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"impotency" poems
I ran up six flights of stairs to my small furnished room   opened the window and began throwing out those things most important in life. First to go, Truth, squealing like a fink: "Don't! I'll tell awful things about you!" "Oh yeah? Well, I've nothing to hide ... OUT!" Then went God, glowering & whimpering in amazement:   "It's not my fault! I'm not the cause of it all!" "OUT!"   Then Love, cooing bribes: "You'll never know impotency!   All the girls on Vogue covers, all yours!" I pushed her fat *** out and screamed: "You always end up a ****** I picked up Faith, Hope, Charity all three clinging together: "Without us you'll surely die!" "With you I'm going nuts! Goodbye!" Then Beauty ... ah, Beauty— As I led her to the window I told her: "You I loved best in life ... but you're a killer; Beauty kills!"   Not really meaning to drop her I immediately ran downstairs getting there just in time to catch her   "You saved me!" she cried I put her down and told her: "Move on." Went back up those six flights went to the money there was no money to throw out. The only thing left in the room was Death   hiding beneath the kitchen sink: "I'm not real!" It cried "I'm just a rumor spread by life ... "   Laughing I threw it out, kitchen sink and all   and suddenly realized Humor was all that was left— All I could do with Humor was to say:   "Out the window with the window!"
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Feb 28, 2014
Feb 28, 2014 at 5:33 AM UTC
The Whole Mess ... Almost - by Gregory Corso
"The Nymphs are departed" says Elliot, the nymphs are departed, so, all the barbers dumped their tools into the lake out of the village, because all men will grow beard, the homosexuality of the high ends of the streets, is stuck to the heel of that transgender like a dust, you can not shake your head if you have combed your hair neatly, and your impotency is revealed, you reach to the tree running, and fall like a chestnut, your hands are still blue from the act of last night, there is no question that you will be accused, for the name sake there are some shovering forests, at the every rough turn of the streets, you can only enter with your grown beard, there is only one riddle to solve, "why did the nymphs depart?"
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Mar 20, 2012
Mar 20, 2012 at 5:18 PM UTC
Nymphonic Riddle
The melody of the strings of life a substitution for the institution take my arm, let it reach a far in creativity and sensitivity beats bouncing the zombies from the graves of impotency created by mundane manipulation mutilations of the happiness we long as we capture the tides of everyday The harmony of the universal love screaming with a tantalizing mission a remission from the decay of the society sugar coated with lengthy dices of lies then iced with laces of illusionary secretions tis' me who embrace the skin you wear as we seek a new phase of revolution solutions that are delusional and waking rising through ever dense curved valley
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Oct 15, 2016
Oct 15, 2016 at 1:25 PM UTC
Let's Seek the Revolution (To My Utopia .... Dystopia-HP)
It's not that I can't do it Its just that I can't KEEP ON doin it Whatever "it" may be I'm consistently inconsistent you see Maybe cause I was born to be free But that choice always seems to wind up in apathy I just can't keep it up If I was a man then surely I'd be suffering from impotency
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Apr 6, 2015
Apr 6, 2015 at 11:59 PM UTC
The Right Consistency
***Villain are always rich Heroes are always poor Villains being rational Heroes being irrational Villains are emotional Heroes are calm and dead Villains live longer Hero life are always tragedy Villains moves faster in life Heroes moves slower calling mindful Villains live in glamourise bungalow Heroes live in so called pathetic hut Villains death is injury Heroes injury is death Villains buys on full cash Heroes buys on instalment Villains enjoy beautiful girls calling him flirt Heroes enjoy the impotency called gentleman At last Villains killed by heroes Heroes are killed by villains kins***
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Sep 12, 2017
Sep 12, 2017 at 1:32 PM UTC
Advantages of being villains
The rigor morgasm last bus to spasmville will you rise to the occasion,take a ride,go on vacation or will you fail,sails up,head down,sink or swim,win out or drown? These thoughts are what occur to me,when thinking somewhat morbidly about what age may do to me,and when or if it happens, will I see, or feel the loss of my virility,it really bothers me,it never did before,but then I'm almost at three score,(I'm talking years) when fears of that impotency may be more important than what I think of as my potency,and I ask the lord libido to show me some high rise clemency and let me be the man I think I am. Fevers of the mind when the motions of the body blind, slow, you know, but you don't say, you love me anyway I love you sometimes and sometimes at times I come through,making love with you,counting calendars,dates and we are the best of mates,lovers too.sometimes you love me sometimes coming through,but always love me making love with you. We may be old and often told that all is past, and then we smile and kiss, cast off our wrinkled skin and dive in to swim in each others winning ways,making it,sometimes at odd times of the days or nights and lights off or on, and if this goes the way we think it should I would not complain. There comes a time sometimes when we have to read between the lines and tell the Doctor on prescription about the failures of ******** I ***** a monument, to this my plea, let the lord libido be kind to me.
