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"inflames" poems
How tenuous this grip we have, how slight our hold remains When all around  loud braggards boast that power now pertains, We see the banner headlines splashed across our daily rags And redneck demonstrations cleans the streets of Spics and **** When blood runs in the gutter as the battons rise and fall And whilst taking tea in style the filthy rich ignore it all. The blonde leader of our nation struts, postulates and brags While the rest of us skive off around the corner smoking **** Our  kids ingest confusion as they loiter on the street Unknowing  our delusions make illusions held, replete. How tenuous the grip we have, how slight our hold remains As our allies shower cold distrust convinced our fault inflames. What chance of clear redemption, what remedies revive When truth is lost to darkness can our honesty survive? Reputation cut to shards, confidences ****** That leaders of community no longer hold our trust When white is caste as black and then to green and then to grey And sanity refuses pontification one more day. How tenuous the grip we have, how slight our holds remain As twilight turns to darkness caste against a larks’ refrain. M. The White House HAMILTON, New Zealand 25 July 2018
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Jul 25, 2018
Jul 25, 2018 at 1:36 AM UTC
How Tenuous the Grip We Have?
Wonderful and beautiful Fills my heart with joy But alas, I have been called weird, For my love of the story sublime. I may not care about politics, unless Palpatine is involved, But chancellors aside, Star Wars is where my world revolves. I may not be courageous, like the awesome Han Solo, But, when it inflames my heart, unstoppable I am, just like my heroes. I cannot stress this enough, it may be bad as a passion, but Star Wars will never desert me! And that's just the start! Sure, I could spend my time making a million dollars, Or maybe even starting an empire, but I see no better way to spend my time, than to obsess on the thing that is mine! (just kidding! I don't own it. Is saying that a crime?) Anyway, to finish off my bad poem I must say one last thing, STAR WARS STAR WARS YOU ARE MY KING!
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Jun 27, 2016
Jun 27, 2016 at 7:06 PM UTC
My love of star wars
In your eye a shutter-spark that catches my gaze like a passing street lamp driving in the rain - it’s refraction drifting in and out until it’s a flash-bulb burned in my eye. A flash-bulb, lightning, sewing the skies and growing beauty in depths and molding itself to veins. Veins that burn into the friction of my sporactic chest - a catalyst. A catalyst that ignites my gaze and inflames my ribs, it beckons your breath - warm against my ear. A breathing, a comfort, like the softness of the light in winter; where the clouds draw like curtains and you hold onto me. A moment of hesitation in breath, And I continue to falter. You scare words from my ribs And I fear you. You to make me a convict of my indecision. Still – barred - paused in frequency.
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Mar 14, 2014
Mar 14, 2014 at 2:19 AM UTC
Paused in Frequency
As swarm of aggressive multi-coloured ants, Evening traffic charms the highway, Eerie tree shadows haunt the carriageway at three o'clock, Shadows will reconfigure and extend as time passes through the sundial of my trip, This burning night, on the way to smoky city, Inflames the melting tyres, smoking as if sticky molten caramel, Bathes highway with red hot haze, I jump as air conditioning, kicks in, Conning me my journey's nearly done, In the heat of the evening sun, Wakes me from my slumbers doze, Traffic slows through rush hour jams, Dances,weaving lane to lane, Through rush hour congestion's indigestion! By ladylivvi1 © 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
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Jul 12, 2013
Jul 12, 2013 at 6:05 PM UTC
Traffic!
