sight, fend or die breaking God I know you hear my pain Twisted system call em' viens Wicked lifted off the reigns Vicious gifted follow flame Agh! I'm a savage, a beast Murdering beats, I read it and weep, God Looking to thee, God- never going to stop watch Put 'em em a lock box.. one shot So sorry, not the man you needed On my knees I don't believe em' Read between I'm not deceiving Split the means I mean Never in my life did i think i'd make it Fight, take it Might bend to vice Been in sight, fend or die breaking God I know you hear my pain Twisted system call em viens Wicked lifted off the reigns Vicious gifted follow flame Hope I can say something worth a **** Hope I can change something understand this Pressure pinning me down Picture myself under the ground Taking leaps and bounds Can i stand it be without Peaking then drown - **** it all Speaking my meaning - Hear me now Never in my life did i think i'd make it Fight, take it Might bend to vice Been in sight, fend or die breaking God I know you hear my pain Twisted system call em' viens Wicked lifted off the reigns Vicious gifted follow flame Agh why looking to me for something deep I can’t even feel emotion let that **** repeatin’ heat in motion seeking to be not broken Leave it to me, reach between lost omens Looking to feed the beast I’m hopin’ Ahead of my time I’m rapping these rhymes But go unnoticed Never in my life did i think i'd make it Fight, take it Might bend to vice Been in sight, fend or die breaking God I know you hear my pain Twisted system call em' viens Wicked lifted off the reigns Vicious gifted follow flame
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64
the sounds are there, they come through walls right around the corner they're not visual, they're miserable and in need they're equal opportunity exhibitionists lovers of a family get together, taking everything in parasitic and aware, destitute and stuck but they're also there at the wrong time the wrong time for the person who's alone the wrong time for a person who's disconnected because they want to be enjoying peace and quiet alone by themselves in an old house with summer outside making its noises, crickets trees rustling under a jeweled sky, the pinnacle of up high breathing in the home air of cannibus, lotion and food being disturbed is far from a thought, but unavoidable simultaneously because the house has a strange history the basement floods, and the machinery kicks in the mind ponders as the constellations wander the nights grow and shrink, the body is dry, bone dry the shower is turned on, soap, shampoo lost in the mind on autopilot until the spine stiffens its without a doubt that I'm not alone now a minute ago i was the master of this house a minute ago I was naked in the hallway, smoking a cigar now I've been usurped and I just want to barricade myself in this house that I've live in for 15 years, now i beg for permission to stay just one more night I beg because how could I possibly fight It's my conscious or the pontius pilate I hope it's the former, because if not, blowout the pilot light There's little hope for re-ignition or stellar recognition
0
Mar 29, 2012
Mar 29, 2012 at 2:30 PM UTC
relaxing shower?
the sounds are there, they come through walls right around the corner they're not visual, they're miserable and in need they're equal opportunity exhibitionists lovers of a family get together, taking everything in parasitic and aware, destitute and stuck but they're also there at the wrong time the wrong time for the person who's alone the wrong time for a person who's disconnected because they want to be enjoying peace and quiet alone by themselves in an old house with summer outside making its noises, crickets trees rustling under a jeweled sky, the pinnacle of up high breathing in the home air of cannibus, lotion and food being disturbed is far from a thought, but unavoidable simultaneously because the house has a strange history the basement floods, and the machinery kicks in the mind ponders as the constellations wander the nights grow and shrink, the body is dry, bone dry the shower is turned on, soap, shampoo lost in the mind on autopilot until the spine stiffens its without a doubt that I'm not alone now a minute ago i was the master of this house a minute ago I was naked in the hallway, smoking a cigar now I've been usurped and I just want to barricade myself in this house that I've live in for 15 years, now i beg for permission to stay just one more night I beg because how could I possibly fight It's my conscious or the pontius pilate I hope it's the former, because if not, blowout the pilot light There's little hope for re-ignition or stellar recognition
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34
In the wildest place, my mouth stopped with stars, I came to the end of words; the parched mint, bitter paper plank where I lost my balance, on one foot teetering along that roadway where gold- flashing fireflies stand effortlessly on air to send their fragile signal out, every night a nocturne of one less til I and the last firefly danced alone in the wildest place sending our last ignition out to find our kind or else fall quiet and one with the wild that will neither be spelled nor known. ©joyannjones June 2023
0
Aug 17, 2025
Aug 17, 2025 at 9:32 AM UTC
Walking The Paper Plank