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Nov 18, 2013
Nov 18, 2013 at 8:37 PM UTC
Shocking
Simple is the story of hard earned money; Hard to earn hard to spend; Single penny is worth and respected; Fight within continues, spend it or save it; Earn, when u have nothing; But yes problems accompany; Giving doesn't mean much, if you have much; Giving, when u are having little; Smile covering the helpless forlorn impotency; Even smile hiding the difficulty of spending; Parents choose comfort of child over there need; Sacrifice not because its responsibility; Finding satisfaction in giving; It’s known to be utmost; I witnessed that smile on a worker; Offering tea when you barely earn to eat I witnessed that smile on a father; Those muddy legs told me real cost of college fees; I witnessed that smile on a customer; Confirming billion times before paying off; Increment in bus fare by 20 rs made a huge difference; How I throw 20 bucks on a soft drink; I wonder why I don’t think like this; How can I feel sad for inadequate money? How man gets satisfy in cheap cloths and food; Here i think i wear a signature instead of Strauss; Simple is the story of hard earned money; Hard to earn hard to spend;
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Apr 2, 2011
Apr 2, 2011 at 1:46 PM UTC
Hard Earned Money
Have you ever fallen in love? I once did, sitting on top of a sand dune under the lights of the Fourth of July.                                          The water below                                          cast the reflection of beautiful chandeliers                                          bursting with color,                                          and as timeless as sand,                                          and yet my eyes were elsewhere -                                          capturing something unlike I'd ever seen. Have you ever fallen in love? I once did, laying on a couch as I held her, she turned to me and smiled; the chandeliers were bold and raucous as they decorated the sky of my mind, and the stars twinkled in the depths of her eyes - that memory since faded with time. Have you ever fallen in love? I once did, the pen in my hand gave birth to words and worlds made from my reflection like they were my children - and I had always feared impotency.                                                I created places I'd never seen,                                                but they were as real as sand,                                                and for a moment,                                                I felt like God:                                                watching from above                                                as my creations began to breathe. Have you ever fallen in love? I once did, living on a page of black and white, if I was God, she was an angel, and the song from her trumpet reminded me of the chandeliers I thought were lost in time. Have you ever fallen in love? I don't know if I ever have, but what I have is something that gives me a reason to be;                                                  Something beautiful                                                  and intricate                                                  like a chandelier                                                  whose glass was once                                                  nothing more                                                  than countless grains of sand.
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May 12, 2016
May 12, 2016 at 4:34 PM UTC
Sand
Have you ever fallen in love? I once did, sitting on top of a sand dune under the lights of the Fourth of July.                                          The water below                                          cast the reflection of beautiful chandeliers                                          bursting with color,                                          and as timeless as sand,                                          and yet my eyes were elsewhere -                                          capturing something unlike I'd ever seen. Have you ever fallen in love? I once did, laying on a couch as I held her, she turned to me and smiled; the chandeliers were bold and raucous as they decorated the sky of my mind, and the stars twinkled in the depths of her eyes - that memory since faded with time. Have you ever fallen in love? I once did, the pen in my hand gave birth to words and worlds made from my reflection like they were my children - and I had always feared impotency.                                                I created places I'd never seen,                                                but they were as real as sand,                                                and for a moment,                                                I felt like God:                                                watching from above                                                as my creations began to breathe. Have you ever fallen in love? I once did, living on a page of black and white, if I was God, she was an angel, and the song from her trumpet reminded me of the chandeliers I thought were lost in time. Have you ever fallen in love? I don't know if I ever have, but what I have is something that gives me a reason to be;                                                  Something beautiful                                                  and intricate                                                  like a chandelier                                                  whose glass was once                                                  nothing more                                                  than countless grains of sand.
