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"immeasurable" poems
except that you have attached your parfumed, par~col~odored exhalations into our shared airs, with uniqued fumes,    thy airy essences to thine own chosen words, in combines never before seen or heard, but worn by you, draped from chains abound your neck, dripping from thy tongue, dropping from thine eyes, leaking from your pores, from fingers in rose gold adorning rings bright shining so more, so unique, impossible to misidentify as anything anybody any anything, but yours, yours…yours,      but not belabor this fact basic, disguise your name, hide your fame, make your locale, somewhere in the unreachable, unreal, multiverse, none the less, and allthemore, cannot escape, the ultimate reality, when first you press that keyed SEND, you have parted, done with, an immeasurable small but grandeured piece of your unique self, if that makes you anxious, here my eyes crinkle sympathetically, am please to blurt this major alert: u have nothing to fear, too late, too late, you are now made, part and particle, past participle futured history in the particulared, longest continuum on this tiny, tiny planet oh well, just thought you'd like to know, despite your guises, your are now 100 per cent, immutable ^ 10/5/25 staying alive
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Oct 3, 2025
Oct 3, 2025 at 8:23 PM UTC
Immutable: you 🫵...have nothing to be anxious about 👍
*be ever gentle to thy words treat them, your tools, well, cleansing and protecting, wrapping them in cloths of chamois and moleskin that they may be well conditioned and pour forth with a temperament clear and viscous, reflecting their high honors and a noble lineage, they are well-intentioned to exist far longer than your meager temporal life, upon this ever hasty, ever perpetual, orbit give them all respect, their fair due, they are treasure immeasurable, for which you have been granted guardianship, custody received from others to be gifted onwards, yours, but for the duration so oft we trifle words, expel them from the country of our body, without passport and earnestness, as if they were the cheapest of footnote filler, day tourists, to be treated as leavings, refuse for daily discardation, barely noting their fast comings and faster disappearance, but leaving not, a mark of distinction more truffle than trifle, find them in the dark forest of your life, use them sparingly, just for soaring, take them from the roots of your trees, shave them with a paring knife, counts them in bites and measure them in grams, even in grains, for words are the seasoning of our lives, agent provacateurs that can modify the moment, bringing out to the fore the flavor of the underlying speak them slow and distinct, for they arrive slow to you, a trickling of refugees for your sheltering, harbor them as full companions, protected by natural law, provision them well, prepared and ever ready for a quick departure, moor them at the embarcadero, for the next restless leg of endlessness, which they themselves will inform you will last longer than eternity, long after there are no humans to speak them*
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Oct 10, 2015
Oct 10, 2015 at 6:01 PM UTC
oh poet! be ever gentle to thy words...
*be ever gentle to thy words treat them, your tools, well, cleansing and protecting, wrapping them in cloths of chamois and moleskin that they may be well conditioned and pour forth with a temperament clear and viscous, reflecting their high honors and a noble lineage, they are well-intentioned to exist far longer than your meager temporal life, upon this ever hasty, ever perpetual, orbit give them all respect, their fair due, they are treasure immeasurable, for which you have been granted guardianship, custody received from others to be gifted onwards, yours, but for the duration so oft we trifle words, expel them from the country of our body, without passport and earnestness, as if they were the cheapest of footnote filler, day tourists, to be treated as leavings, refuse for daily discardation, barely noting their fast comings and faster disappearance, but leaving not, a mark of distinction more truffle than trifle, find them in the dark forest of your life, use them sparingly, just for soaring, take them from the roots of your trees, shave them with a paring knife, counts them in bites and measure them in grams, even in grains, for words are the seasoning of our lives, agent provacateurs that can modify the moment, bringing out to the fore the flavor of the underlying speak them slow and distinct, for they arrive slow to you, a trickling of refugees for your sheltering, harbor them as full companions, protected by natural law, provision them well, prepared and ever ready for a quick departure, moor them at the embarcadero, for the next restless leg of endlessness, which they themselves will inform you will last longer than eternity, long after there are no humans to speak them*
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46
You once asked me that question and all I could answer was, "I just love you." My answer to your question might seem so simple, but believe me when I say it's more complex than that. My love for you is too vast, there's no amount that can measure it. It is by itself indescribable, no words can do it justice. I would say that you're my whole universe, but to me you're more than just an immense number of galaxies. I would say that I love you to infinity, but I know that I love you more than what's beyond the infinite. I would say that I could love you for eternity, but to me even eternity seems like a short period of time. I could write this for as long as I want, but I know that this won't even be enough to explain my love. So dear, if you ever ask me again of how much I love you, know that my answer would still stay the same. Within those four words my love remains indefinable. Within those four words my love remains immeasurable. "I just love you" and that is all I can say.
