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"insatiate" poems
I would be wandering in distant fields Where man, and bird, and beast, lives leisurely, And the old earth is kind, and ever yields Her goodly gifts to all her children free; Where life is fairer, lighter, less demanding, And boys and girls have time and space for play Before they come to years of understanding-- Somewhere I would be singing, far away. For life is greater than the thousand wars Men wage for it in their insatiate lust, And will remain like the eternal stars, When all that shines to-day is drift and dust But I am bound with you in your mean graves, O black men, simple slaves of ruthless slaves.
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In *******
Dans le fond des forêts votre image me suit. RACINE There is a panther stalks me down: One day I'll have my death of him; His greed has set the woods aflame, He prowls more lordly than the sun. Most soft, most suavely glides that step, Advancing always at my back; From gaunt hemlock, rooks croak havoc: The hunt is on, and sprung the trap. Flayed by thorns I trek the rocks, Haggard through the hot white noon. Along red network of his veins What fires run, what craving wakes? Insatiate, he ransacks the land Condemned by our ancestral fault, Crying: blood, let blood be spilt; Meat must glut his mouth's raw wound. Keen the rending teeth and sweet The singeing fury of his fur; His kisses parch, each paw's a briar, Doom consummates that appetite. In the wake of this fierce cat, Kindled like torches for his joy, Charred and ravened women lie, Become his starving body's bait. Now hills hatch menace, spawning shade; Midnight cloaks the sultry grove; The black marauder, hauled by love On fluent haunches, keeps my speed. Behind snarled thickets of my eyes Lurks the lithe one; in dreams' ambush Bright those claws that mar the flesh And hungry, hungry, those taut thighs. His ardor snares me, lights the trees, And I run flaring in my skin; What lull, what cool can lap me in When burns and brands that yellow gaze? I hurl my heart to halt his pace, To quench his thirst I squander blook; He eats, and still his need seeks food, Compels a total sacrifice. His voice waylays me, spells a trance, The gutted forest falls to ash; Appalled by secret want, I rush From such assault of radiance. Entering the tower of my fears, I shut my doors on that dark guilt, I bolt the door, each door I bolt. Blood quickens, gonging in my ears: The panther's tread is on the stairs, Coming up and up the stairs.
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Pursuit
Dans le fond des forêts votre image me suit. RACINE There is a panther stalks me down: One day I'll have my death of him; His greed has set the woods aflame, He prowls more lordly than the sun. Most soft, most suavely glides that step, Advancing always at my back; From gaunt hemlock, rooks croak havoc: The hunt is on, and sprung the trap. Flayed by thorns I trek the rocks, Haggard through the hot white noon. Along red network of his veins What fires run, what craving wakes? Insatiate, he ransacks the land Condemned by our ancestral fault, Crying: blood, let blood be spilt; Meat must glut his mouth's raw wound. Keen the rending teeth and sweet The singeing fury of his fur; His kisses parch, each paw's a briar, Doom consummates that appetite. In the wake of this fierce cat, Kindled like torches for his joy, Charred and ravened women lie, Become his starving body's bait. Now hills hatch menace, spawning shade; Midnight cloaks the sultry grove; The black marauder, hauled by love On fluent haunches, keeps my speed. Behind snarled thickets of my eyes Lurks the lithe one; in dreams' ambush Bright those claws that mar the flesh And hungry, hungry, those taut thighs. His ardor snares me, lights the trees, And I run flaring in my skin; What lull, what cool can lap me in When burns and brands that yellow gaze? I hurl my heart to halt his pace, To quench his thirst I squander blook; He eats, and still his need seeks food, Compels a total sacrifice. His voice waylays me, spells a trance, The gutted forest falls to ash; Appalled by secret want, I rush From such assault of radiance. Entering the tower of my fears, I shut my doors on that dark guilt, I bolt the door, each door I bolt. Blood quickens, gonging in my ears: The panther's tread is on the stairs, Coming up and up the stairs.