The roses of Love glad the garden of life, Though nurtur’d ’mid weeds dropping pestilent dew, Till Time crops the leaves with unmerciful knife, Or prunes them for ever, in Love’s last adieu! In vain, with endearments, we soothe the sad heart, In vain do we vow for an age to be true; The chance of an hour may command us to part, Or Death disunite us, in Love’s last adieu! Still Hope, breathing peace, through the grief-swollen breast, Will whisper, “Our meeting we yet may renew:” With this dream of deceit, half our sorrow’s represt, Nor taste we the poison, of Love’s last adieu! Oh! mark you yon pair, in the sunshine of youth, Love twin’d round their childhood his flow’rs as they grew; They flourish awhile, in the season of truth, Till chill’d by the winter of Love’s last adieu! Sweet lady! why thus doth a tear steal its way, Down a cheek which outrivals thy ***** in hue? Yet why do I ask?—to distraction a prey, Thy reason has perish’d, with Love’s last adieu! Oh! who is yon Misanthrope, shunning mankind? From cities to caves of the forest he flew: There, raving, he howls his complaint to the wind; The mountains reverberate Love’s last adieu! Now Hate rules a heart which in Love’s easy chains, Once Passion’s tumultuous blandishments knew; Despair now inflames the dark tide of his veins, He ponders, in frenzy, on Love’s last adieu! How he envies the wretch, with a soul wrapt in steel! His pleasures are scarce, yet his troubles are few, Who laughs at the pang that he never can feel, And dreads not the anguish of Love’s last adieu! Youth flies, life decays, even hope is o’ercast; No more, with Love’s former devotion, we sue: He spreads his young wing, he retires with the blast; The shroud of affection is Love’s last adieu! In this life of probation, for rapture divine, Astrea declares that some penance is due; From him, who has worshipp’d at Love’s gentle shrine, The atonement is ample, in Love’s last adieu! Who kneels to the God, on his altar of light Must myrtle and cypress alternately strew: His myrtle, an emblem of purest delight, His cypress, the garland of Love’s last adieu!
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3.7k
Love’s Last Adieu
The roses of Love glad the garden of life, Though nurtur’d ’mid weeds dropping pestilent dew, Till Time crops the leaves with unmerciful knife, Or prunes them for ever, in Love’s last adieu! In vain, with endearments, we soothe the sad heart, In vain do we vow for an age to be true; The chance of an hour may command us to part, Or Death disunite us, in Love’s last adieu! Still Hope, breathing peace, through the grief-swollen breast, Will whisper, “Our meeting we yet may renew:” With this dream of deceit, half our sorrow’s represt, Nor taste we the poison, of Love’s last adieu! Oh! mark you yon pair, in the sunshine of youth, Love twin’d round their childhood his flow’rs as they grew; They flourish awhile, in the season of truth, Till chill’d by the winter of Love’s last adieu! Sweet lady! why thus doth a tear steal its way, Down a cheek which outrivals thy ***** in hue? Yet why do I ask?—to distraction a prey, Thy reason has perish’d, with Love’s last adieu! Oh! who is yon Misanthrope, shunning mankind? From cities to caves of the forest he flew: There, raving, he howls his complaint to the wind; The mountains reverberate Love’s last adieu! Now Hate rules a heart which in Love’s easy chains, Once Passion’s tumultuous blandishments knew; Despair now inflames the dark tide of his veins, He ponders, in frenzy, on Love’s last adieu! How he envies the wretch, with a soul wrapt in steel! His pleasures are scarce, yet his troubles are few, Who laughs at the pang that he never can feel, And dreads not the anguish of Love’s last adieu! Youth flies, life decays, even hope is o’ercast; No more, with Love’s former devotion, we sue: He spreads his young wing, he retires with the blast; The shroud of affection is Love’s last adieu! In this life of probation, for rapture divine, Astrea declares that some penance is due; From him, who has worshipp’d at Love’s gentle shrine, The atonement is ample, in Love’s last adieu! Who kneels to the God, on his altar of light Must myrtle and cypress alternately strew: His myrtle, an emblem of purest delight, His cypress, the garland of Love’s last adieu!
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44
Deep beneath the earth a companion flows as liquid into his soul, filling every curve, slip and crack. 86 fathoms below, a man is filled and unchained from his solitude creating a place for the mind to swim in one infinite breath. Swimming to the surface Thunder roars, lightning strikes: releasing him from beneath. He climbs out. There she stands in front, electrified. From head to toe, she inflames him, illuminating the night sky. The man approaches, thwarted by his ambition and left into stasis, as he watches her. Frozen, her eyes lock onto his. Enduring, he learns her true feeling.