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Aug 14, 2017
Aug 14, 2017 at 3:42 PM UTC
"How much do you love me?"
Now I ask you to join me Now you celebrate Not being me. Not being you Only Us for the great UN load! DIS arm! EN large! OUT side! Some steps I will take Be my guest Pull your anchor Out of the lake We're In the room In the building In the crowded city In the country with thousands of cities The country shares the continent with an enemy nation The two rivals are carried round and round by the Earth's endless rotation The Earth obeys the master’s magnetic line, burning since uncountable clock time The sun is blind to his insignificance too, ignoring billions of other star mates, it can’t see through Immeasurable it seems, magnifying! All of them such tiny little parts in one of Miss Milky’s arms Some light years away there they are: Pinwheel, Cartwheel, Black Eye, Andromeda and Cigar Unmeasurable it seems, humongous! All of them such a fading little part of the cosmos There you are Floating from a distance Feel the empty ground Drink from the fountain of existence Still blind to insignificance? Still convinced about the rightness of imposed beliefs? Still judging others’ defects according to our pretentious and vain mind? Still punching away the different, protecting the mold? Still reinforcing illusory antagonism and insignia? Still seeing only two sides? Still holding to the pride? Still In the ******* room Am I? Are you? Let's try it again
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Mar 17, 2015
Mar 17, 2015 at 5:21 PM UTC
Ego deconstruction
She was wild like skinny dipping at midnight, stars watching overhead and falling in love with moonlight. The way it lay upon her skin made the ocean envious of her depths within and sometimes between us. She was my sister, not in blood but in orbit. A Venus to my Earth, forged from the same collapsing star and if the universe was in fact to be infinite then this moment would happen again, and again, and again an immeasurable number of times. I found comfort in this thought, knowing though our existence was meaningless, it was still full of feeling, and this feeling, right now, it insisted on existing forever.
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Mar 11, 2016
Mar 11, 2016 at 6:56 AM UTC
She Was Wild
Cold now. Close to the edge. Almost unbearable. Clouds bunch up and boil down from the north of the white bear. This tree-splitting morning I dream of his fat tracks, the lifesaving suet. I think of summer with its luminous fruit, blossoms rounding to berries, leaves, handfuls of grain. Maybe what cold is, is the time we measure the love we have always had, secretly, for our own bones, the hard knife-edged love for the warm river of the I, beyond all else; maybe that is what it means the beauty of the blue shark cruising toward the tumbling seals. In the season of snow, in the immeasurable cold, we grow cruel but honest; we keep ourselves alive, if we can, taking one after another the necessary bodies of others, the many crushed red flowers.
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17.4k
Cold Poem
To the girls who are secretly so broken You WILL be alright I know you have scars on your soul Maybe your heart Possibly your wrists None of this is your fault And even if you think it is Let it go Not that you can, that easily But try I know you are broken I know you're not okay Especially when people ask how you are and you answer "I'm fine" When what you really mean is "I'm alive" But what do you really care about your own survival anymore Well I just want you to know There is beauty in broken glass And to me There is immeasurable beauty In broken girls So don't you ever forget You cannot be defined by pain You're too beautiful for that Stay strong, broken girl Nothing is ever really broken
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Dec 24, 2014
Dec 24, 2014 at 10:11 AM UTC
To the girls who are secretly so broken
I. the emperor sleeps in a palace of porphyry which was a million years building he takes the air in a howdah of jasper beneath saffron umbrellas upon an elephant twelve foot high behind whose ear sits always a crowned king twir- ling an ankus of ebony the fountains of the emperor’s palace run sunlight and moonlight and the emperor’s elephant is a thousand years old the harem of the emperor is carpeted with gold cloth from the ceiling(one diamond timid with nesting incense) fifty marble pillars slipped from immeasurable height,fall,fifty,silent in the incense is tangled a cool moon there are thrice-three-hundred doors carven of chalcedony and before every door a naked ****** watches on their heads turbans of a hundred colours in their hands scimitars like windy torches each is blacker than oblivion the ladies of the emperor’s harem are queens of all the earth and the rings upon their hands are from mines a mile deep but the body of the queen of queens is more transparent than water,she is softer than birds 2. when the emperor is very amorous he reclines upon the couch of couches and beckons with the little finger