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"inexpressive" poems
That morning i awoke. I felt the rising sun. A glimpse of true restoration, with kings crying, emperors imploring mercy, world living, earth within. The light of the rays throughout magnificent pieces of hollow stone. I'm happy. I'm happy. The sun it did shine. The sunrise, it was beautiful, sitting in between the vast open crests of the mountains. The sky's color orange. The mountains a deep pink. This view was a sensation of the universal language. And the best part had to be the sun's fiery, multicolored, rays! Where the glory of this moment, this sunrise, originated. What a bountiful moment. It was filled with glory and strength. The firefly lighting inescapable and somewhat inexpressive. Because of this, all insecurities melted away. There was something comforting about this rise. It was as if it was a message from God. It had the energy of a new day. No, not a new day. Not another day to wake up. Not ANOTHER PLAIN DAY! No, this was a "new day". The beginning of a new era. That's what this sunlight told me. Situations will now explode and dissolve. In a benevolent way. It said, Feel the warmth of the sun. Let it's warm welcoming waves of light surround and caress your being. Feel its care and courage. Connect and let its power become yours. Once i connected i no longer reflected. The time for reflection ended. And being pushed aside, the time or immortality began. The invincible irresistible, sensational, nature of the sun brought a new wave. The nine waves of the sun, They touched me on that sunrise. They touched my heart. Just as they mixed and breed with the unusually blue but now pink mountains. The loving amalgamation of sunrise and environment. It was truly a spectacle to behold. This was a true sunrise. The first true sunrise of my life. THE SUNRISE OF THE NEW DAY. MAY YOU SEE IT AS WELL!
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Sep 4, 2018
Sep 4, 2018 at 12:55 PM UTC
Sunrise of The New Day
That morning i awoke. I felt the rising sun. A glimpse of true restoration, with kings crying, emperors imploring mercy, world living, earth within. The light of the rays throughout magnificent pieces of hollow stone. I'm happy. I'm happy. The sun it did shine. The sunrise, it was beautiful, sitting in between the vast open crests of the mountains. The sky's color orange. The mountains a deep pink. This view was a sensation of the universal language. And the best part had to be the sun's fiery, multicolored, rays! Where the glory of this moment, this sunrise, originated. What a bountiful moment. It was filled with glory and strength. The firefly lighting inescapable and somewhat inexpressive. Because of this, all insecurities melted away. There was something comforting about this rise. It was as if it was a message from God. It had the energy of a new day. No, not a new day. Not another day to wake up. Not ANOTHER PLAIN DAY! No, this was a "new day". The beginning of a new era. That's what this sunlight told me. Situations will now explode and dissolve. In a benevolent way. It said, Feel the warmth of the sun. Let it's warm welcoming waves of light surround and caress your being. Feel its care and courage. Connect and let its power become yours. Once i connected i no longer reflected. The time for reflection ended. And being pushed aside, the time or immortality began. The invincible irresistible, sensational, nature of the sun brought a new wave. The nine waves of the sun, They touched me on that sunrise. They touched my heart. Just as they mixed and breed with the unusually blue but now pink mountains. The loving amalgamation of sunrise and environment. It was truly a spectacle to behold. This was a true sunrise. The first true sunrise of my life. THE SUNRISE OF THE NEW DAY. MAY YOU SEE IT AS WELL!
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"Sorry, Austin...not for us...Best with it." "Four Verses of Inexpressive Groaning, and 15 Ughs to be Sung in Beethoven's 9th. " Ughghghgh. Ughyughghg. Eighghghgugh. Myeeeghghg? Eeehghghg... Myegghghugh. Ghghghghg. Huhhghghg? Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Shrug- eh? Uhhhmmm... Eghghghghg.... Myughghghg... grughghghg. Gaaah...? Blughghg. Ugh. Ugh. Ugh. Ugh. Ugh. Ugh. Ugh. Ugh. Ugh. Ugh. Ugh. Ugh. Ugh. Ugh. Ugh.
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Jun 1, 2014
Jun 1, 2014 at 11:09 PM UTC
"Rejected Again."
lovely bones scattered on the floor, beautifully red and intersecting all over the door. lovely bones ran clean with no scrapes from the knife, the very knife that took their life. lovely bones, so beautiful, so pretty. more beautiful than their blood that tasted ever so sweet. lovely bones decorated the floor so beautifully and gave it the beauty of death, not caring that i took their owners breath. my beautiful bones, my lovely bones, smooth and heavy as beautiful stones. my lovely bones, i stroke your skulls, your blank inexpressive expression tells it all. i love your beautiful ribs and spine, knowing that they are now mine. but my favorite of all time is the arm and leg bones, i love that bone. its beautiful and long with a unique characteristic. its beauty is just so majestic! my beautiful lovely bones, i adore you! i laugh wickedly as i fondled you. my lovely bones, so beautiful, only getting you was a task i must fulfill. come to me, my fantasy as beautiful as dazzling stones, my angelic, lovely bones.