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"Janice, I sat next to you in Latin. We were sophomores. You were a cheerleader but smart too. The excitement was unbearable (Cicero; the shape of your sweater . . . ). I asked you to play tennis." "You did never." "Yes, I did." "I suppose I didn't want to get sweaty." "So then you would have gone with me to a movie?" "No, I doubt it. . . . I was a brat." "You were divine. I wrote a poem for you in Latin."    "Lynda, we met at The Three Penny Opera. You were an usher. I was a college student; you were in high school." "Yes, a 'townie'." "I put my arm around you. I stroked your hair. When I tried to kiss you on the forehead our noses collided." "I was expecting a lip kiss." "It was a powerful attraction, but it wouldn't have worked." "No, we could have made great love, but it wouldn't have lasted."    "Gina, you lived on that 'hippie farm' at the edge of town. I was the 'knowing elder', the one who'd worked on a real farm. You were so high-energy, so alluring. Guys flocked to you: William and Michael; Davy, back home; sexually involved with all of them." "Not Michael really." "You seduced me-- I think you wanted to make William jealous-- not that I was unwilling. . . . I was, however, impotent." "I wanted adventure and, yes, I suppose I did want to make        William jealous." "Our intimacy awakened me. I realized what I'd been missing. Your rejection was devastating." "I didn't mean to hurt you. I didn't know you were so fragile."    "Carla, I loved you in your apartment. It was all softness and warmth; **** carpet, soft bed, Carole King on the stereo. . . . We slept together, showered together." "I really listened to Carole King?" "Your parents were divorcing. You didn't have time for a relationship." "I don't think I was ready." "Just as I was overcoming my impotency. . . ."    "Sarah, I loved you on a camping trip. We kissed at dusk in the Great Smoky Mountains." "I remember." "I felt so connected-- physically, intellectually, emotionally. You smiled with your whole face, with your whole being. I wanted to be with you steadily. You said it wouldn't work. I guess you were right: I couldn't love someone who couldn't love me completely. When we parted, I cried uncontrollably." "Yes, I remember."
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Dec 1, 2021
Dec 1, 2021 at 11:00 PM UTC
The Poet Talks To His Former Loves
"Janice, I sat next to you in Latin. We were sophomores. You were a cheerleader but smart too. The excitement was unbearable (Cicero; the shape of your sweater . . . ). I asked you to play tennis." "You did never." "Yes, I did." "I suppose I didn't want to get sweaty." "So then you would have gone with me to a movie?" "No, I doubt it. . . . I was a brat." "You were divine. I wrote a poem for you in Latin."    "Lynda, we met at The Three Penny Opera. You were an usher. I was a college student; you were in high school." "Yes, a 'townie'." "I put my arm around you. I stroked your hair. When I tried to kiss you on the forehead our noses collided." "I was expecting a lip kiss." "It was a powerful attraction, but it wouldn't have worked." "No, we could have made great love, but it wouldn't have lasted."    "Gina, you lived on that 'hippie farm' at the edge of town. I was the 'knowing elder', the one who'd worked on a real farm. You were so high-energy, so alluring. Guys flocked to you: William and Michael; Davy, back home; sexually involved with all of them." "Not Michael really." "You seduced me-- I think you wanted to make William jealous-- not that I was unwilling. . . . I was, however, impotent." "I wanted adventure and, yes, I suppose I did want to make        William jealous." "Our intimacy awakened me. I realized what I'd been missing. Your rejection was devastating." "I didn't mean to hurt you. I didn't know you were so fragile."    "Carla, I loved you in your apartment. It was all softness and warmth; **** carpet, soft bed, Carole King on the stereo. . . . We slept together, showered together." "I really listened to Carole King?" "Your parents were divorcing. You didn't have time for a relationship." "I don't think I was ready." "Just as I was overcoming my impotency. . . ."    "Sarah, I loved you on a camping trip. We kissed at dusk in the Great Smoky Mountains." "I remember." "I felt so connected-- physically, intellectually, emotionally. You smiled with your whole face, with your whole being. I wanted to be with you steadily. You said it wouldn't work. I guess you were right: I couldn't love someone who couldn't love me completely. When we parted, I cried uncontrollably." "Yes, I remember."
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Long ago I dreamt of mountains, I dreamt of finding bliss, I lay alone now, unfulfilled I sleep in slime and **** I travelled far, and left my home In search of light and revelation, But neither the road, nor the sky Could sanctify my demons. I sought to pray atop the spire Where the clouds and mountains meet, Though restoration of lost fire, Is a mere idealistic dream. I've had women, but never known love For my impotency defines, I bore not the mind nor matter To obtain what could have been mine. Bitterness, sweet bitterness I make love to my cigarettes, They keep me warm on coldest nights When I am drowning in Solipsis. In cinema, man is changed by journeys But fictions are not always so, For some wounds are beyond healing, And I race now towards Thanatos.