of his left hand then the thrice-three-hundredth door is opened by the tallest ****** and the queen of queens comes forth ankles musical with large pearls kingdoms in her ears at the feet of the emperor a cithern- player squats with quiveringgold body behind the emperor ten elected warriors with bodies of lazy jade and twitching eyelids finger their unquiet spears the queen of queens is dancing her subtle body weaving insinuating upon the gold cloth incessantly creates patterns of sudden lust her stealing body ex- pending gathering pouring upon itself stiffenS to a white thorn of desire the taut neck of the citharede wags in the dust the ghastly warriors amber with lust breathe together the emperor,exerting himself among his pillows throws jewels at the queen of queens and white money upon her nakedness he nods and all depart through the bruised air aflutter with pearls 3. they are alone he beckons,she rises she stands a moment in the passion of the fifty pillars listening while the queens of all the earth writhe upon deep rugs
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11.2k
The Emperor
I. the emperor sleeps in a palace of porphyry which was a million years building he takes the air in a howdah of jasper beneath saffron umbrellas upon an elephant twelve foot high behind whose ear sits always a crowned king twir- ling an ankus of ebony the fountains of the emperor’s palace run sunlight and moonlight and the emperor’s elephant is a thousand years old the harem of the emperor is carpeted with gold cloth from the ceiling(one diamond timid with nesting incense) fifty marble pillars slipped from immeasurable height,fall,fifty,silent in the incense is tangled a cool moon there are thrice-three-hundred doors carven of chalcedony and before every door a naked ****** watches on their heads turbans of a hundred colours in their hands scimitars like windy torches each is blacker than oblivion the ladies of the emperor’s harem are queens of all the earth and the rings upon their hands are from mines a mile deep but the body of the queen of queens is more transparent than water,she is softer than birds 2. when the emperor is very amorous he reclines upon the couch of couches and beckons with the little finger of his left hand then the thrice-three-hundredth door is opened by the tallest ****** and the queen of queens comes forth ankles musical with large pearls kingdoms in her ears at the feet of the emperor a cithern- player squats with quiveringgold body behind the emperor ten elected warriors with bodies of lazy jade and twitching eyelids finger their unquiet spears the queen of queens is dancing her subtle body weaving insinuating upon the gold cloth incessantly creates patterns of sudden lust her stealing body ex- pending gathering pouring upon itself stiffenS to a white thorn of desire the taut neck of the citharede wags in the dust the ghastly warriors amber with lust breathe together the emperor,exerting himself among his pillows throws jewels at the queen of queens and white money upon her nakedness he nods and all depart through the bruised air aflutter with pearls 3. they are alone he beckons,she rises she stands a moment in the passion of the fifty pillars listening while the queens of all the earth writhe upon deep rugs
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119
The sky puts on the darkening blue coat held for it by a row of ancient trees; you watch: and the lands grow distant in your sight, one journeying to heaven, one that falls; and leave you, not at home in either one, not quite so still and dark as the darkened houses, not calling to eternity with the passion of what becomes a star each night, and rises; and leave you (inexpressibly to unravel) your life, with its immensity and fear, so that, now bounded, now immeasurable, it is alternately stone in you and star.
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9.7k
Evening
~ oh sun set at sunset, oh set sun divine; oh sun set at sunset, oh set sun on mine. each finger a print, each palm in your hands, each color a glint, from immeasurable sands. no out-of-time dance, ’tis artistic mystique, no step left to chance, it’s unveiling unique; each a palette’s adieu, as sunset's wine tips with a lover's, ‘helloo’, to kiss twilight lips. forever the lover, a gifting, a sign, as dusk throws its covers o’er the love it enshrines. oh sun set at sunset, my lover is you, oh sun set at sunset, 'sweetest dreams’ to you too. ~ *post script. watching a sunset always reminds me of the ardent kiss of two lover’s bidding each other, ’good night!’*
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May 10, 2015
May 10, 2015 at 11:22 PM UTC
sunset dreams
Intangible is the vision I've held close and clear The strength behind my every morning rise Incredible was the ride that brought me back here Past decisions that may lead to future's demise Irreversible is the garb I've worn soaked with many a tear Fits me ill; but still I wear with swollen eyes Immeasurable are the hopes that nowadays meander and veer Still believe even though they sang only of lies...