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52
billboard's calligraph -- past the haze of Manila infested by car sprawls and belching machines. magnanimous treatise of tarpaulins, people chin-up asking God with askance something like this "o god make this bearable like a mound of fresh fruits from ****** labour." maniacal sensurround: earth-shattering frequency of footsteps trampling the mouth of monolith shadows - the peak of this quake is our complete silence. rain's catharsis in effect sousing us in the blood of unreal light. this diastolic shrinkage jamming the beat of constricting vessels. the adrenaline surges within the dermis of this pretension. a collective of tired beings heeding the recherché of voice metamorphosing into form, a dagger-butterfly paring us skin to bone, cranial to visceral, soul to nothing - catapult of a trajectory spit plummeting in eased-up pace from Taft Avenue flyover to a subjugated wagon of scraps and empty wine bottles. today's paper reads: "Palace hits hiring of **** dancers" fancying to fall right in the spanked curved of this insatiate melodrama - something prayer could not save from this land's mutinous ignominy. we resume to fulfill our madness, hundreds of tack-headed people rolling down the streets of Makati, drenched with rain's trilling aftermath. squinting to look at no sun, only the grieving of skyscrape, thumbing down unidentified objects in the depth of loose pockets, desperate for home.
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Oct 2, 2015
Oct 2, 2015 at 12:39 AM UTC
Hazy Manila Headline
The Spirit Has Given Us Wounds so that the flies may feast on us The limit has been set by those who infest us with fallacy and hypocrisy. Those who pull the strings so that they remain kings as their subjects decay. Those who grab things which belong to all the African kings of today! “Keep them in the dark, let them not see the goodness of light”, they say. But I am the light of Africa and I will shine so bright to open up their eyes so that they may shine more than I shine Africa is not poor, Africa is being looted Africans are not poor, they are just being cheated. Bribe is costing our lives as our corrupt leaders misuse our resources People are dying as the leaders grow fat and untouchable. Transparency and good governance seems unachievable Discrepancies of unscrupulous activities surfaces whenever the media starts to deceive Chorus Our land and resources are enough to feed and clothes us all But the land mourns and the waters are bitter because our hearts are sore. Our silence is tolerance to injustice and violence They have violated our minds with their dead conscience. They have desecrated our rights with their dead ignorance We are all leaders lets dethrone these dealers They have annihilated those who could bring change because of their arrogance Chorus Our land and resources are enough to feed and clothes us all But the land mourns and the waters are bitter because our hearts are sore. Kufa nenyota makumbo arimumvura Honai Baba isu tatambura Kudya nhoko dzezvironda Honai Ishe tauyaura Siyahlupeka!!!! Huyai mutinunure Chorus Our land and resources are enough to feed and clothes us all But the land mourns and the waters are bitter because our hearts are sore. Distort the message Corrupt the masses Falsify the knowledge Blindfold the masses Broad day sacrilege Sacrifice those who speak out To satisfy the deplorable desire And insatiate the insatiable greed. Chorus Our land and resources are enough to feed and clothes us all But the land mourns and the waters are bitter because our hearts are sore. You Leaders we erected you are smart... Using our money to fund your reelection processes As you feed us with promises which are nothing but lies All the efforts your make are to meet the interests of your pockets All the votes you take are to increase the weights of your accounts You leaders we've elected you disgust. Chorus Our land and resources are enough to feed and clothes us all But the land mourns and the waters are bitter because our hearts are sore. What are we? A race in need because of those who lead? A curse on the face of the earth because of our creed? We are a unique and immortal breed. We are going to change our heads so that we succeed.