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Sep 6, 2016
Sep 6, 2016 at 9:13 PM UTC
The Feeling
Okay The Vibe To Write... Is Now A Part of My Life... It’s Just A BEAUTIFUL Thing... !!! When I Start To Think... And Start Writing Lyrics... That QUICKLY Sink... Into Papers Where Ink... ... Display Wordplay... That Comes From My Brain... It’s A Vibe That Invites... ..... REALITY Lines..... RATHER Than THOSE... Where Lines of WHITE... Create Mental DOPES... Who Embrace That Coc’... !!! Or Yes... ******* That They’re QUICK To CLAIM... Helps To Keep Them STRAIGHT... ?!? The Vibe When I Write... INFLAMES MY BRAIN... !!! With Things To Say... About The World Today... From GREATS Like USAIN... !!! To Things LESS HUMANE... That Are NOT So Great... !!! You Know What I’m Saying... ? Or..... DO YOU..... ?!? Cos’ The Vibe When I Write... Is... NOT For Fools... !!! Who DON’T Use Their Brain Tool... So..... Is That YOU... ?!? One Who’s Confused... When It Comes To What’s TRUE... Cos’ The Vibe When I Write... REJECTS Those In DENIAL... It’s A Style That Profiles... A Great Deal MORE... Than... Peoples’ Green Miles... !!! It Relates To Flicks... That EXPOSE How We Live... But Also Deals... In Things MORE REAL... !!! Than Things That Are Filmed... On... 8 Millimetre Reels... !!! Because Words I Write... Do Not Promote Lies... !!! Or... FALLACIES... The Vibe When I Write... Is..... REALITY........ So ISN'T Written To Deceive... Or Make People... ANGRY... !!! ... It Is What It IS.... So... If The Cap Fits... You’d Better Deal With It... !!! You See The Vibe When I Write... ISN'T MOULDED To PLEASE... Because THAT ISN’T Poetry To Me... !!! It’s About Being REAL... And Relating What You See... In Ways That Display... TRUTH And HONESTY... !!! And Reflections On Life... All It’s Lows And HIGHS... !!!! And Those Last Lines... Are The Things That DEFINE... Why... Whether Day Or Night... I Continually Find That My Mind’s Eye... QUICKLY Provides A Mind Like Mine... With... ... “ The Vibe To Write “...
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Sep 18, 2020
Sep 18, 2020 at 11:44 PM UTC
“The Vibe To Write” ... A Poem written by Big Virge 24/6/2020
Okay The Vibe To Write... Is Now A Part of My Life... It’s Just A BEAUTIFUL Thing... !!! When I Start To Think... And Start Writing Lyrics... That QUICKLY Sink... Into Papers Where Ink... ... Display Wordplay... That Comes From My Brain... It’s A Vibe That Invites... ..... REALITY Lines..... RATHER Than THOSE... Where Lines of WHITE... Create Mental DOPES... Who Embrace That Coc’... !!! Or Yes... ******* That They’re QUICK To CLAIM... Helps To Keep Them STRAIGHT... ?!? The Vibe When I Write... INFLAMES MY BRAIN... !!! With Things To Say... About The World Today... From GREATS Like USAIN... !!! To Things LESS HUMANE... That Are NOT So Great... !!! You Know What I’m Saying... ? Or..... DO YOU..... ?!? Cos’ The Vibe When I Write... Is... NOT For Fools... !!! Who DON’T Use Their Brain Tool... So..... Is That YOU... ?!? One Who’s Confused... When It Comes To What’s TRUE... Cos’ The Vibe When I Write... REJECTS Those In DENIAL... It’s A Style That Profiles... A Great Deal MORE... Than... Peoples’ Green Miles... !!! It Relates To Flicks... That EXPOSE How We Live... But Also Deals... In Things MORE REAL... !!! Than Things That Are Filmed... On... 8 Millimetre Reels... !!! Because Words I Write... Do Not Promote Lies... !!! Or... FALLACIES... The Vibe When I Write... Is..... REALITY........ So ISN'T Written To Deceive... Or Make People... ANGRY... !!! ... It Is What It IS.... So... If The Cap Fits... You’d Better Deal With It... !!! You See The Vibe When I Write... ISN'T MOULDED To PLEASE... Because THAT ISN’T Poetry To Me... !!! It’s About Being REAL... And Relating What You See... In Ways That Display... TRUTH And HONESTY... !!! And Reflections On Life... All It’s Lows And HIGHS... !!!! And Those Last Lines... Are The Things That DEFINE... Why... Whether Day Or Night... I Continually Find That My Mind’s Eye... QUICKLY Provides A Mind Like Mine... With... ... “ The Vibe To Write “...
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70
It’s something I think about often, Do we fully understand the fragility of this life we possess? And suddenly a loved one is taken …it inflames you to think. Every consciousness is a precious and fragile gift. These lives of ours are fleeting, gone in a minute. When you suddenly understand this, everything fades into the background. Pushing 70 now… I choose to soar out of bed joyfully rejoicing each morning, That life has granted me another day above the dirt. Life is strong and weak…it’s a paradox. Keep your mind strong my friends, don’t hide behind your fears. This life of yours is an amazing gift….live it with a smile!