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May 19, 2012
May 19, 2012 at 10:48 PM UTC
Lovely Bones
Trees and the menace of night; Then a long, lonely, leaden mere Backed by a desolate fell, As by a spectral battlement; and then, Low-brooding, interpenetrating all, A vast, gray, listless, inexpressive sky, So beggared, so incredibly bereft Of starlight and the song of racing worlds, It might have bellied down upon the Void Where as in terror Light was beginning to be. Hist! In the trees fulfilled of night (Night and the wretchedness of the sky) Is it the hurry of the rain? Or the noise of a drive of the Dead, Streaming before the irresistible Will Through the strange dusk of this, the Debateable Land Between their place and ours? Like the forgetfulness Of the work-a-day world made visible, A mist falls from the melancholy sky. A messenger from some lost and loving soul, Hopeless, far wandered, dazed Here in the provinces of life, A great white moth fades miserably past. Thro' the trees in the strange dead night, Under the vast dead sky, Forgetting and forgot, a drift of Dead Sets to the mystic mere, the phantom fell, And the unimagined vastitudes beyond.
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1.4k
Trees And The Menace Of Night
He's gone - dead my memory redefined what feelings will survive who will remember? Formal, frozen, inexpressive faces, relatives and friends, people I've nor seen for years, shuffling funeral shoes, nervous, rehearsing things to say. Others never seen before. His networks still in tact, mine sadly declining. Perhaps I didn't know he who goes there. Pass friend.
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Jul 20, 2015
Jul 20, 2015 at 2:05 PM UTC
Who Goes There
The sweetness in your laugh Held all sorts of things Like dandelion mornings and afternoons And the way sunlight filters through those estuary clouds A hope of a hint of normality And I know I laugh like a harpy And at times I don't even smile I laugh with the irony of fluourescent lights Blinking so unnaturally in comparison Obsessed with the imitation Your laugh was full of light And lit your skin with that quiet sunset That slanted onto your back and shoulders Forgive me if I was silent If I was inexpressive and staring Forgive me my inability To step out of my shadows
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Jun 9, 2010
Jun 9, 2010 at 11:39 AM UTC
07.
I have said all that's to be said, And you have listened, And I have listened, To the end, gaining what? Our words are co-absurd, Inexpressive turds of information, Dung heap of nonsense, Good will with perfect enunciation, But crawling with itch, twitch and head-nod, In place of mutual understanding, A babelmist of manners and small talk, In which we are umbrella-less, Soggy with positivity, But it's for the best, I guess, Have a good day, till tomorrow then? Finally! Until, tomorrow, we say it all over again.
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Aug 26, 2020
Aug 26, 2020 at 1:56 PM UTC
Babelmist
He's gone - dead, memory redefined. What feelings will survive? Who will remember? Formal, frozen inexpressive faces - relatives and friends, people I've not seen for years. Shuffling funeral shoes, nervous, rehearsing things to say. Others never seen before, his networks seem intact, mine now declined. Perhaps I don't know he who goes there. Pass friend.
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Jul 23, 2016
Jul 23, 2016 at 1:47 PM UTC
Who Goes There
How can someone's smile Easily break somebody's heart? How innocent can it be? To not notice the pain of others Is she numb? A clueless? Perhaps inexpressive? Taking all in everything by herself Was her smile a facade? To hoard the sadness inside
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Sep 6, 2017
Sep 6, 2017 at 5:35 AM UTC
Troubled Heart
No expression, lights up their face, but their blank looks, darken them. They don't like the light, they live in shadows, where their blank looks, thrive. They come out, and no one knows what to think, they're scared, were scared. Faceless, that's what scares me, no eyes, no mouth, no nose, I can't read them. They're inexpressive, I don't know what to think, its like they are always covered, masking their lives. No expression, lights up their face, so to them, I must close my door, and never open it, cause they are, unknown.
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Nov 27, 2012
Nov 27, 2012 at 8:55 PM UTC
Unknown
Is it that I'm inexpressive ? Or is it that I'm inexperienced? Is it that I'm young? Or is it because I'm still immature? Is it that I'm stupid? Or are my writings worst? Is it just me? Or does it happen with others?
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Jan 6, 2017
Jan 6, 2017 at 9:53 AM UTC
Is it just me?
I never saw that golden bird far above, free and wild all I saw was dirt disorienting, inexpressive holding onto everything and anything that had lost its will to keep going and some kept going, against the grain against the shadows and the pages of their books some shouted out not their thoughts not their memories not their knowledge they screamed out in happy agony the world itself as it revealed its character in their minds on the other side of the wallowing horizon lies a quiet storm with gusts of wind that twist and spin the confines of your home unrelenting, the claws fall upon you and your mind can but forget its theories of how it all came to be so nothing remains but an unshattered window across which the colours whisper their dreams of how it all seems through a silent truthful beam
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Nov 5, 2018
Nov 5, 2018 at 3:50 AM UTC
Wind and Silence
My mind is filled with thoughts that aren’t thoughts but truth. My mind is filled with phrases that can’t be spoken but true My mind is locked under oppression of faith. Being lied to saying everything’s okay. My mind bends back under the weight of chagrin. And bounces back through the thick air of hope. My mind brings about ideas and opinion that is hidden to avoid pain My mind fears my hearts emotions as it tries to grow My mind is inexpressive till it closes all exit doors but one. Family... My mind is weak and filled with noise My mind is strong with nothing wrong. My mind your mind is all the same.
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Jan 31, 2019
Jan 31, 2019 at 12:13 AM UTC
My souls spirit