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May 17, 2017
May 17, 2017 at 6:11 AM UTC
The Spirit Has Given Us Wounds
The Spirit Has Given Us Wounds so that the flies may feast on us The limit has been set by those who infest us with fallacy and hypocrisy. Those who pull the strings so that they remain kings as their subjects decay. Those who grab things which belong to all the African kings of today! “Keep them in the dark, let them not see the goodness of light”, they say. But I am the light of Africa and I will shine so bright to open up their eyes so that they may shine more than I shine Africa is not poor, Africa is being looted Africans are not poor, they are just being cheated. Bribe is costing our lives as our corrupt leaders misuse our resources People are dying as the leaders grow fat and untouchable. Transparency and good governance seems unachievable Discrepancies of unscrupulous activities surfaces whenever the media starts to deceive Chorus Our land and resources are enough to feed and clothes us all But the land mourns and the waters are bitter because our hearts are sore. Our silence is tolerance to injustice and violence They have violated our minds with their dead conscience. They have desecrated our rights with their dead ignorance We are all leaders lets dethrone these dealers They have annihilated those who could bring change because of their arrogance Chorus Our land and resources are enough to feed and clothes us all But the land mourns and the waters are bitter because our hearts are sore. Kufa nenyota makumbo arimumvura Honai Baba isu tatambura Kudya nhoko dzezvironda Honai Ishe tauyaura Siyahlupeka!!!! Huyai mutinunure Chorus Our land and resources are enough to feed and clothes us all But the land mourns and the waters are bitter because our hearts are sore. Distort the message Corrupt the masses Falsify the knowledge Blindfold the masses Broad day sacrilege Sacrifice those who speak out To satisfy the deplorable desire And insatiate the insatiable greed. Chorus Our land and resources are enough to feed and clothes us all But the land mourns and the waters are bitter because our hearts are sore. You Leaders we erected you are smart... Using our money to fund your reelection processes As you feed us with promises which are nothing but lies All the efforts your make are to meet the interests of your pockets All the votes you take are to increase the weights of your accounts You leaders we've elected you disgust. Chorus Our land and resources are enough to feed and clothes us all But the land mourns and the waters are bitter because our hearts are sore. What are we? A race in need because of those who lead? A curse on the face of the earth because of our creed? We are a unique and immortal breed. We are going to change our heads so that we succeed.
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When the moon hovers hallucinated on the post canal breaking in bubbles of fish breath the white widow of the night revives her long dead tongue to lick the scales of your skin pulling you into her bed of nails making love with you the whole night leaving you bruised and insatiate when they find your shadow scouring the edge of the canal with her name on its lip.
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Feb 28, 2017
Feb 28, 2017 at 8:52 AM UTC
Widow of the Night
On Death’s domain intent I fix my eyes, Where human nature in vast ruin lies: With pensive mind I search the drear abode, Where the great conqu’ror has his spoils bestow’d; There there the offspring of six thousand years In endless numbers to my view appears: Whole kingdoms in his gloomy den are ****** And nations mix with their primeval dust: Insatiate still he gluts the ample tomb; His is the present, his the age to come. See here a brother, here a sister spread, And a sweet daughter mingled with the dead. But, Madam, let your grief be laid aside, And let the fountain of your tears be dry’d, In vain they flow to wet the dusty plain, Your sighs are wafted to the skies in vain, Your pains they witness, but they can no more, While Death reigns tyrant o’er this mortal shore. The glowing stars and silver queen of light At last must perish in the gloom of night: Resign thy friends to that Almighty hand, Which gave them life, and bow to his command; Thine Avis give without a murm’ring heart, Though half thy soul be fated to depart. To shining guards consign thine infant care To waft triumphant through the seas of air: Her soul enlarg’d to heav’nly pleasure springs, She feeds on truth and uncreated things. Methinks I hear her in the realms above, And leaning forward with a filial love, Invite you there to share immortal bliss Unknown, untasted in a state like this. With tow’ring hopes, and growing grace arise, And seek beatitude beyond the skies.