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Sep 21, 2018
Sep 21, 2018 at 3:38 PM UTC
Fragile Life
~ Underneath a crushing moonlit Roses are dancing in a glow garden Cram of comeliness whispering through my pensive Applaud an agitating mind of dragging love That submerging under a poetic passion A wild **** of beauty wishing to crave a romance Stressing on mind that makes Bubbles of emotions simultaneously, Touching and filling the empty dreams That essence of heaven creating the melody of divine music Passing through the poet's nose and nails Deep ache  popping at the heart and stone There render of love conceiving to catch a **** of heaven A tangible gaiety that creates so surprising illusion The glimmer chords becoming to splash The utmost inflames growing to outburst, Bursts into the fire of gaiety-- Psyche pouring a fathomless passion till the twilight Where there I am dancing alone with my shadow, Ah! my Love-- Oh! my Love ---- What a Crushing Moonlit!!   ~ @ Musfiq us shaleheen
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Nov 17, 2014
Nov 17, 2014 at 4:23 PM UTC
Crushing Moonlit
Love melts the heart and turns it into chocolate butterflies that dwell in the stomach. Love fries the brain and turns it into a smooth stone stuck in the throat. Love inflames the testicles and turns them into furtive little mice excited for escape. Love makes you feel deep like the oceans.
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May 15, 2014
May 15, 2014 at 9:22 AM UTC
Sonnet II
Glitterati Gangsters gaze with commanding stares and broken plates glass blown and open gates There she sits eyes all holding all knowing synchronicities shatter the scene Sparkling each blink initiates a flood of flaming diamonds that lash out like hot irons Eyes like this entice and take Each blink unlocks a new mystery as she grinds resistance in her teeth Igniting my lust Sparkling each blink creates a dawning sun Her gaze inflames ten thousand ways She wields sparkle like madmen spray sarin With sparkling abandon
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Jun 19, 2012
Jun 19, 2012 at 8:11 AM UTC
Sparkling Abandon
When I hold you in my arms what do I feel? Something I cannot express with words. It is tenderness that warms my heart. When I’m injured, your warm phrases heal Every wound that tortures me and hurts, Every pain that tears my chest apart. It is happiness that I do not know how Makes me fly up high and touch the sky, Makes me smile when I wake up at dawn. Everything around gets bright somehow, And I’m sure this feeling will not die. What’s inside my heart cannot be gone. It is peace that everybody needs, Even those who like to live at strife, Those who very often draw a sword. And you show me with your words and deeds That you wholeheartedly want your life And my life to be in full accord. It is passion that inflames my flesh, And sometimes its fire is so strong That its tongues can even scorch my bones. Such a heat is able to enmesh All my heart and body for so long, That by touching I can melt the stones. It is love, a gift sent from a star. And this feeling is so great and pure, It enslaves our souls and makes them free. And in love with me you also are, That is why I am completely sure That together we are meant to be.
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Feb 26, 2020
Feb 26, 2020 at 3:17 PM UTC
When I hold you in my arms
His words crash around us, his miserable dark dampening everyone’s light. Your blue eyes roll high, then low, letting his hanger catch on your shoulders. I protest, claim love and want hope, but he’s well prepared; bible, violence, and stereotype in hand. At first, he locked his anger up tight, disguised the resentment, fought the archaic nature of his values, the great expanse of his hatred, hidden. He kept it in, fought it, failed to understand it. Finally, internal battle lost, he started leaking. Any hope for happiness killed by a diet of frozen pizza, polish sausage, and spaghetti westerns. He respects men who don’t respect women, loathes anyone who dares to think or feel more than necessary. His eyes shift, and a creeping moustache has begun above his upper lip, framing a mouth spewing misunderstanding. You say: He makes everyone miserable. He says: Its all the cigarettes and alchohol they’ve been using. You shake your head, knowing an argument only spreads the contagion and inflames the rash. I forget, ask him how he knows so much about things he’s never done. “You don’t have to try it to know,” He replies, the creeping moustache more and more evident. I roll my eyes, lay back and listen as he preaches theories about women he’s never known, never had. How many times can he fail to realize he’s no better than anyone else. He preaches God and Christianity, but hates more than anyone, has no hope, or faith, or love, and lacks any shadow of compassion. He’s filled with violence and anger, yet claims to follow a God of love. He’s not tough, or hardened, or experienced, he’s afraid. Afraid to love, to lose, to understand, to hope, to accept, because it means a change. It means growing up, throwing out comic books, drawing mor than Batman, finding friends who are real, feeling the pain, understanding the gravity, and embracing it all.
