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"impregnates" poems
I will tell you a story In all its glory Explaining the ****** ***** Creating much more than The eye can see Its a story about a vibrant flower So beautiful it needs to be to attract the buzzing honey bees The story goes some thing like this So you can see the flowers multiply through the years Make two Four and many more The bee flys along and sees so many Beautiful flowers Longing to devour But which one So many colours Shapes Sizes Flowers cascading Parading So shameless Stands still Wow Striking Its a big bright pink one Circular in shape Bold Beautiful Its the one Open, with so many soft small petals Glistening with the rain drops Shining in the sun Sparkling with beauty from within Makes the bee meander to thee The bee needs to reproduce Suduced Stops and fills Spreads the seeds Allowed to please Pollunates Impregnates Recreates What you dont see is the story Combined with the True glory Of the extra ordinary ***** The beauty Of the buzzing bee Combined With the  gold assigned Inside So free Flying Trying Frantically to find the The hive Taking nectar Making honey, wax, all kind of f Fascinating lines Made from hexagon They divide into the lines They are full with precious delights The story continues The more you learn The more you yearn To see a honey bee Together the bee and the ****** ***** make harmony The vibrant flower allowed to duplicate More beauty for all to see For all to feel The special honey bee procreate and makes Wax creating ambiance Such a clever bee A savont; such a worker Magical tyrant Buzzing madly yearning to create the sweetest honey A honey bee can make Its like you to me You're the combination Make migrations in me Spreading beauty from within To others to proceed And begin I feel it with you; Vibrant flower Honey bee Coming together Creating so much sweet honey in me It's a wonderful story to me You see The story of the flower and the honey bee
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May 5, 2016
May 5, 2016 at 8:18 PM UTC
The story of the flower and the bee
I will tell you a story In all its glory Explaining the ****** ***** Creating much more than The eye can see Its a story about a vibrant flower So beautiful it needs to be to attract the buzzing honey bees The story goes some thing like this So you can see the flowers multiply through the years Make two Four and many more The bee flys along and sees so many Beautiful flowers Longing to devour But which one So many colours Shapes Sizes Flowers cascading Parading So shameless Stands still Wow Striking Its a big bright pink one Circular in shape Bold Beautiful Its the one Open, with so many soft small petals Glistening with the rain drops Shining in the sun Sparkling with beauty from within Makes the bee meander to thee The bee needs to reproduce Suduced Stops and fills Spreads the seeds Allowed to please Pollunates Impregnates Recreates What you dont see is the story Combined with the True glory Of the extra ordinary ***** The beauty Of the buzzing bee Combined With the  gold assigned Inside So free Flying Trying Frantically to find the The hive Taking nectar Making honey, wax, all kind of f Fascinating lines Made from hexagon They divide into the lines They are full with precious delights The story continues The more you learn The more you yearn To see a honey bee Together the bee and the ****** ***** make harmony The vibrant flower allowed to duplicate More beauty for all to see For all to feel The special honey bee procreate and makes Wax creating ambiance Such a clever bee A savont; such a worker Magical tyrant Buzzing madly yearning to create the sweetest honey A honey bee can make Its like you to me You're the combination Make migrations in me Spreading beauty from within To others to proceed And begin I feel it with you; Vibrant flower Honey bee Coming together Creating so much sweet honey in me It's a wonderful story to me You see The story of the flower and the honey bee
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A Man who believes In word of affirmation, To love and cherish a woman Entice with his natural charms To court a real woman,never Mistreat her with his immature Mistakes A Real Man,A nor womanizer Who impregnates bunch of girls To use his babies,as a trophy For the glory as of a stolen Diamond to his gang. A Lad who spread legs Of a Lady for dump victory To find gold. But,He who takes responsibilities When they occurs and never denies,is a man. Who share a burden of his brokenheart Angel and embrace, Is whom who wakes up early, Say a prayer and hustle to care For his family,and never backs down. Vanquish life with vasted hopes. A Man who knows Man's presence To a Woman's heart... ...He is The True Essence Of A Real Man
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Sep 11, 2015
Sep 11, 2015 at 6:55 AM UTC
The True Essence Of A Real Man
The Universe is our Kamasutra constellations, red tailed comets brilliant devas, divine horsemen prance through the galactic playground everywhere and in everything our eyes behold a starry courtship Romance impregnates the very air we breathe billowy breezes caress our bodies and the sun does not hesitate to shower us with burning kisses mysterious lady of the coven night cools the passions of the day with dreamy moonlight and soft melody Innocent, pristine we experience, explore and enjoy the sacred foreplay blooming in the garden of our chakras So vastly turned on feeling high expansive all inclusive How can we contain the bliss that courses through every particle and atom towards its ultimate collective consummation Lord Shiva and Goddess Parvati locked forever in the throes of Love “Spirit and Nature dancing together”
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Jan 1, 2015
Jan 1, 2015 at 6:01 PM UTC
Gift of the Gods
Social Climbing How many asks what is the way forward? The lack of thought impregnates our air. By thoughts and acts we pursue social achievements, Exhibiting selfishness, chaos and insecurity. We promote ourselves through groups and individuals, Paving the way to social fame and glory. All while our country rivers crest with blood, Peaked by the sacrifices of those socially conscious. Their protests to gain our freedoms unrecognized, By those of us tied up in the hunt for fame. Is it this the dream, we strive to gain? Shamed am I that we have not addressed their demise.