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To A Gentleman And Lady On The Death Of The Lady’s Brother And Sister, And A Child Of The Name Of Avis, Aged One Year
On Death’s domain intent I fix my eyes, Where human nature in vast ruin lies: With pensive mind I search the drear abode, Where the great conqu’ror has his spoils bestow’d; There there the offspring of six thousand years In endless numbers to my view appears: Whole kingdoms in his gloomy den are ****** And nations mix with their primeval dust: Insatiate still he gluts the ample tomb; His is the present, his the age to come. See here a brother, here a sister spread, And a sweet daughter mingled with the dead. But, Madam, let your grief be laid aside, And let the fountain of your tears be dry’d, In vain they flow to wet the dusty plain, Your sighs are wafted to the skies in vain, Your pains they witness, but they can no more, While Death reigns tyrant o’er this mortal shore. The glowing stars and silver queen of light At last must perish in the gloom of night: Resign thy friends to that Almighty hand, Which gave them life, and bow to his command; Thine Avis give without a murm’ring heart, Though half thy soul be fated to depart. To shining guards consign thine infant care To waft triumphant through the seas of air: Her soul enlarg’d to heav’nly pleasure springs, She feeds on truth and uncreated things. Methinks I hear her in the realms above, And leaning forward with a filial love, Invite you there to share immortal bliss Unknown, untasted in a state like this. With tow’ring hopes, and growing grace arise, And seek beatitude beyond the skies.
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Cool shades and dews are round my way, And silence of the early day; Mid the dark rocks that watch his bed, Glitters the mighty Hudson spread, Unrippled, save by drops that fall From shrubs that fringe his mountain wall; And o'er the clear still water swells The music of the Sabbath bells. All, save this little nook of land Circled with trees, on which I stand; All, save that line of hills which lie Suspended in the mimic sky-- Seems a blue void, above, below, Through which the white clouds come and go, And from the green world's farthest steep I gaze into the airy deep. Loveliest of lovely things are they, On earth, that soonest pass away. The rose that lives its little hour Is prized beyond the sculptured flower. Even love, long tried and cherished long, Becomes more tender and more strong, At thought of that insatiate grave From which its yearnings cannot save. River! in this still hour thou hast Too much of heaven on earth to last; Nor long may thy still waters lie, An image of the glorious sky. Thy fate and mine are not repose, And ere another evening close, Thou to thy tides shalt turn again, And I to seek the crowd of men.
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A Scene On The Banks Of The Hudson
I will not stand by while abuse happens six months of cyclical hell the push and pull of your desire insatiate this issue has never been singular confined to some imaginary private space in the public view of us all using your circumstances to justify the victimisation of another to the point of collapse the coloniser builds a fort because they're afraid of their own violent mirror-image projected into the landscape do you recognise yours?
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Jul 30, 2018
Jul 30, 2018 at 5:14 PM UTC
control
Boneless city How did I never see you waver in my youth? Ignorant of the tilt and the blows dealt on day-to-day walks Stepping into bruises, slamming into ****** grit Boneless street You bring my head all the closer to the ground All the further from the clouds From all your round about; circular, ocean mouth Shark-toothed belly ache You find yourself insatiate Quaint, the flesh of a dying city The concrete simmer, the metallic retreat The dust in lieu of blanket smog No fractures with all struts gone Only a once inflation, reduced flat A stranger finding himself within Wading liquid glass that shaves off chunks Of everything, but the lack
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Jul 15, 2013
Jul 15, 2013 at 6:15 AM UTC
boneless city
A veil of light and ashen grey invites me to peer in to stranger day fluttering and beckoning behind it what is happening? a smorgasboard of molten colour winks at me, summons me near I become swept up, in hurricane that rolls and waves across the plane of one reality in to another 'Tis here I feel my spirit brew imbued with bright, celestial hue deep in hinterlands of enchanting joy where I ravish these pleasures coy too overwhelmed to fight, resist the very light with which I'm kissed from famished eyes I am engorged my tender spirit enlarged on trajectory of bliss On horizon, magic gestates Leaves my spirit insatiate Adorned by sparks phantasms brood Lifting like hot air balloon my mood Between chasm of magic and reality Goes visions with conviviality Enchanting the mind with true force Summoned from natures magic purse Which sprinkles havoc on normality Forms of Beauty riddle my eye With their heavenly symmetry Godesseses of divinest shine Beam soul-deep, from theirs to mine Behind the veil of usual routine Lies awesome truth with golden sheen Nourishing the spirits belly To magical shores the spirit ferried Enamoured of most lucid of dreams
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Feb 7, 2017
Feb 7, 2017 at 5:07 AM UTC
Beyond The Veil
The insatiate black sky dripped on her shoulders like ink, and each drop resembled the weight of the world
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Dec 30, 2014
Dec 30, 2014 at 12:34 PM UTC
12.30.14. 11:34PM.