My heart hurts And so do my eyes And what's left of my brain And my legs ache It is if as I am running from who I am All the time. I love her so much, I cannot even explain how deep My love for her truly is. And I cannot imagine my life without her Because she truly is my light. But I can't help how afraid I am. I am not afraid of our beautiful relationship, But what our relationship might be if Someone-our school and/or parents- we're to find out. I can feel tension and anger and sadness swell up inside of my chest And all I want to do is to protect her. But how can I do that by hiding all of the time? We kissed openly yesterday by the lakefront And my God, I miss the way she looked under that sunset. I miss the way she tasted with that hint of salt in the air. I just miss being hers openly. Sometimes I ask myself and God, why am I gay? Is there no man who will ever perfectly complete me like She does? I honestly think not, she truly feels like the only one Who can know me better than I ever could. And does any mans lips feel any more truer than when her lips Are on mine? Everything about me in this moment is a fire that is burning. I am burning and raging against this door because I'm not sure how much longer I can be contained. I simply cannot live in secrecy but if I ever let this flame out then everything would burn. I love her so much and I simply cannot let this flame go because if I did, all hell would break loose and we would both be put to death in the worst manner possible. I just want to love her the way God meant for it to be, but how can I do that when everyone I've ever loved has told me it is wrong? That it is immoral and disgusting and a sin. I can't believe for a single second that our love could be a sin. Maybe we can't have children and maybe the way we make love is different from the way you do it, but in all honesty, is that what makes a relationship beautiful? I find the way she crinkles her nose to be enough to set a flame in my heart and the way she points her toes when swinging on swings to add to ignition and the way she smiles at me to keep me going forever. I love her so strongly and passionately that maybe I am crazy, but this love can certainly not be immoral. Why would He make me this way? Just to put me in hell? Did Satan indeed win my soul from the moment I was conceived and God just... gave up? No, I cannot believe this for a single second. He loves me and he loves her and he loves us and if you cannot understand how we have maintained this beautiful and loving relationship for so long while staying hidden it is because you do not see the effect that God has on us. I believe that he wants us together, not to eventually cause us pain. I hate lying, and I'm sure God can see it even more easily than my lovely girlfriend does, but maybe He lets me lie because he does not see any other way to let me be with my other half.
0
Oct 2, 2014
Oct 2, 2014 at 3:30 PM UTC
Gay Rant
My heart hurts And so do my eyes And what's left of my brain And my legs ache It is if as I am running from who I am All the time. I love her so much, I cannot even explain how deep My love for her truly is. And I cannot imagine my life without her Because she truly is my light. But I can't help how afraid I am. I am not afraid of our beautiful relationship, But what our relationship might be if Someone-our school and/or parents- we're to find out. I can feel tension and anger and sadness swell up inside of my chest And all I want to do is to protect her. But how can I do that by hiding all of the time? We kissed openly yesterday by the lakefront And my God, I miss the way she looked under that sunset. I miss the way she tasted with that hint of salt in the air. I just miss being hers openly. Sometimes I ask myself and God, why am I gay? Is there no man who will ever perfectly complete me like She does? I honestly think not, she truly feels like the only one Who can know me better than I ever could. And does any mans lips feel any more truer than when her lips Are on mine? Everything about me in this moment is a fire that is burning. I am burning and raging against this door because I'm not sure how much longer I can be contained. I simply cannot live in secrecy but if I ever let this flame out then everything would burn. I love her so much and I simply cannot let this flame go because if I did, all hell would break loose and we would both be put to death in the worst manner possible. I just want to love her the way God meant for it to be, but how can I do that when everyone I've ever loved has told me it is wrong? That it is immoral and disgusting and a sin. I can't believe for a single second that our love could be a sin. Maybe we can't have children and maybe the way we make love is different from the way you do it, but in all honesty, is that what makes a relationship beautiful? I find the way she crinkles her nose to be enough to set a flame in my heart and the way she points her toes when swinging on swings to add to ignition and the way she smiles at me to keep me going forever. I love her so strongly and passionately that maybe I am crazy, but this love can certainly not be immoral. Why would He make me this way? Just to put me in hell? Did Satan indeed win my soul from the moment I was conceived and God just... gave up? No, I cannot believe this for a single second. He loves me and he loves her and he loves us and if you cannot understand how we have maintained this beautiful and loving relationship for so long while staying hidden it is because you do not see the effect that God has on us. I believe that he wants us together, not to eventually cause us pain. I hate lying, and I'm sure God can see it even more easily than my lovely girlfriend does, but maybe He lets me lie because he does not see any other way to let me be with my other half.