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Dec 24, 2014
Dec 24, 2014 at 2:48 PM UTC
Hopeful Lies
*Man and woman, though different Are equal in the eyes of God. inexplicable though true but still Unacceptable for some perhaps Man is the highest of all creations Woman is the most sublime of all Ideals. God made for a man a throne, for a woman an altar. the throne exalts, The altar sanctifies. Man is the brain. woman is the heart. The brain fabricates light while The heart produces love. light fecunds, Love resuscitates. Man is the code. Woman is the gospel. The code corrects As the gospel perfects. Man is the genius while Woman is the angel. The genius is undefinable And the angel is immeasurable. Man is strong in reason but woman is invincible in her tears. Reason convinces the most stubborn Just as tears soften the hardest of mortals. Man is the ocean And the woman is the lake. The ocean has it's pearls that adorn; The lake has its poems that dazzle.* ***Man stands where the earth ends; And woman where heaven begins.***
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Sep 27, 2014
Sep 27, 2014 at 9:46 PM UTC
Man vs. Woman
Spines curve as sweetly as drops from a honeysuckle Notes in a melody fill the void spaces Gentle rushes stir like the swish of rustling leaves Flushed as red as the cherry who’s stem is knotted Time stolen from the hands of a frozen clock- Still like snow fallen from a winter shower Senses fully awaken to chase alluring aromas   Repetitive jolts of candied sin trickle throughout the body Electric flow in the veins sparks an extended invitation Contagious appetite will mirror aches of desire Surges of shock in the body join the mind and soul Accelerating spikes in heart rate kiss private secrets Boundless longing branded to one another Yearning indulged by limitless exchanges of energy- Transfers immune from harm Pressure from oneness loosens the tremble in pleading breaths Hands close around each hip to clench their hollows Credible fingers drenched in admiration coat mingled skin One is composed by the gravitation of two Defying moonlight to surrender at an immeasurable ****** Reaching for the highest point to let go Sharing traces of untamed wind with soaring wings Collecting innocence altered by ecstasy Choosing vulnerability to expose what cannot be said Fantasies traded through the rhythm of touch
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Oct 28, 2018
Oct 28, 2018 at 10:21 AM UTC
I wake your senses to remind you that you wake mine
From the humblest of beginnings Began a tough innings A family deprived His dad had died So to work he went To help pay the rent From a teen to a man In a short time span He had many a job Hard earned each “bob” He was a keeper of bees He picked beans and peas With marbles and shanghai He had a keen eye So rabbits he’d stalk Their pelts he sought A butcher and baker And fence post maker A fisherman and fruiterer And even spud picker A shearer of great ability Those shears he clicked with agility From morn to night He worked hard alright Met a girl and made her his wife Ten children now blessed his life He provided as best he could Forever working for their good A large family and so little money Life, of course, was not always sunny Simply he lived, simple his dwelling The trials he faced so very compelling A ****** awful thing was done A terrible tragedy stole his son With grief immeasurable and untold He held together; staying controlled Children struggled to forgive their mother As she left him and found another Yet for her he would always stand Always hoping to win back her hand Another tragedy claimed a limb We thought it would be the death of him His work, his wife, his health now gone Yet silently, painfully he continued on We knew his heart was terribly broken Yet always forgiveness he had spoken We knew he lived with daily pain But silent and strong he would remain His strength and courage was beyond belief But for him there would be no relief His children were now all grown He died, one night … alone
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Jan 6, 2011
Jan 6, 2011 at 12:49 PM UTC
Aussie Battler
From the humblest of beginnings Began a tough innings A family deprived His dad had died So to work he went To help pay the rent From a teen to a man In a short time span He had many a job Hard earned each “bob” He was a keeper of bees He picked beans and peas With marbles and shanghai He had a keen eye So rabbits he’d stalk Their pelts he sought A butcher and baker And fence post maker A fisherman and fruiterer And even spud picker A shearer of great ability Those shears he clicked with agility From morn to night He worked hard alright Met a girl and made her his wife Ten children now blessed his life He provided as best he could Forever working for their good A large family and so little money Life, of course, was not always sunny Simply he lived, simple his dwelling The trials he faced so very compelling A ****** awful thing was done A terrible tragedy stole his son With grief immeasurable and untold He held together; staying controlled Children struggled to forgive their mother As she left him and found another Yet for her he would always stand Always hoping to win back her hand Another tragedy claimed a limb We thought it would be the death of him His work, his wife, his health now gone Yet silently, painfully he continued on We knew his heart was terribly broken Yet always forgiveness he had spoken We knew he lived with daily pain But silent and strong he would remain His strength and courage was beyond belief But for him there would be no relief His children were now all grown He died, one night … alone
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52
Despair often embark in a lovers joy When the love gone missing for only a speed second All triumph and exhilaration turns to dust and disappears into thin air The sense of love that one feels suddenly alter into immeasurable grief An hour of disturbed, sorrowful contemplation pass by like thousand nights of longing for a reaching hand or devoted kiss Do not mistake fire for water Humans in love would have cried out, “I want to catch fire and be all burnt just to taste water again.” Do not mistake poison for wine, for insane lovers say “Let this bitterness reverse against any other taste upon my tongue, and let this body sick. All I want is my soul to be drunk and content with a lover’s sanity.” Be patient when you want to be in love And let go when you think that love is not meant to be For love always come again Spreading hands Feeding souls Overcoming ego And finally kiss the unreached parts of solely your body.