Take needle to flesh and pleas(e) In prayer to part like legs and seas, Put aside tears, bled into the lost and founded on pain And add insult to industry, smoke out the liar, ****** his brain. Make them sing, muse, tarnish what threatened to be And capitalize the bonds of rust belt, razor hungry. Two can play at this, tame eggs, wild geese, lame ducks, all, Spoiled dinners and children to be thrown to dust and fall. This is the interstice between you and sea, Your flag will not be raised in hell but for agony. Deign to dance of carrion while Corvus paints the sky Show the world, my devil son, that you know how to die. I am World Eater, Erysichthon, insatiate father-king, I have challenged god and man and cut the fate of string. I am World Eater, Erysichthon, insatiate father-king, I have challenged god and man and cut the fate of string.
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Sep 29, 2016
Sep 29, 2016 at 10:00 AM UTC
Warp(ath)
I danced with worlds, mid clouds of dreams When I was young and you were sage Imagination weaved in streams Painted paeans for freedom's age Cross jungles, waterfalls of joy We skipped with wanton, childish glee Dreaming, rocking to a fro Loving seismically Till the man shot me My mortal carapace decayed Became nature again Back in the soul's truest abade Where minds are one and zen And how did you go on and cope Me dear, gone from your den Offensive they rank rude intrude Upon the Peace we found my friend Because the man shot me I can't explain well but in time My energy gestate Became presence celestial All light and love, no weight The center of my heart lived on In a bonny babe anew Born in 1991 When Berlin's freedom grew No shots can stop me She a lover drift in dream A playmate of cherubs Who drift in streams upon a beam Aura arrests and grabs Year to year she grew afraid Doth yet perceive the cynic's trade And will for Love insatiate No shot stopped her living like me She grew a heart comely and plump Like the marrow Thoreau craved As through the wilds of life she tramps Not wont to behave Bears Love aloft, cherubic lamp Through her the passion rave Hearts for heroes; guns for knaves
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Jan 5, 2018
Jan 5, 2018 at 4:53 AM UTC
Dear Yoko
Bitterness's manifestation of toxicity Its torment is vague which is noxious We can't breath We **** each other Entrapped me ever since Can't escape from thee Locked up from within Racked from the pinions of a demonic dungeon Vast, dark, tormented, pitfall of malice Inevitable no matter how fast I flee From the dreadful, fierce and phantasmagoria forms Figments of my imagination Somehow real and tangible as bone and flesh Who haunt in the house of slumber Transmogrified me into an abhorrent madman Desperate for escape, one way or another Too often, my call for help are silent ones Unheard, unheeded My thoughts are baffled, bewildered Can't eject the sense of bitterness Negativity encapsulated thee Too late for escape and to flee These demons succumb onto my bitterness Toxicity is what they devour Tearing me flesh to flesh Insatiate 'till they consume my wholeness Lusting for their satisfaction Feeding their gluttony 'till I'm soulless Alas, they have destroyed every bit of me Siphoned the life out of me Now I am existent no more
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Aug 30, 2017
Aug 30, 2017 at 12:51 PM UTC
Hemlock
SEA IMAGES This rusty little boat, anchored on the far-away shallow bank, Neglected, but still bears marks of past bruises and secrets Of passion, known only to some daring lovers Long forgotten. Today the sky is still red with summer desire, The winds blow free and wild, careless, enticing. Crimson flowers, half-hidden from human eyes, Resplendent in glory, flushed with fire, Drunk with yearning, dream of a world beyond time Devoid of regrets, pains and sighs. This day seems so long, while the heat waves tear At the insatiate hearts of all, both young and old, Who share the common anguish, the same bond of longing For what could never be, that unfathomable- Beyond words, experience, touch, feeling- that magnificent unknown Born of first love. Is that what is inadequately Spoken of by the poets as ecstasy? Like the themes of an eternal symphony, the sea Holds the keys to the heart’s depth, Its longing, loneliness, sorrow and pain While the last song of this summer has come to an end, sadly, There will always be a boat somewhere with its story- Watched by the waves, the sky, the crimson flowers And love unfulfilled, soaked in silent misery. After listening to Schumann and Chopin’s piano concertos- night of 14th August 1999, Sydney