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28
Your eyes are rough, warm, divine Close them, for a while   put out the fire in me. Together we are brittle, new, fools In heart, or my mind the warmth it still lingers. But when we reach the end I'll close mine too; then we can be beautiful.
0
Jun 29, 2017
Jun 29, 2017 at 9:25 AM UTC
ignition burns
We women fold linen some believe we live solely in the kitchen we are a force of nature, we nurture children, we are driven, we kiss things better, we matter. We women hold opinions we women mould opinions, where else but in the kitchen, nurturing, washing, listening, dishing wisdom with love. We women are cloaked in many roles, politician, clinician, villain, lover, mother, cook smothering all under our cloak. We women suffer more due to our nature, we're also tougher than a right hook! Duck next time women are driven to anger. We women are the ignition of life, love and understanding we go by many names, Mother, sister, aunt, wife and nan. Our own name lost to time. Would I want to be a man? No. We women are fruition, we are magicians, we are are giants in our own right.
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Apr 25, 2014
Apr 25, 2014 at 1:38 PM UTC
Women
Once, we drove my pick-up into outer space. I swear, it's true, we literally left the planet. O sure, we were high on alcohol, had to crawl to the truck for ignition. But regardless, think of how far we drove, to Neptune & back, twice before sunrise.
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May 28, 2014
May 28, 2014 at 5:51 AM UTC
Space Trucking Before Sunrise
Your eyes ignite the looming and beautiful night sky
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Jun 18, 2014
Jun 18, 2014 at 7:40 PM UTC
Ignition (10w)
Sleeping someone somewhere Dreams of drinking daises Laying lucid loving lavender Adapting admiration of the ages Koala kites, kaleidoscope cries Bubbles blowing bare beauty Riding radiance rapidly realizing Forsaken focus freeing form Soaring sensation seeps synchronicity Dripping differences deranged Rearranged ripples randomly react Enacting endorphins equally engaging Induced ignition infinitely intact Pulsating precision purpose full pact
0
Oct 19, 2012
Oct 19, 2012 at 4:52 AM UTC
Yonder yarn
The Syrian process is a serial problem When the disenfranchised Cause a landslide Of historical hatred The key that ignites Business and commerce Wildfire hearts And boiling skin The harsh outbreak of deadly cholera The blockade of the forceful armada The coalition forces Run wild like horses The bombs keep falling The people cry The engine keeps stalling The car dies The white phosphorus Brought by the white prosperous Can burn to the bone And wounds can ignite up to three days later But the people of Raqqa Are used to reigniting scars They're used to searing flesh That melts like tar Where this will go No one knows how far Machines must be sustained Hearts will be untamed Lives constantly rearranged A human rights activist attempts to send a report What he's witnessed in Raqqa Injustices; perceived and objective But Hellfire Turns the Internet cafe Into a senseless violence display The dirt, blood, and bodies Mixed and spread like the art That was ignored to lead to this quagmire Whether this calamity started At the Melian dialogue Or a market diagram Or a martyr's diatribe What we need now is an m.d. to suture the wounds But who will save us? When noble protectors are blown up And the reigniting scars scorch the hands that heal
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Jun 12, 2017
Jun 12, 2017 at 7:48 PM UTC
Ignition
Hungry filthy eyes From every corner It spies Lustful desire ignition Hardly any blinks Sparks temptation The growth of hunger On youthful body Deludes my anger It hunts upon everyone Especially the feminines Carrying a gun Streets pollute such eyes Some cross, some straight Most full with lies Each day my eye meets Such perverts With viciously lustrous greets... ©sim