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Sep 8, 2010
Sep 8, 2010 at 11:07 AM UTC
The Summit
Drawing blinds across our eyes we are blinded to the beauty trapped inside. sideways,all ways and in days of darkness we cannot see and blinded as we are we'll be forever bound by that impotency of being in, yet still without,being a part of,yet still not seeing this humble being begs to let the light in,get the blinds pulled,cull the nights that **** him,nights no longer thrill him or will him to deliver goddesses to altar tables. Beds and fables stories now, but I am still unable to forget, more than millstones 'round my neck and iron ***** placed on my ankles designed to slow me down, Oh how it rankles. Time was, life was younger and in that hungering I ate my fill and how the darkness of the night did thrill me so to and fro. A see saw ride a fairground slide to my demise and somewhere now,behind the blinds inside and written on the signposts,hosts to my dependence on the days long gone where I had shone my light, there sits a frightened child with wild abandoned thought, untamed adventures I have sought and fought against society but now I'll be the child that waits within for me.
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Aug 16, 2013
Aug 16, 2013 at 3:06 AM UTC
Library cards
Surely in the distant future historians will find our civilization Appalling, destructive, gluttony, Stricken. Receipts of items that once fulfilled our temporal desires will fill earth creating a toxic compost for life To nourish upon They'll blame us for the decay And devolution of man They'll duly note our fascination With stimulants and violent trends And most of all, they'll be unable To comprehend our impotency our hubris our clemency They'll construct theories That moor our cultural malaise To each recrudescence of tyranny In essence they will despise our very nature. Not out of contempt but out of fear that they too will fall prey to the plague.
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Dec 25, 2012
Dec 25, 2012 at 5:27 AM UTC
"Surely in the distant future..."
I could write about anything and no one would stop and think. Everything's been said before. Rephrased and repositioned to the point of impotency.
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Jul 5, 2015
Jul 5, 2015 at 7:07 AM UTC
Nobody Cares
and the songs fade but a saintly poet or two wanders streets and alley looking for who ever is here here where the lovers met the gods and the maidens are free and lovely and good ....... i remember seeing you there! ........ the hours are corrupt and the leaders we worship are corrupting evil greed-encrusted alien scoundrels as we all know! .... and so? ...... and so!!!!!!!! well!! we are the song incarnate! we are the utter epitome of pure god love and light! we are the source of the only power still truly alive! we are NOT the politically correct automatons that they'd have us be! the ******* robotic ditto-headed monstrosities of vote giving impotency called "patriotic christian americana" NO we are simply "what you hear when we choose to speak" we are simply "what we do in accordance with what we need" WE ARE MEN AND WOMEN CHILDREN ANIMALS FLOWERS TREES SKIES AND WIND AND SEAS we are what is known we are always together this we realize eventually
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Aug 18, 2011
Aug 18, 2011 at 4:32 PM UTC
all my love dear friends
Here, all the words in the world, they are no good to me, more or less, they are useless, that much is plain to see.   These barren syllables mock me, scorn at my delight, profundity and beauty desert me, in mouldering hours of night. Here the gravity of my world, certainty in despondency, what a tall and terrible load, the language of impotency.
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Mar 8, 2015
Mar 8, 2015 at 3:27 PM UTC
Old Draught Horse and an Oxford English Dictionary
what a shame that I’ll never truly be able to capture the beauty of our own universe not in words, not in pictures, not in motions but I see it oh I see it and it haunts me so just how beautiful everything is everything is unique and interesting in so many ways everything has its way and everything has its purpose everything is as they are and I as I look out the window and witness all of existence I weep at my insignificance, at my impotency in the face of this marvel. But Christ! *how lucky we are to be alive*
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Jan 26, 2012
Jan 26, 2012 at 7:33 PM UTC
what's there to say?