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Dec 16, 2015
Dec 16, 2015 at 1:51 PM UTC
Social Climbing
Grapefruit tree blooms lush Its proud fragrance dominates Stirs senses...in white... Redolence wakens..... Mind and nostrils, side by side Inspire and create... 'neath Sunday's twilight Branches mate....shadows connect, Entwine....entangle..... Curved silhouettes form An arabesque....of shapes And my own dance steps... Night impregnates mind, Scents, trees, starry nights..are turned To runes..........some, with tunes. ................................ (A cluster of haikus) Sally Copyright April 2, 2017 Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
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Apr 1, 2017
Apr 1, 2017 at 11:37 PM UTC
Four AM Haikus
Should be dead by now, These thoughts Shamed by the harsh light of the day. But even the night is no haven, For as I hide There in the necropolis of my broken dreams, Your specter beckons And impregnates me- verse of gloom given birth, ghostly beat resurrected. This bed should be the grave. But even sleep you own- Your name engraved On the epitaph. Reverie you claim- Your story is the dismal chanting on every corner. And rising in the morning Is like of a starved vampire. No satiety is found, For everyone walks now Under the daylight With cold hearts, Including you. Naughty imps on their eyes, Cruel devils on their heads, Cunning wizards on their lips. Their violence I feel, Harboring on silence. World is a big necropolis, In the guise of a glinting metropolis. I wish to mourn, Shed more tears, But redemption never comes To this warm heart Molded it self to be filled by you. For the way to the fire It sought but never had, Is bound down, down and down. Devouring it like a quicksand But never grants death nor life. If time comes That it turn to snowy pulse Like those of the dead of the day, Will your tears and the roses Finally be offered mine?
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Jul 20, 2010
Jul 20, 2010 at 1:57 AM UTC
Necropolis
Majorca, a playground for the young a sequinned island, sparkling with gold sandy beaches, limestone mountains and sheltered coves a mediterranean island rich with citrus plantations and culture centuries old. Where tradition seeps into cavities and impregnates the uninitiated leaving you saturated with enthusiasm and passion. A spirited place, a tranquil sanctuary where you want your ashes to face the wind and stay forever within it's shores. Majorca a wonderful place with memories drenched into my pores.
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Jun 16, 2015
Jun 16, 2015 at 3:16 PM UTC
Sparkling Island
I sit in the dark lane, a lane of thoughts, that is called. Peeping with noise, i tell them to stay.... stay because i want to unfold myself. The Self? Errr.. What is my self? That self which spills with confused thoughts? Blinkered, Blinded. Or The silent one, which smiles deep inside? I begin to walk, an awakened walk... in harmony with both the selves. want to walk till the  shores of... the supreme, that supreme which is the infinite, and that infinite is in little me! He is the unreachable, still i sometimes manage to reach. But soon he evades, impregnates me with those two. And i sit again . all exasperated in my lane, a lane of thoughts that is called...