0
Nov 4, 2017
Nov 4, 2017 at 4:17 PM UTC
Hungry Eyes
you hurt like ache and adderall and arnica you hurt like bruises and battle scars and broken bones you hurt like cuts and ******* and countryside you hurt like death and destruction and die-hard you hurt like electricity and emergency rooms and edit-undo you hurt like **** you's and fire and fallen trees you hurt like garbage cans and gonorrhea and gang **** you hurt like hell and holes in the road and heartache you hurt like israel and illness and ignition fumes you hurt like jaundice and jugular veins and jack in the box you hurt like karma and kissing and kerosine lamps you hurt like lightning and love and literary terms you hurt like mother and mary and moses you hurt like nakedness and nosebleeds and nervous breakdowns you hurt like oil spills and old yeller and oral quizzes you hurt like parkinson's and parties and panic you hurt like queens and questions and quantum physics you hurt like rogaine and roses and rope burn you hurt like solar power and stomach aches and *** you hurt like teeth cleanings and tar and tobacco you hurt like ulcers and underwear and unrequited love you hurt like viruses and venus fly traps and vapor rub you hurt like warning signs and weight gain and war you hurt like x-rays and x marks the spot and xoxo you hurt like your mom and your dad and you you hurt like zig zags and zero and zip ties (a.m.c.)
0
May 10, 2014
May 10, 2014 at 2:05 PM UTC
{you hurt like the alphabet}
A flame of Holy ordination and ignition, shall not soon burn out and falter. This flame though a wick it surely hath, will not expire, tho' should you cover it all its bright light shall fade, let this light beam boldly into shadows and all shall tremble and fear. This flame of Holy ordination lit with the softest touch, grows brighter and fiercer, tho' not in anger or hate, but passion, and should this flame lose that bright passion then I surely would weep, and prostrate myself in search of re-ignition, for this flame is better for five minutes than darkness eternity in darkness, I earnestly seek this flame.
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Jan 31, 2012
Jan 31, 2012 at 10:21 PM UTC
Flame.
Did you know that if you leave your car in your driveway, With the keys in the ignition, And someone sits down in the front seat like they own it, and drives away, You are the one who is liable for theft? They can drive that sucker to the coast. They can burn the upholstery with their cigarettes. They can bring their friends into the back seat, and fill the compartments with their refuse, and **** and they can leave it ruined in front of your house, or crushed into the median on the highway, or left in disconnected pieces under an overpass. It will be called, “unauthorized use of a vehicle.” It will be called a “misdemeanor.” But you left the car running. Weren't you kind of asking for it to happen? They said, This, (Gesturing to the skirt which fell to two inches above my kneecap), Is like that. If I walk outside of my house in jeans and a t-shirt, or a long dress with thin straps, Or with my chin tilted out, Or with long eyelashes, Or with full lips, Or with my hips swaying when I walk, It's like I left the car running. It's like I invited them to force their bodies into the front seat. In their minds, or with their hands, or with their lips to anyone who would listen to them. Little girls in leotards become like unlocked car doors; Where men can burn their cigarettes into their skin, Or stick their fingers in In plain view of their parents, And told to let it happen, Quietly. It isn't theft, It's “a medical examination.” What did they expect? It isn't a theft. She was just as guilty of negligence. It isn't really a felony. It's not THAT BAD. (Stop being so dramatic.) It's the unauthorized use of your body, for a time, or one night, or every time you close your eyes for the rest of your life, Sure- But you left the car running.