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Sep 23, 2015
Sep 23, 2015 at 7:45 PM UTC
SEA IMAGES
It’s true you are:- by God made you are A sterling star to shame a void Alight all worlds as wander far Beauty ne’er destroyed As poets sight thy soaring light Beget bars and sweet alms for thee Like Love so bright in eternal delight Hath all hearts churning seismically A light create to bless all souls And those by strife pursued Cloaking of thy light the mind appalls But in eternity all light renewed Peace in hearts thy spark create In life, in death, a spark insatiate
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May 1, 2018
May 1, 2018 at 6:42 PM UTC
Sonnet: You Are
We are emasculated by the media, aesthetics -But do we ever take the time to know others -People often forget that the act of appreciation - Is only really a couple of phrases - Care to be my friend? - Acquaint yourself and converse with me - Let me express myself - Let me be free, trade a smile or maybe more :) - Outer beauty will always be viewed - It will change as you age - Grow as you eat - Shape as you see fit - The more you love yourself, your actions will speak - With positivity, over negativity - What we see is often referred to as a figment of our imagination - In reality we see fit to procreate, our surroundings - Appreciate beauty for everything that it surrounds, - Do not let it insatiate you, - For you are its empowerer/empoweress - View everything, take in every aspect - The love, the hate, the uncontrolled emotions - Everything - Do not take any aspect for granted - A life is given - Live(s) are taken - Your life should mean not an instance - But a lifetime, nothing surrounds you - Because you are the actor that capsulates the settings - The writer that narrates... - ...Beauty
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Jun 6, 2019
Jun 6, 2019 at 11:17 AM UTC
Beauty
So easy to remember how hard to forget the past is an unforgiving monster with its trail of many a sorrow, blame and regret. But life is a state of mind an open road---you have the freedom of choice- they live well---those who understand life is a tale of both sorrows and joys. How insatiate is the human heart to endless temptations it does fall abundance is still deemed lacking it wants nothing that's less than all. How hard to let go the past how easy to attribute blame so few do know the state of their minds finding every reason to give life a bad name.
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Jan 3, 2016
Jan 3, 2016 at 8:52 PM UTC
LIFE IS A STATE OF MIND
Art there a passage to the wilderness, To go into the world, unfurled, my friend? We'll run with the sun, under purple skies. My feet are insatiate. To and fro they go, dreaming, rocking to and fro, With light, bright step upon Earth's pearl. All the world is a treasure. Betwixt which city will twin hearts cross. Up which raggedy tree, reliable as lungs, Under what soot bridge with portals to elsewhere, I wonder, mind asunder, in what dreamy daze you dwell, As we yield to fantasy, my love.
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Apr 20, 2017
Apr 20, 2017 at 6:45 PM UTC
Wanderlust
Unaware of these scars for they are beneath the skin. The air of radiance and joy; a facade, one that fools even I. Still, there's no escaping the night; the lonesome quiet, the heart's drumming, the mind racing, igniting a riot. No calm by the sea or by city light, by white sand or gray concrete. This visceral yearning will not cease.
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Nov 9, 2018
Nov 9, 2018 at 8:09 AM UTC
Insatiate
I would weep if you would move for me Tears falling in warm cascades To touch your face so tenderly Would make me happy and elate To put the spark back in your heart, Would be a privilege and a blessing, For lust of your joy I am insatiate, May it's light triumph over the distressing.
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May 10, 2017
May 10, 2017 at 3:09 PM UTC
A Message From The Angel John