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Jul 5, 2010
Jul 5, 2010 at 8:04 AM UTC
Mind Walk
Cornish spring drips and all growth becomes riddled with desire for warmth, ridden with need for having more. Freshly risen, green gets liquid-addiction, an invisible draw makes sward swoon for regular fixes of water. Crafty Spring knows plants crave doses so being fickle he drops trickles used to tease shoots upwards for fuel. Whoresome he opens cores formerly hidden, then the illicit physician lopes in and flippantly erases hopes. Bold, he impregnates the deep sleep of inactive nature, forcing in secret wet potions to unclothe closed petals. Then he may withhold his advances and allow winter's return to bring nights of freeze to show is own might. Old Spring hangs around to tickle ground's fancy yet Sol's hard passion he fears for at start of heat he disappears.
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Feb 21, 2017
Feb 21, 2017 at 6:52 AM UTC
Being Fickle.
Time is a trickster; the ticking clock: its vicious heart. It impregnates. It destroys. It heals. It unravels. It dons the skin of an imposter in the coldest stretch of night: a magician weaving fantasies that sear. Neutralize. Inspire. Though I wonder-- I worry-- are the days too long? Are the nights too dim and fleeting? Do I dance through each crescendo in a lurid, patchwork nightmare? Or are my dreams so full of pain, that soon, I'll shatter beneath them and finally wake up?
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Sep 24, 2020
Sep 24, 2020 at 8:01 PM UTC
Skinwalker
Your deceitful lies, caresses my mind and impregnates my heart, I'm now left with the aftermath of ******* emotions... -Ethiiochick
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Nov 1, 2015
Nov 1, 2015 at 7:24 PM UTC
Tasteful lies
How each verse Rings through the mind Impregnates the thought And runs through lines?
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Apr 8, 2014
Apr 8, 2014 at 2:42 PM UTC
How?
The stars twinkle in the beautiful sky tonight Four stand out To my eyes Show me beautiful sights The first star is The brightest in the sky In the deep and dark night Looks perfectly shaped Perfect Makes me feel that inside Some time we miss When the sky does not align with my eye This second is The most gorgeous star in the sky Looks can fly And they do through my eyes Once my eyes go inside The lack of depth It appears Dark at the heart Deceives does this beautiful shooting star This star Number three Illuminates me It does not always appear Flickers with light In the blackened sky When it does shine Its so bright It hurts my insides I bask in the light Makes me ache I miss this star some times The last star is unusually small in size Sparkles from afar Lights up my eye Slowly building trust Knowing its always there What I need to find is my sunshine The sun that shines consistently through the sky Finds its way through the darkest clouds Creating spotlight where ever she shines Enhancing colours Takes my breath away Impregnates Feelings Displaying different experiences Helps me to create Broadens my insides Helps me fight To see the light And beauty in all that surrounds How sweet she sounds I will wait until your found My beautiful sunshine
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Jun 2, 2016
Jun 2, 2016 at 6:47 AM UTC
Four stars
That One magnificence that sings and blows His flute amongst us with shooting stars in His hair and golden eyes like suns His breath flows through green reeds on the river banks and baby birds chirping exuberantly in their thatched nests it fills our lungs with song and impregnates our hearts with love indistinguishable when we kiss His shimmering feet We caress the starry lips of the Universe
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Jun 18, 2016
Jun 18, 2016 at 1:24 AM UTC
Star Breath
TWAK! Twak!    A knife embeds itself    in the space just by her left ear    as if the wood gulped it...sucked it    in its glint    vibrating still.    In her head she plans    dinner.    She stares at her husband    remembers how he had come    to court her ...twak!    Another knife flashes spitefully    narrowly missing her other ear    a little bubble of blood    like a stud earring blossoming on a wobbly earlobe.    'Ouch! ' she whispers    to herself guilty    at such an over reaction    oh how he had excited her       her head in a spin    saying he was in    show business    her world revolves    about him the next knife    impregnates itself in the space    between her legs    like a tuning fork   it hums       her excitement builds    a splinter of wood    nestles in her left inner thigh.    'Wow...nice! ' she becomes moist.    The shimmy of her spangles    as the lights catch her    a little gasp       she faces him boldly    afraid & un-afraid    upside down now her world all topsy-turvy    she still so proud of her husband's skill to tantalise her    his unerring accuracy    the pride of being (she the knife thrower's assistant) as well as wife. Twak!
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Dec 13, 2017
Dec 13, 2017 at 11:40 AM UTC
TWAK!