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Jun 29, 2018
Jun 29, 2018 at 10:42 PM UTC
Rumi Said Lovers Are Patient, and Know That The Moon Needs Time To Become Full.
What is Freedom? Freedom is a single star in the night sky Freedom is a first breath Freedom is every dream you've ever dreamed What is Freedom? Freedom is a first love and a last love Freedom is the vast ocean and the immeasurable sky Freedom is the song you sing in your heart and the songs you sing to the world What is Freedom? Freedom is the secrets you share with your siblings Freedom is your parents love Freedom is your best friends laughter What is Freedom? Freedom is pushing yourself to do better Freedom is taking a chance Freedom is gaining knowledge What is Freedom? Freedom is a single star in the night sky Freedom is a first breath Freedom is every dream you've ever dreamed
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Feb 1, 2018
Feb 1, 2018 at 12:01 PM UTC
What is Freedom
Can we pretend for a bit,                 that every day is a bicycle waltz? That every day is filled,                 filled with wine and whiskey love. And skin feels like heaven,                when no one is watching it touched. That your body & my body,                will never grow tired of the endlessness of each other's. Everyday should be a bicycle waltz,                With you my dear,                                       my immeasurable amount of intangible motion.
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Apr 24, 2013
Apr 24, 2013 at 10:48 AM UTC
Let's. Let's. Let's. (The Empty Ones)
Darling, I'm a thunderstorm and my rain pelts down harsher than the words you spit in vehement violence Darling, I'm a thunderstorm and my lightening strikes brighter than the empty promises you made (brighter, but just as fleeting) Darling, I'm a thunderstorm and my rage is vast, immeasurable filling oceans with its ferocity Darling, I'm a thunderstorm and this too will pass, leaving chaos in its wake.
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Oct 10, 2019
Oct 10, 2019 at 6:50 PM UTC
Darling, I'm a thunderstorm
is to raise a wall back to its preexistence to halt a read-between-the-lines brand of resonance; a wall to protect those constructed surfaces from even being scratched. Now, you feel               an                   empty sting when your access to a digital counterpart, a modern-day version of a person's cognition, is denied. It's as if their posts are the only way left where you could actually hear the things that couldn't be spoken of; where you could feel the immeasurable heartbeats that could never be projected;   and all of these       illusions           make you wish               you talked more                   in real life.
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Nov 9, 2018
Nov 9, 2018 at 1:37 AM UTC
To use the Block button
Beyond imagination, Beyond reality, Your love and blessings are immeasurable, Yet I forget; In despair I return, Make me strong and compassionate, Better than I was, Above all, Closer to you than ever before.
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Oct 7, 2014
Oct 7, 2014 at 5:04 AM UTC
The Blessings
When you hear the lines We can be friends But not as you want it I don't deserve you These are legends Masters of breakups Know it's time to walk away Can't you see there is lockdown? I'm observing social distancing Someone who once stole your heart You even promised heaven on earth My Dear, the calabash is crashed Give yourself some dignity I need a break my dear I want to re-discover myself My Mum said we can't marry Sincerely, I truly love you But if you see another, say "Yes" My dear, please, walk away Let's avoid imminent divorce Especially when the signs are clear They have a masters in heartbreaks I got a revelation last night My Pastor, my Prophet said No calls, no messages, just blanks If you've witnessed this Please, come, let's cry together Just believe that "Cue sera sera" Maybe you even just delivered... Breakups are never easy It has sent many to depression And some, early graves Love cannot be forced my dear If you are not valued and appreciated And ghostmode is activated Take the honourable part Just walk away... Where there is pain I wish you immeasurable love True love is never hurtful Your setback will be a setup For your glorious come back And it will end in praise Just like a Cinderella story You aren't alone, I've been there too...
