"inputting" poems
Welcome to me too.
Thanks for coming in high-altitude, if you're really into them.
There are new-tutorials, and I'm not going to need one.
Why not do the news? I love plain and simple.
Free-market sloping losses will do this;
because of bipartisan politics.
Luyendyk news is crowded by Audi's and by partisan politics;
I don't like my partisan politics.
Star tutorials are tutorial-soon.
This is a new tutorial for my into being given to the jury
in tutorial.
People present their uh dreams,
and a jury room is like love;
a little atmosphere me in a circle,
meaning we are (he is) related to the moon .
I'm the serving the Newburgh tutorial right now
around this one:
The new green play I'm into.
This one’s just a little on the Brumbies
cuz glass needs it to learn.
I am the circus mom pursuing your doom;
a mistaken rampant around jug-glass John,
inputting the bar’s shiny leading to the bottom-thanked step.
Number one is singing your doom on.
Be an unloaded nerd, like a dump truck dumping dirt into our hearts
while holding the whole lamar,
and perfecting the bar starting with p.
Put on the range
near the whole ecosystem in a in a bubble.
Second thing you gotta do is earn it,
you do this, but we plan to our dirt up to nine innings.
love things American
like me
in the new godliness.
99 dramas trapped under so now I'm a real utah zombie,
and lines,
Oct 25, 2014
Oct 25, 2014 at 2:07 PM UTC
While the stars burn from afar, like a million flames of dying candlelight. Even as men have eyes to see, in awe of the gargantuan miniscule movements of the chilling ice-blue sparks. We are all but equals in a warring reality. Time is but a thought, eternity is to be had to watch shattered matter transform, inputting chaos, with an output of calm. The unpolished old reality now exists in the form of precious gemstones, fools gold.
Dec 10, 2014
Dec 10, 2014 at 12:15 AM UTC
In poetry a source of comfort, relieving angst, a character unveiling over time, moving forward, I become more of myself, without a lover of soul intimate gestures, it's not an exchange of not enough love, poetry and I, inputting with one another.
Embellishing inner worlds, I search for what not is said in poetry by living life. Infinite paradox. A relationship with the matrix. A depth of reality and taking away myth. Daydreaming philosophy in solitude that doesn’t starve who breathes out embers for earth.
Still I think there is a love that poets rave about true and existing. To what I saw in experience, nothing of like in the dark of married people. For what substance they lack, is their souls involved. Despite the words they state in public. They converse opposite when eyes are turned away.
Smile for me now.
https://www.amazon.com.au/Killing-Philosophy-Reflection-Darcy-Prince-ebook/dp/B07F9QVCW4/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1532482922&sr=8-1&keywords=darcy+prince
Jul 27, 2018
Jul 27, 2018 at 7:15 PM UTC
They stand at their designations inputting the mindless dribble while their fires die out.
The words flow to letters.
The letters flow to lines.
The lines flow to numbers.
The numbers flow to nothing
The endless cycle repeats for the norm till their just drones of numbers and nothing.
Their nothingness becomes a count for change on paper and virtual.
This is the life of just another statistic.
Jul 4, 2019
Jul 4, 2019 at 4:31 AM UTC