0
May 22, 2018
May 22, 2018 at 1:25 PM UTC
Unlocked car doors
Did you know that if you leave your car in your driveway, With the keys in the ignition, And someone sits down in the front seat like they own it, and drives away, You are the one who is liable for theft? They can drive that sucker to the coast. They can burn the upholstery with their cigarettes. They can bring their friends into the back seat, and fill the compartments with their refuse, and **** and they can leave it ruined in front of your house, or crushed into the median on the highway, or left in disconnected pieces under an overpass. It will be called, “unauthorized use of a vehicle.” It will be called a “misdemeanor.” But you left the car running. Weren't you kind of asking for it to happen? They said, This, (Gesturing to the skirt which fell to two inches above my kneecap), Is like that. If I walk outside of my house in jeans and a t-shirt, or a long dress with thin straps, Or with my chin tilted out, Or with long eyelashes, Or with full lips, Or with my hips swaying when I walk, It's like I left the car running. It's like I invited them to force their bodies into the front seat. In their minds, or with their hands, or with their lips to anyone who would listen to them. Little girls in leotards become like unlocked car doors; Where men can burn their cigarettes into their skin, Or stick their fingers in In plain view of their parents, And told to let it happen, Quietly. It isn't theft, It's “a medical examination.” What did they expect? It isn't a theft. She was just as guilty of negligence. It isn't really a felony. It's not THAT BAD. (Stop being so dramatic.) It's the unauthorized use of your body, for a time, or one night, or every time you close your eyes for the rest of your life, Sure- But you left the car running.
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40
I am not going to lie anymore, it is easy to write about you. It is a gut instinct. It is muscle memory. I kept the letters, the postcards. The first one you sent is in bad shape; folded edges, crumpled body. I almost set it on fire twelve times. You don't understand how every night I stand outside looking at the stars realizing that we can probably never see them at the same time. There is nothing poetic about how we feed off of eachother. There is nothing healthy about holding on to this. But all I know is that when I talk to someone, I almost always say I'm sorry as a greeting. Because nothing I ever say will be pretty anymore, I have a serpent tongue when you're gone away. And I'm sorry that they're not you. I will still get your words on me. I will hold on to the pain of the ink seeping into my skin. Forever doesn't have a fighting chance against the chokehold grip you have on my thoughts. Instead of this train of thought, paper bodies. Ignition. Fire. Think of me when the candle goes out. Think of me when you're drunk again. Instead of this poem, broken bottles. Instead of this poem: Blue sheets. White pillows. Your hair was never this color before. Your poems were never about me. Slam poetry in the way you threw my necklace in the river. Find me waiting at the window for you to let me in. You left the bottle open, it smells like whiskey in here. Blue sheets but yellow flecks of sunlight and candlelight and streetlight. The light has almost disappeared since you went away. Instead of this poem: Come back. Stay away. I am fluent in ******* things up. Fire. Ignition. Paper body. Think of me when the candle goes out.
0
Apr 26, 2014
Apr 26, 2014 at 8:54 PM UTC
Muscle Memory
I am not going to lie anymore, it is easy to write about you. It is a gut instinct. It is muscle memory. I kept the letters, the postcards. The first one you sent is in bad shape; folded edges, crumpled body. I almost set it on fire twelve times. You don't understand how every night I stand outside looking at the stars realizing that we can probably never see them at the same time. There is nothing poetic about how we feed off of eachother. There is nothing healthy about holding on to this. But all I know is that when I talk to someone, I almost always say I'm sorry as a greeting. Because nothing I ever say will be pretty anymore, I have a serpent tongue when you're gone away. And I'm sorry that they're not you. I will still get your words on me. I will hold on to the pain of the ink seeping into my skin. Forever doesn't have a fighting chance against the chokehold grip you have on my thoughts. Instead of this train of thought, paper bodies. Ignition. Fire. Think of me when the candle goes out. Think of me when you're drunk again. Instead of this poem, broken bottles. Instead of this poem: Blue sheets. White pillows. Your hair was never this color before. Your poems were never about me. Slam poetry in the way you threw my necklace in the river. Find me waiting at the window for you to let me in. You left the bottle open, it smells like whiskey in here. Blue sheets but yellow flecks of sunlight and candlelight and streetlight. The light has almost disappeared since you went away. Instead of this poem: Come back. Stay away. I am fluent in ******* things up. Fire. Ignition. Paper body. Think of me when the candle goes out.