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May 22, 2020
May 22, 2020 at 8:06 AM UTC
Breakups
I believe in a universe where a sleepy eye opens existence... a slowly drooping eyelid ushers it away. I believe in a universe where Indra and the other Gods churn the cosmic milk... where Shiva does the eternal dance. I believe in a universe where light is separate from darkness and mankind is molded from a ball of divine **** a breath, Be and it is. I believe in a universe where Gaia watches as Cronus devours her children until she gives him a stone... and hides Zeus away. I believe in a universe that expands from a singularity of infinitely dense potentiality less than a speck, to our cosmos immeasurable in scale. I believe in a universe where Lao Tuz hands a guard a little book of wisdom before disappearing into the mountains where the sages go. I believe in a universe where Siddhartha contemplates emptiness and feels the winds of eternity whistling through his soul. I believe in a universe where E=Mc2. I believe in a universe where an old man lights the first holy fire and describes the war between light and goodness vs darkness and evil. I believe in a universe where the earth and moon, and all the planets go round the sun... in a galaxy carrying us dancing a waltz we can only catch glimpses of. I believe in a universe where "Know Thyself" is revered as a deep truth. I believe in a universe where an unexamined life is not worth living. I believe in a universe where the words of a carpenter are a true path. I believe in a universe where an illiterate man is commanded Read!... a burning coal upon the lips. I believe in a universe where every God and Goddess exist, each in their own heaven... each in their own hell. I believe in a universe where there are no gods or goddesses only the relentless laws of matter, energy and gravity. I believe in a universe where everything is mathematics. I believe in a universe where everything is holy I believe in a universe where everything in profane. I believe in a universe where everything is a simulation. I believe in a universe where everything is ****** in nature. I believe in a universe where everything is stimulation. I believe in a universe where the hoochie ******* is what its all about. I believe in the universe.
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Jan 6, 2018
Jan 6, 2018 at 2:19 PM UTC
I Believe
I believe in a universe where a sleepy eye opens existence... a slowly drooping eyelid ushers it away. I believe in a universe where Indra and the other Gods churn the cosmic milk... where Shiva does the eternal dance. I believe in a universe where light is separate from darkness and mankind is molded from a ball of divine **** a breath, Be and it is. I believe in a universe where Gaia watches as Cronus devours her children until she gives him a stone... and hides Zeus away. I believe in a universe that expands from a singularity of infinitely dense potentiality less than a speck, to our cosmos immeasurable in scale. I believe in a universe where Lao Tuz hands a guard a little book of wisdom before disappearing into the mountains where the sages go. I believe in a universe where Siddhartha contemplates emptiness and feels the winds of eternity whistling through his soul. I believe in a universe where E=Mc2. I believe in a universe where an old man lights the first holy fire and describes the war between light and goodness vs darkness and evil. I believe in a universe where the earth and moon, and all the planets go round the sun... in a galaxy carrying us dancing a waltz we can only catch glimpses of. I believe in a universe where "Know Thyself" is revered as a deep truth. I believe in a universe where an unexamined life is not worth living. I believe in a universe where the words of a carpenter are a true path. I believe in a universe where an illiterate man is commanded Read!... a burning coal upon the lips. I believe in a universe where every God and Goddess exist, each in their own heaven... each in their own hell. I believe in a universe where there are no gods or goddesses only the relentless laws of matter, energy and gravity. I believe in a universe where everything is mathematics. I believe in a universe where everything is holy I believe in a universe where everything in profane. I believe in a universe where everything is a simulation. I believe in a universe where everything is ****** in nature. I believe in a universe where everything is stimulation. I believe in a universe where the hoochie ******* is what its all about. I believe in the universe.
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53
Heaven divided Culture quieted Society blinded. We come and go, nomadic Sporadic indifferent decayed souls False in virtue Paying toll for our sins. Your blood runs thick My ink leaves sinking hearts awaiting pain Enduring no salvation. A broken promise you cannot complete Will haunt your soul, a melody Inescapable, immeasurable, immaculate in design.
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Apr 9, 2010
Apr 9, 2010 at 1:07 AM UTC
A Broken Promise