As my life gets so complex, I slowly massage my neck. I scratch my head knowing I’m truly dead. I can't begin to express my loneliness. I can sit here in my room contemplating my doom. This cloud of gloom won't pass me by. Alas, I don't know why. You were a last reach at humanity. I guessed at the decision and got such a calamity. All I wanted was a friend. Instead I lost all hope in the end of sanity. As I felt my head leave my neck, you bagged my air and said what the heck; you tried your best, a feeble attempt, at a molesting order. I said look over your shoulder, a sky so blue and clear it removed the tears from my eyes as I said goodbye. You so coldly left my body in such a disarrayed exposed to all on that horrible day. In the back seat of a car, white in color, I always knew it would be a brother. One with no sense of others only a frustration unto himself his impotency and broken mind has caused my death before it's time. There is only one thing left to do as I cruse toward the judgment land. I'll ask god to forgive you. As you walk this life, just remember your fall from grace and try to make a vow to always protect instead of kill, To hold dear and get out of your own way make it clear you were to let go and to stay clear. To learn and live, find another, begin again. Just remember your vow remains till time will end. Your death could be eternal over and over again. Through the non ending flames of his judgment, fear lives long, but forgiveness wins.
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Nov 13, 2010
Nov 13, 2010 at 4:53 AM UTC
Forgivness Wins
As my life gets so complex, I slowly massage my neck. I scratch my head knowing I’m truly dead. I can't begin to express my loneliness. I can sit here in my room contemplating my doom. This cloud of gloom won't pass me by. Alas, I don't know why. You were a last reach at humanity. I guessed at the decision and got such a calamity. All I wanted was a friend. Instead I lost all hope in the end of sanity. As I felt my head leave my neck, you bagged my air and said what the heck; you tried your best, a feeble attempt, at a molesting order. I said look over your shoulder, a sky so blue and clear it removed the tears from my eyes as I said goodbye. You so coldly left my body in such a disarrayed exposed to all on that horrible day. In the back seat of a car, white in color, I always knew it would be a brother. One with no sense of others only a frustration unto himself his impotency and broken mind has caused my death before it's time. There is only one thing left to do as I cruse toward the judgment land. I'll ask god to forgive you. As you walk this life, just remember your fall from grace and try to make a vow to always protect instead of kill, To hold dear and get out of your own way make it clear you were to let go and to stay clear. To learn and live, find another, begin again. Just remember your vow remains till time will end. Your death could be eternal over and over again. Through the non ending flames of his judgment, fear lives long, but forgiveness wins.
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Designated ***** Tastes and wasted time Waking up bored enough To jump off a building Listening to forty Years of life and love I share mine of nil I've had my fill Of nonsense for today Iced-over managing me Lied obscene moderating Miniscule matters Multiplied by how much I dread The amplification Arduous impotency Marked on inadequately Silence as the fall completes
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Jun 18, 2014
Jun 18, 2014 at 7:24 PM UTC
Hungry
One who reasserts power constantly Shows strong signs of weakness, impotency! Though they may deny it vigorously, Perhaps protest a little too loudly?
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Feb 5, 2018
Feb 5, 2018 at 9:29 AM UTC
Powerful?
all the dear day long you are here but hidden seeming semblance of forgotten order turned by political forces into caricature and demonized until even you yourself belief in the very nature of your impotency -- we are the crown of creation! why are we groveling within the darkest hour possible!? why does our LOVE songs and stories seem so immature and lacking any true sense of vitality? PLEASE ANSWER! then, at least i can tell that you still are here
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Jul 29, 2011
Jul 29, 2011 at 11:46 AM UTC
sleeping beauty
things swings tuck eventually finger dead ******* new forget beneath middle sweet **** doubt knees essence life time nerves chickens orphan straighten plead thirsty vine harder club sun willingly serpent card pity shows twisted bare brew whispered amazing crystal knuckles invisible oil monkey foretold tragedys leeve grace snail tethered bambi creepy gasoline clucking ****** mph roadkill kong impotency ******* 66 hear dis-array pre-payed skeletal embed colorful momentum ultimate donkey deer screeches unknowingly realization grounds wrinkle irony misleading formation golf clenching telemarketeers structure thoughts fall place beauty grow pray smell coming arm repeat broken ear art restless beat lost yell concrete know like want breath hold hands tangled way ****** long truth comes mind sand rest heavens smashed known yellow tire scales spoke toy says road hell linger swinging takes caught purpose stretch unforgiving chest embrace mud wind rock bunch shell curse birds tar lines glance ankles.