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35
Jealousy & greed setting fire to the wind directing humanity ever closer to sin
0
Apr 5, 2019
Apr 5, 2019 at 3:21 PM UTC
Ignition
I*t is unknown that gets me of this A veil, a world beyond exists Life and reel both Shows the stills of the worst But no more Could mean way more In ways no one will understand About what this i*s A r*elief to all unending pain A permanent erase to all thoughts in brain harsh reality to those still living The real problem is in breathing Liberation and freedom Aren't for the living Part of brave around The chances are faint*. A f*orever is a promise Not to believe in Wonder to eyes All good lies Simple truth Is too good for us Not edible enough God don't need us*. N*ot here not there Only best get vacancy Heaven is housefull Seven hells down The burns and fiery thirst don't stop Ignition on You were bad When you had the chance*.
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Apr 17, 2019
Apr 17, 2019 at 1:52 PM UTC
No more
The cannibal is thirsty for a flesh martini Dabs of salt here and there On tongue and ocean groin The ********* is hungry To be the tender olive Eaten very slowly Lick the ****** pleasures Of each other's knife kiss Maternal affections pouring open by God's rage They are shelter Ignition To each other's demons wonderfully delicious as frosting or whipped cream They are rare fruit, indeed What are the odds of them finding each other? Just goes to show, my lonely lovers There's someone for everyone You too Will find Your soul mate Someday just as the blood Will eventually Drip from the cannibal's smiling mouth Oh my love, you are my yummy chicken bone dipped in your sauce "Ahhhhh...." he says "This must be love."
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Mar 27, 2013
Mar 27, 2013 at 1:53 PM UTC
Cannibal Love
Headless chickens running aimless toward the almighty dollar Blindly staring at the knife"s stainless steel amidst all the squaller My thirsty soul argues against my numb skull to hold a thorough audition They lewdly feud about potential candidates accrued to search for recognition They conclude on a suspicion they mutually feared as a result of blind ambition Search preludes the admission, that I found my dream car with no keys for ignition Don"t question authority especially when it's the majority Everyone knows the world is flat and let's just leave it at that I bought water from you now I have ice to sell I have a great story but no one worthy to tell Hindsight should really be at least twenty fifteen Because to admit we just don"t know is too obscene? Blissful ignorance"s repugnant scent wafting through the cave Mindless sheople"s chainlinked brains all dancing at the rave Fire flickering Shadow puppets tastefully riding the next wave Puppeteer wizard behind the curtain telling them how to behave Misaligned redcoated frontline soldiers falsely labeled as brave Life"s ironic conundrum puzzle, choosing which children to save Diseased cement steadily drying in a world ever ready to pave Hungrier than I"ve ever been, yet sickly devoid of things to crave
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Oct 9, 2012
Oct 9, 2012 at 5:06 AM UTC
Worth...less
the tick in the clock the chatter of an ignition dishes clanking Mr. Everywhere nowhere to be seen the lungs don't show the lifetime spent escaping times are cold but it's too hot in the kitchen make me a transient drifter with a handkerchief on a stick eating an apple in a boxcar making it's way through cold night make me disappear a wrangler an outlaw delete my typos and move me to the recycling bin
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Nov 8, 2013
Nov 8, 2013 at 10:15 PM UTC
recycle me
Reaching out for what delivers its existence The thirsty tree extends its limbs further to the sun An encounter craved, but still valuing its bestowment Forever longing anxiously for that connection The summer winds carrying this hopeful firefly         Emitting the lonely light that calls out for another Releasing these signals in hopes of discovering you Again a flicker and finally the mate is matched Sprinting to the sea, the relentless river runs Passionately carving its way through the slighted landscape Obviously enraptured by its desirous charge Awaiting the second its frenzied rush reaches home Like the sun now churning our eager energy Overthrowing senses with this rampantly raging need Overwhelming magnetism lures us toward temptation Inescapably mesmerized by this sensation Profound in nature, driven by this timeless dance Sophisticatedly conjoining into fulfillment A base for these unbridled electrical impulses The quintessence of our fusion now realized We are the union of two wandering forces Ignition progresses affectionate meditations Quietly absorbing the synthesizing of segments Once unrelated, now entangled eternally