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Jul 27, 2010
Jul 27, 2010 at 3:52 PM UTC
Preaching
His words crash around us, his miserable dark dampening everyone’s light. Your blue eyes roll high, then low, letting his hanger catch on your shoulders. I protest, claim love and want hope, but he’s well prepared; bible, violence, and stereotype in hand. At first, he locked his anger up tight, disguised the resentment, fought the archaic nature of his values, the great expanse of his hatred, hidden. He kept it in, fought it, failed to understand it. Finally, internal battle lost, he started leaking. Any hope for happiness killed by a diet of frozen pizza, polish sausage, and spaghetti westerns. He respects men who don’t respect women, loathes anyone who dares to think or feel more than necessary. His eyes shift, and a creeping moustache has begun above his upper lip, framing a mouth spewing misunderstanding. You say: He makes everyone miserable. He says: Its all the cigarettes and alchohol they’ve been using. You shake your head, knowing an argument only spreads the contagion and inflames the rash. I forget, ask him how he knows so much about things he’s never done. “You don’t have to try it to know,” He replies, the creeping moustache more and more evident. I roll my eyes, lay back and listen as he preaches theories about women he’s never known, never had. How many times can he fail to realize he’s no better than anyone else. He preaches God and Christianity, but hates more than anyone, has no hope, or faith, or love, and lacks any shadow of compassion. He’s filled with violence and anger, yet claims to follow a God of love. He’s not tough, or hardened, or experienced, he’s afraid. Afraid to love, to lose, to understand, to hope, to accept, because it means a change. It means growing up, throwing out comic books, drawing mor than Batman, finding friends who are real, feeling the pain, understanding the gravity, and embracing it all.
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5
You are the soul of my self, life and breath, endless beginning and duration of my thoughts, emotions and will, source of matter creating memory of the soul, noon and thymos residing in my chest, heavens in which the afterlife starts, psyche appearing in my dreams, wind and air of my inner cosmos, lightest, spherical atoms composing my soul, synthesis of all my sensations. Your words of adoriation are ever living fire. Flesh of my soul have been irrevocably affected by your spiritual intelligence and wisdom of your blood age generating thoughts. Effluence of your loving spirit inflames circumpolar stars. Motion in the sky is just reflection of God's destiny for us. Love was never abstract for Cassiopeia the Queen and all rising stars like our moon and sun. Love, innefable realm, mainstay of heart and mind, sun in the center of human microcosm, eyes, ears, tounge, hands and feet of God, inherent nature of breath during the day and night, one and only consciousness eluding death and time, axiomatic language of infinite Universe intimately connected to the philosophy of the core of all. You are North Star on celestical sphere of my notions showing me angelic love of woman with power of all stars of northern heavens.
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Jul 21, 2015
Jul 21, 2015 at 8:34 PM UTC
You are North Star
what is this unholy distress that even words seem unable to soothe? instead it inflames them; poisons them - turns my ideas into a malicious brood that commands every ounce of my attention today i would if i could pluck out this bitter vine that encircles me sinuously growing within me as if born from a mystery seed. unhindered it occupies every crevice in my brain finding its way into every sense, every act every thought. but then I think a complete life cannot be all sweet. - Vijayalakshmi Harish 30.01.2013 Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
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Jan 30, 2013
Jan 30, 2013 at 4:50 AM UTC
troubled waters
I need to speak my mind more often. I need to speak it truthfully, Pent up it fumes and poisons me. Turns my tongue to ash. Today I've noticed I didn't recognize myself. Fires have warped my features, Though unchanged my reflection yields new connotation. Poets once unheard now rip tears from my eyes. Music plays on repeat for hours, Immersing me in a blanket of deceit. I hide myself behind my mask of notes, Submerging myself in an unbreakable bubble, But its protective husk suppresses the peril within. The truth is I'm suffocating. My open wounds pus hate, Scabbing over in deceit that only cracks with more hate, Unexplainable angst inflames a desire to break out, To speak my mind truthfully.
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Nov 30, 2013
Nov 30, 2013 at 5:16 PM UTC
Fumes and Poison.