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Dec 11, 2014
Dec 11, 2014 at 1:46 PM UTC
Words: (No Order)
If God could decide either this way or that we could all slide off the counter and into the vat or reside in a paradise irrespective of all our vice. Decisions are impossible for the incapable the permanently impotent, impossible to circumvent and if God had meant anything to his son why would he have done what he done? touche, His son was our one and only chance to escape from the devil and the devil of a fate that would be, I see the importance of an important message for me, decipher at his will and I will or will not which depends on what mankind has on man's mind, but to find out I've got to at his will or mine uncover the secrets of the secret of time. If given a clue I could do it but that would be cheating. when you're beating on me permanently and the impotency strikes at me, I never fight back with you through the mirror we see you and me in reverse, I'm beating on you and for me that's much worse, if God could decide why doesn't he decide to smash all the glass or is that covered in the phrase, 'all thing must pass'? These are the follies I bear to ask here and there for a pardon, it's hard on me almost an impossibility and I always see Sunday in the stars.
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Apr 26, 2015
Apr 26, 2015 at 4:01 PM UTC
Trophy hunting
the formation of truth. the unforgiving grounds on which we were brew. the crystal in the sand before the shell. the card up your sleeve that is the ultimate **** you" foretold beneath serpent scales, invisible while well spoke, you unwillingly embrace your new colorful toy, your new found hell clenching every wrinkle while impotency screeches. like it or not it is the essence of "All" the sweet something whispered into your ear. the sweet something of things you don't want to hear. the things we long to forget. the things that linger and have purpose and unknowingly embed. the ******* creepy snail that eventually shows itself beneath the mud. the ******* ****** that takes a lifetime and once it comes you will never forget.
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Nov 13, 2014
Nov 13, 2014 at 5:05 PM UTC
the essence.
Here we go again...                                     With this feeling; this emptiness. I'd rather be violently shaken by screaming voices, loud bangs and unwanted windy touches than this impotency. But here we go again...                                  Waiting for the impossible.
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Jan 30, 2017
Jan 30, 2017 at 11:57 PM UTC
Numb
( excerpted from ---- THE WORDS OF THE MASTER POET )                                                                   Author ----- ANONYMOUS •• The most basic feature of great poetry is its use of CONTRAST :: For example - for something to have a certain quality It's absence must have the severest OPPOSITE   quality • The absence of the one you love Must be reason  for extreme hatred Or the love seems shallow // Having  a friend must be blown up into True eternal joy ! The absence of this feeling must be portrayed as PAIN ! ( and you must portray yourself as BROKEN ! as FOREVER SCARRED ! as now a ******* INSANE IDIOT ! or have your work shrunken unto impotency // You must describe your love as 1000 super novas ! Exploding majestically In the heartland of your ***** Your ***** becoming The Vision of the universe The appearance of god himself ! Here to illuminate the human race  ! // And the PAIN ! The excrutiating  pain In love 's absence The life denying loneliness The razor blades The exalted scars ! Of body Mind &                                  Soul ! // THIS IS POETRY !                                          ( contrast ) // The ACCEPTED , trendy sort of poetry Or The REJECTS ! - wallowing in wisdom And compassion ( these flairs MUST be avoided ) Think only of EXTREMES love / hate Joy / pain worthy / worthless Etc And you too Will become A MASTER POET ( like ME )
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Jun 4, 2015
Jun 4, 2015 at 12:52 AM UTC
.... secrets of poetry finally revealed
( excerpted from ---- THE WORDS OF THE MASTER POET )                                                                   Author ----- ANONYMOUS •• The most basic feature of great poetry is its use of CONTRAST :: For example - for something to have a certain quality It's absence must have the severest OPPOSITE   quality • The absence of the one you love Must be reason  for extreme hatred Or the love seems shallow // Having  a friend must be blown up into True eternal joy ! The absence of this feeling must be portrayed as PAIN ! ( and you must portray yourself as BROKEN ! as FOREVER SCARRED ! as now a ******* INSANE IDIOT ! or have your work shrunken unto impotency // You must describe your love as 1000 super novas ! Exploding majestically In the heartland of your ***** Your ***** becoming The Vision of the universe The appearance of god himself ! Here to illuminate the human race  ! // And the PAIN ! The excrutiating  pain In love 's absence The life denying loneliness The razor blades The exalted scars ! Of body Mind &                                  Soul ! // THIS IS POETRY !                                          ( contrast ) // The ACCEPTED , trendy sort of poetry Or The REJECTS ! - wallowing in wisdom And compassion ( these flairs MUST be avoided ) Think only of EXTREMES love / hate Joy / pain worthy / worthless Etc And you too Will become A MASTER POET ( like ME )
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