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Nov 2, 2012
Nov 2, 2012 at 2:17 PM UTC
The Natural Progression
The night becomes you - hair coiffed in fashion illuminated eyes reveal attraction, the scent of body oil pervasive, ambient music evolves persuasive savory rhetoric, cabernet erodes my inhibition no contrition, turn the ignition. The night becomes you - you wear it well   an amalgam, ardor and insouciance - redefining glamour, ephemeral moments dial down the sunlight, I am slain - voice and accent weave their spell; black dust coat, white hat, a pair of posh boots they live to tell. The night becomes you rhyme scheme -  lyrical poetry sophisticated venue, table for two ensconced, the leather lounge, similitude within difference; undulation - cadences of counterpoint - poise and peril of duality we inhabit the floor. Postprandial, conversation extempore; machinations of intoxicating discourse, I could drink your words - artistic milieu- beguiling imagery, sonant susurrations penetrate my being. The night becomes you - theoretical locutions phrasing depth and humor, undiluted amour, tensions resolve frame by frame, solidify the affair and validate the rumor subsumed in sequence, pulsating, igniting the sapid interior flame silver screen ending, effusive reviews two hearts collide and form one; the cherub's arrow finds its aim. ©2008 & 2011 W.S. Warner
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Sep 22, 2011
Sep 22, 2011 at 10:34 PM UTC
The Night Becomes You
If I could show you               how it would be                     if freedom were                             in our palms                    how it would feel to                   be released,                  a caged dove        set into the cooling swiftness of air If I could dry your tears and make you understand that this will be       more than ok because happiness is right around the corner just a little faith yes just a little belief in the mysterious ,           unknown workings The Universe has my back and if it has mine, I have yours there is not one moment that you will see this back turned or face hidden my arms are meant to enfold you my calm to steady you                Now                         it feels like                                      being stuck                                    in a wheel                         round and round                 options limited but once the break is made I will be drifting up my heart that dove for I cannot let her die (if I die a part of you dies, too) and once you see me spin her off into the light the grace of heaven allowing me to keep my own ignition burning you know you will have me until the depths of sky and into the wilds of our    tender forever
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May 26, 2017
May 26, 2017 at 7:58 PM UTC
the wilds of forever
If I could show you               how it would be                     if freedom were                             in our palms                    how it would feel to                   be released,                  a caged dove        set into the cooling swiftness of air If I could dry your tears and make you understand that this will be       more than ok because happiness is right around the corner just a little faith yes just a little belief in the mysterious ,           unknown workings The Universe has my back and if it has mine, I have yours there is not one moment that you will see this back turned or face hidden my arms are meant to enfold you my calm to steady you                Now                         it feels like                                      being stuck                                    in a wheel                         round and round                 options limited but once the break is made I will be drifting up my heart that dove for I cannot let her die (if I die a part of you dies, too) and once you see me spin her off into the light the grace of heaven allowing me to keep my own ignition burning you know you will have me until the depths of sky and into the wilds of our    tender forever
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