You light me up, Like fire. I burn under your gaze, The world inflames around me. You glow, So bright, You're a luminous light. As if destined to irradiate my life. To shine light upon My darkest secrets, Proving there is a way out of them. Yet you bring out the beast in me. You make my lungs suffocate. I don't want you, But without your touch, My body starves for your presence. I've lost my grip, On all the sense in me. Now I just want To follow my heart. Even though it screams For the wrong path. How can someone so wrong Be so right? We're total opposites Yet we relate, We understand each other. I don't think anyone Has ever done that before. You should be the one Who keeps me firm on my feet. Instead, you're the reason, I keep falling. Hard. Somehow, you're what gives me Tranquillity. My happiness Is fluorescent Within your presence. Your simple touch, Illuminates my body, Bringing fireworks That were absent over the course of my life. Regardless of what I say, Stay with me forever, You bring exhilaration to my life. You're my state of mind. I’ll cry you a river, Weigh my heart, Count every ounce of feeling I have for you, Just to prove I am hopelessly in love with you. You're the magic to my Wonderland. No, you are my Wonderland.
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Mar 25, 2015
Mar 25, 2015 at 3:20 PM UTC
Magic
behind the boathouse in august, he moves to her side. she pulls away from the boy with the violet eyes. in his eyes, tinged in red, like the sun that inflames above, burning the land and sea, scorching the grass and her skin. then too, an intense blue so wide and empty, it rivals the deepest sky that seeks to swallow the sun within these colors, a rush of purple springs forth. as it surges, he leans forward, to take the girl with his violet eyes.
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Jun 19, 2010
Jun 19, 2010 at 9:41 AM UTC
the boy with violet eyes
It would be much too dangerous to talk about Or remember at all That night A piercing scream from behind A clatter of fallen crockery on the floor Crimson fills the apron she wore I do not yet think to ask how or why My heart beats a silent cry I kneel beside to feel her warmth All I feel are empty eyes slice into my soul My eyes look over the pool of red Gathered by the drops her body shed But for the blood, she can be lost in dreams I think, as I imagine her pale in peace Grabbing a mop I cleanse her of the damaging dye Her body now remains uncoloured, untainted Of that which still inflames her quintessence She's been marked, I realise In an irreparable scarlet All action, all words- scattered on the tiles Lying broken and futile
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Apr 19, 2014
Apr 19, 2014 at 12:51 PM UTC
Marked
they're all just tired of her twisted games her silly need to be wanted and desire for destruction that leads them all into hell's fire and inflames their souls their hearts are in fractions over a crazy girl who doesn't even care or even know what she is doing she is too busy getting high breathing in life and feeling unstoppable or sometimes unapproachable sometimes she wants to die she is tired too of her broken mind and its broken thoughts which drive her to actions so irrational that hurt those she loves those around her who tire of being there to care when she always falls every week or every day she becomes a crisis and breaks into shards only held together with her madness by starving and purging by cutting and crying she remains alive in one piece despite her sadness but those around her are now exhausted by her drama not able to take another day they love her but they must say goodbye before she burns them out like her own eyes her own soul is dead now she is alone with her disgust for herself and her own corpse maggot-ridden and sad she is left to mourn those she swore she'd never miss she said she didn't need anyone or their condescenscion and help but now alone she doesn't want to be like this © Tara India.
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Dec 12, 2013
Dec 12, 2013 at 11:09 PM UTC
the others
The Meteor Came Into The Space Sought By Some Struck Blew Up ****** The Whole System Right Up ****** The Whole Into The Core Of The Planet It Truely Explored In An Instant Life And The Whole Existence Extinct, Delete Fallen To The Meteor Being Being More Than Just Flaming Malphite Or Space Rock Blowin Up, Up Inflames Charred Brains In A Daze What The **** Just Happened Oh, Be Truely Amazed. Trails Aflame Dames Turned Into Dust As Well As The Dams Within A Damp Pocket Of Air Formed By H2o Are What Is Left Into A Gas Like The Soul Was Struck Combined And Tucked Till Nature Erupts Again, Again Influx Blown Up By The Meteors Rush. I I I I I I I I @ _________________________________________________
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Dec 20, 2015
Dec 20, 2015 at 1:11 PM UTC
The Meteor
As I tiptoe past her door In that room, in that bed My darling sleeps. The thought of her touch, Her kiss, inflames my body Like the taste of Spanish wine. I open the forbidden door, The hot musky aroma of a woman Fills my senses and mind. I look at her, She is stretching her body Like a lioness on the plain. My breath catches, she sight, Every movement she makes Is poetry in motion. The light from a lamp Sparkles from her hair, A river cascading around her face. The movement of her hips Like a moth to a flame, Draws me lustfully towards her.
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Oct 15, 2013
Oct 15, 2013 at 11:47 AM UTC
The Woman 2009
*oh my darling i eat your belly i love it so it taste like jelly you **** my **** it feels so good i eat your *** like i should your toes are sweet i kiss you and cry im going to **** you and watch you die open up i make a cut you smile big say im a **** i burn your ******* oh daddy please that hurty good what a tease wants the knife in her tummy i stick it in hard its not funny i cut her mouth with a razor blade she loves my **** says got it made burn me beat me all night long **** me dead daddy ill sing a song i love your **** and die to be dead break me crush me like you said oh there goes my rib cage broken to bits more drugs please and chew off my **** do you like girl toes aren't they pretty cut them off please oh its a pity oh not to worry soon ill be dead with that stare laying in bed oh i bleed pretty you cut off my toes hurt my face please brake my nose hit me hard in the head rattle my brains give me a med now **** me **** me ow its good you promised fire burn me like wood light me up i want to dance to sway like Kali watch me prance oh i samba shake my *** love you so i roll in glass **** me **** me so very soon i want to burn like a fiery moon your **** is god i cant get enough **** me daddy show me your stuff oh you  grin bleeding and broken says it was fun please make me smokin its that time my love heres the fluid put the lighter to you she inflames like a druid she screams she howls she burns in hell *** shes beginning to smell i jump on your body cause it seems insane you push me off and scream i love the pain and you go oooww aaahh ooow mmmm burn burn burn im embers now honey cooked to a turn i suffered so much oh i scowled and cried did you love it baby did you like that i died i did it for you to feel your sweet love so you'd adore me forever and now im above i cant come back got no where to land remember me always my body is sand no baby no baby your face is a mess i **** your ashes and love you no less there you lie a hideous beauty i eat your powder your still a cu-tie*
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Jul 1, 2016
Jul 1, 2016 at 12:05 PM UTC
BURNING GIRL ..explicit dark ****** adult
*oh my darling i eat your belly i love it so it taste like jelly you **** my **** it feels so good i eat your *** like i should your toes are sweet i kiss you and cry im going to **** you and watch you die open up i make a cut you smile big say im a **** i burn your ******* oh daddy please that hurty good what a tease wants the knife in her tummy i stick it in hard its not funny i cut her mouth with a razor blade she loves my **** says got it made burn me beat me all night long **** me dead daddy ill sing a song i love your **** and die to be dead break me crush me like you said oh there goes my rib cage broken to bits more drugs please and chew off my **** do you like girl toes aren't they pretty cut them off please oh its a pity oh not to worry soon ill be dead with that stare laying in bed oh i bleed pretty you cut off my toes hurt my face please brake my nose hit me hard in the head rattle my brains give me a med now **** me **** me ow its good you promised fire burn me like wood light me up i want to dance to sway like Kali watch me prance oh i samba shake my *** love you so i roll in glass **** me **** me so very soon i want to burn like a fiery moon your **** is god i cant get enough **** me daddy show me your stuff oh you  grin bleeding and broken says it was fun please make me smokin its that time my love heres the fluid put the lighter to you she inflames like a druid she screams she howls she burns in hell *** shes beginning to smell i jump on your body cause it seems insane you push me off and scream i love the pain and you go oooww aaahh ooow mmmm burn burn burn im embers now honey cooked to a turn i suffered so much oh i scowled and cried did you love it baby did you like that i died i did it for you to feel your sweet love so you'd adore me forever and now im above i cant come back got no where to land remember me always my body is sand no baby no baby your face is a mess i **** your ashes and love you no less there you lie a hideous beauty i eat your powder your still a cu-tie*
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*i hate the smell of the alcohol because it inflames my throat as it passes through my lungs and run out of breath i hate the smell of your scent because it aches my head as memories come back and lose control i hate the smell of the cigarette you used to drag off when you were nervous distressed and upset i am that lungs you promised to keep but now why are you impulsively killing me?*
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May 24, 2016
May 24, 2016 at 2:17 AM UTC
promise to keep